#shouldn’t have ignored those butterflies

[evansbby]

𝐝𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐲’𝐬 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥✨🎀

Pairing: quarterback!Ari Levinson x naive!Reader

Summary: You have to do what daddy says, no matter how depraved it may be.

Warnings: smutt, dd/lg vibes, daddy kink, phone sex, riding of stuffed animals, dirty talk, Ari being depraved, Ari being a cocky asshole, innocence kink.

“But Ari, I’ve never sent nudes before.”

You bite your lip, moving your phone from one ear to the other. It was 2am, and you’re usually never awake this late. But you’d been working on a paper that was due tomorrow morning, and then Ari had called you.

Which was crazy. You didn’t even know Ari had your number. He was a senior and you were only a freshman and it was insane that he wanted to talk to you! You’d only ever met him once at a party last week, where he’d flirted with you sporadically throughout the night. You didn’t think much of it at the time, since he’d been flirting with a bunch of other girls too.

“Just lift your shirt up and send me a picture, sweetheart.” Ari insists, sounding smug on the other end of the line. “Maybe play with your tits a bit? Fuck, you have such nice tits.”

“Y-You think so?”

“Yeah, baby. I can’t stop staring at them whenever I see you in person.”

“Oh. Thanks!” You know you shouldn’t be happy with such a shallow compliment, but the fact that he’s interested in you is giving you butterflies. He was older than you, and he was the captain of the football team and the most popular guy on campus. You were, of course, none of those things.

“Well? Don’t keep me waiting.” There’s a slight edge to his tone.

You inhale deeply, opening your camera and lifting your top up. You’re not wearing a bra and your nipples are already hard from Ari’s smooth-talking and his gravelly voice. You snap a quick picture before sending it to him.

A pause.

“Fuck, you are so hot.”

“Thank you!” You glow at the praise. But then your eye catches the clock on your nightstand, “ooh, Ari, it’s getting late! I need to sleep now.”

“No.” Ari commands. “Let’s talk on FaceTime.”

“But I’m only in my PJs!” (They were babyish pyjamas too, nothing sexy at all.)

He ignores you, cutting the call and then calling you again through FaceTime. You accept it, gasping because he was shirtless on his bed. You’d never seen him shirtless before! His chest and torso were so muscular and hairy—but it made him look so manly that you couldn’t help but feel sparks run down your spine.

“Cute PJs.” He snorts.

“I’m sorry I don’t have anything sexier.”

“Don’t worry, baby. But maybe you should just take your top off completely, hm?”

“Oh, uh… I don’t know about that, Ari.”

“I’m not wearing a shirt, am I? So it’s only fair if you don’t wear one either.” He gives you a charming smile and you feel your insides turn to goo. Oh, you had the biggest crush on him! You can already feel every cell in your body itching to do exactly what he’s asked you to.

You shrug your top off, trying only to focus on Ari and how his eyes widen, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows. He licks his lips and runs a hand through his unruly brown hair. His other hand is out of frame, and you can’t see what he’s doing with it.

“Fuck, you’re so goddamn sexy, baby, showing off your hot, tight little body to me, huh?”

“I—I…uh… y-yeah, I guess—”

“Move up and down for me a bit, I wanna see your tits bounce. Mm, just like that, sweetie. Fuck, you love listening to me, don’t you?”

You watch in awe as he spits down into the palm of his hand, and now you can guess what his hand is doing and it makes your eyes widen but your core pulses with lust too.

“Look how hard your nipples are, baby. Touch ‘em for me. Play with them like a little slut, like how all the pornstars and slutty cam-girls do it. Like you’re being paid to do it, fuck! Goddamn, you’re so hot.”

He pans his camera downwards for a split second, and you gasp when you see his huge cock in his hand. He’s pumping it steadily, and it looks so big and fat and red and—

“B-But Ari, I’ve never watched porn before so I don’t know how a pornstar does it.” You blurt out.

A pause.

“Mm, you’re a real good girl aren’t you?” Ari chuckles breathlessly, running a hand through his hair again. He’s still pumping his dick, but more leisurely now, like a wolf who knows he has all night to play with his prey.

You shrug awkwardly, “I guess I am.”

“So tell me, how does a good girl like you like to be fucked?”

“Wh-What?!”

Ari snorts, “C’mon, sweetheart. You and I both know I’m gonna fuck you real soon. So I need to know how you like it. All sweet and slow? Because I can do that shit. Or are you a real freak in the sheets, and want me to shove your face against a pillow and take you hard and fast on your hands and knees?”

Your mouth drops open, and you suddenly feel so shy because how is he talking about such graphic things so easily???

“Mm, you like the sound of that second option huh?” Ari says, and now he sounds slightly breathless. His face is shiny with a layer of sheen, and his hair is falling over his face as he pumps his dick and his eyes look all over your topless form like he’s ravenous. “The innocent ones are always the freaky ones.”

“I’m not freaky!”

“So you don’t want me to fuck you doggy style with my hand round your throat like you’re wearing a goddamn collar, huh baby?” His voice sounds rough, gravelly, so infinitely turned on. And it’s crazy how quickly he switches back and forth from that to his casual, charming tone.

“Bet your little baby pussy is clenching right now, isn’t it baby? And I bet you’ve made a mess all over your bed because you’re so turned on.”

You glance down guiltily, hating how he’s right. There’s a huge wet stain on your sheets underneath you. You hadn’t realised just how wet you were because of all this. You bow your head and Ari smirks knowingly.

“Virgins get the wettest. And you’re a virgin, aren’t you?”

Your eyes widen even more and you nod. Fuck, fuck, fuck, how did he know?!

“That’s what I thought.” Ari lets out a low groan, jacking off even faster. “Now listen, I want you to practice for when I fuck you.”

“Practice?”

“Yes, baby. I need to teach you so many things. But first tell me, do you have a stuffed animal in your room?”

Your face lights up, “Sure I do! This is Fluffy!” You grab your stuffed lamb and wave it in front of your camera.

“Give Fluffy a kiss.” Ari orders you darkly, his tone switching to more serious.

“Huh?”

“You heard me. Give your toy a kiss.” His normally blue eyes are now almost black, his pupils are so blown out with lust. And his order is kind of weird but you feel your pussy clench and leak some more, and you know you’re turned on by how authoritative he’s being.

You obey, pecking the stuffed lamb quickly. You feel embarrassed but you’re also feeling extremely submissive. And obeying him is turning you on so much.

“Not like that, baby. Make out with Fluffy properly. Like you would if it was me.” Ari says, and you look at him in shock only to see him smirking lazily back at you. His dick is throbbing against his hairy abs and he’s once again lazily stroking himself as he watches you intently. “Use your tongue.”

It’s by far the weirdest thing you’ve ever done. You scrunch your eyes shut and try to imagine your stuffie is Ari. And it’s not like you haven’t done it before — because you’ve practiced kissing on your stuffies in the past. But never in front of an audience, let alone a ravenous looking jock who’s jacking off while watching your every move intently.

“Mm, just like that. You like kissing Fluffy, huh?” He asks you darkly, and you can hear the steady thwapping sound of him pumping his dick.

“Uh. Not really, it’s kind of wei—”

“Use your tongue more,” he cuts you off, “get your little toy nice and wet, baby. Mm, just like that. Daddy loves it when you do it like that.”

You gape at him, “d-daddy?”

Ari smirks, “yeah. That’s what you’re gonna call me from now on. Got it?”

You gulp, “I didn’t know that was a thing.”

He licks his lips, “of course you didn’t know, you’re just a baby. But guys love it when girls call them daddy. It just means I’m in charge of you and that I’ll take care of you. That sounds nice, doesn’t it?”

You mull over his words. That did sound nice, and the idea of calling him daddy was kinda making you feel all hot and bothered down there…

“Try it.” Ari suggests, “Say that you’re just a little baby who needs her daddy to tell her what to do.”

You bite your lip, “uh—okay. I-I’m just a little baby and I need my… my daddy to tell me what to do.” You pause and beam, looking at him through your phone screen proudly, “how was that?”

He nods approvingly, “you’re a natural, baby. Now why don’t you put Fluffy between your legs so he can kiss your other lips?”

Your jaw drops, and yet you feel yourself clench at his words, “What??”

“Come on, sweetheart. Do it for daddy. I’m not here to give you your special kissies down there, which means Fluffy has to do it, right?”

“Special k-kissies?”

“That’s right. Little baby girls like you need their special kissies or else you’ll disappoint your daddy.”

You glance down at your pyjama shorts which are soaking wet. Despite you feeling awkward, you also felt immensely turned on by each word that came out of his mouth. How he was ordering you to do these depraved things… How he was talking to you all condescendingly like you were a baby… Oh, you didn’t want to disappoint him!

Slowly, you spread your legs and press Fluffy down against your clothed mound. You make sure to pan your phone downwards so Ari can see, and he groans appreciatively. His thumb strokes the head of his dick before he moves his hand up and down, now leisurely stroking himself as if he wants to savour these next few moments.

“That’s right, hump your sexy little baby pussy against your toy. Doesn’t that feel so sexy, baby?”

You nod, “feels good, Ari—I mean daddy. It feels good.”

“Damn right it does, daddy always knows what’s best for my little baby.” He runs his hand through his already dishevelled hair. His cheeks are flushed and he’s got a dark, determined look on his face as he continues to jack off, his eyes glued on you.

“Ride your little stuffie just like that,” he murmurs, “get that pretty baby pussy all wet and slippery and worked up, ready for my daddy dick. How’s that sound, princess? You ready for daddy’s dick?”

You bite your lip again, this time in pleasure as you continue to rub your pussy against the stuffie, “I think so. But you’re so big…”

That makes him smile, and he pans his camera down again to show you his fat, angry red cock. He’s got a huge vein running down it, and you get the sudden urge to lick it. God, he was so big! And thick too! You feel giddy and scared at the thought that he might actually be your first…

“H-How many girls have you slept with, daddy?” you ask shyly.

“Only a few,” he snorts, his tone vague before the glint in his eye returns. “I think I’ll only be able to fit my big dick halfway through your tiny snatch.” He says, “What do you think, baby?”

You nod, “I agree, you’re—uh— super big, daddy.”

“Mmhm, but you’d love it even more if I held you down and forced my fat cock inside your baby cunt till I’m all the way in, so deep you can feel me in your fucking womb, wouldn’t you?” he lets out a string of curse words as he pumps himself, “Tell me you’d like that.”

“I would!” You cry, feeling like you’re so, so close to cumming, “d-daddy, I—”

“Shhh, baby girl. Daddy knows,” Ari’s watching you like a hawk as your movements grow more and more desperate, your hips rutting against your poor stuffed lamb. “Put your phone up against your pillow or something, so I can watch you ride your toy properly.”

You do as he asks, no questions asked. And it’s times like this where you feel extremely lucky that you don’t have a roommate. And you hope Ari doesn’t either.

“Yeah, just like that. Get your toy all wet, sweetheart. Fuck, you’re so sexy,” Ari spits down on his palm before resuming to pump his cock, “bet you wish it was daddy underneath you like that, don’t you? Bet you wish I was eating your cunt just like that.”

You fist the sheets, trying not to look at your stuffie as you straddle it, humping it like a wanton whore.

“Yeah? You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” A few strands of his brown hair flip over his forehead, and he pushes them back impatiently, “Riding your daddy’s tongue, rubbing your baby cunt all over my face while you hold your little stuffed animal and cry like a baby ‘cause it’s too much for a little girl like you to handle.”

“Oh, I’d really like that!” you cry out, the pleasure within you mounting as you continue to breathlessly rub against your stuffie. You don’t even know what you’re saying anymore, but he’s painting such a vivid, hot picture with his words that you can’t help but agree. “W-Wanna ride you so bad, daddy. Would be so much – ah! – so much better than Fluffy!”

Ari smirks, “Damn right, it would. And tell me how you’d dress up for me, baby.”

“Would wear anything you want me to!”

“Yeah? What about a pretty pink princess dress? You’d wear that for daddy?”

“Y-Yeah!”

“A cute and flouncy one, where your cute little ass pokes out every time you bend over in it,” he grunts, leaning forward as his pumping gets faster, “Your bare ass just begging for a hard slap – fuck! Tell me you’d like that!”

“I’d love it!” you agree quickly, your whole body on fire just from his words. But then, despite everything, a thought occurs to you, “B-But, daddy. I don’t have a flouncy pink dress like that.”

“Don’t worry, sweetheart. I’ll buy you one.” Ari promises. “But first, you need to take your shorts off for me.”

You don’t even object this time. The fabric of your pyjama shorts is all wet and sticky against your pussy, so you quickly discard them before resuming what you’re doing. And you can’t help but throw your head back and moan embarrassingly loudly, because the stuffie’s fur catching against your bare clit feels heavenly. You circle your hips against Fluffy with renowned vigour, all while Ari watches you closely with carnal eyes.

“Show me your ass,” he orders you softly, and yet there’s a note of authority in his tone, “show daddy your cute little baby ass, sweetheart.”

You grab your phone, scrunching your eyes shut as you twist awkwardly, pointing it to your ass. But your heart skips a beat when Ari groans in appreciation.

“Fuck, you’ve got such a cute little butt, princess,” Ari murmurs, his gaze on you intense. “I bet it jiggles all cutely when you slap it, huh?”

“I – ah! – I dunno…”

His dark eyes flash, “Slap your ass for me, princess.”

Oh gosh, how embarrassing! You hesitate, “I…I…”

“Do it. Do what daddy tells you,” Ari runs his tongue over his lips, “I’m in charge and I know what’s best for you, sweetheart. Don’t disappoint me. Spank your little baby ass for daddy.”

You do as he asks, so completely under his control that you just can’t think straight. All you want to do is chase your own pleasure as you continue to ride your stuffed animal, and listen to the dirty talk coming out of Ari’s mouth. You gingerly slap your ass lightly, and Ari moans in appreciation before ordering you to do it harder. You comply once more, you’re so close to orgasming that you don’t even think twice.

“Yeah, fuck. Just like that, baby. God, I wish I could spank that cute ass of yours myself. Next time I see you at a party, I’m bending you over my lap in front of everyone. You’d let me do that, wouldn’t you?”

“Yes!” You’d have agreed to anything at this point.

“Damn right. And I’d flip your skirt over and spank your bare ass in front of all my fucking friends, because you’re my property and I can do that, can’t I?”

“Y-Yes! Ari, I’m so close!”

“Oh yeah, baby? Cum then. I’m not stopping you.”

Your orgasm hits you like a freight train, and you don’t stop moving your hips, imagining your riding his thick cock as you cry out in pleasure. And you can hear Ari talking you through it, calling you his good little girl, telling you that daddy’s so proud of you, that you’re doing so well, that you’re so good at following instructions. And fuck, you’ve never been this wet before, and you’ve never cum this hard before. It takes you a good few minutes to recover, limbs shaking and your core so sensitive.

Once you finally regain your senses, you peer shyly at your phone once more to see Ari throwing away a wad of tissues.

“D-Did you…?”

He snorts, “After that show you just put on? Of course I did.”

Heat rushes to your face, a part of you disappointed that you missed out on watching him orgasm because you were too wrapped up in your own pleasure. “Oh. Wow, okay.”

Ari grins, “Look at you, all shy all of a sudden. Cat got your tongue, baby?”

You purse your lips and stick your chin out defiantly at him, “No! Just… Tired is all.”

Ari nods thoughtfully, “Tired, huh? So then I shouldn’t come over tonight?”

Tonight? But it was so late! And yet your pussy thrums at the thought.

“Y-You wanna come over?” You breathe.

“Yeah, sweetheart. I gotta touch you in person, otherwise I won’t be able to sleep the whole night.” He flashes you a cocky smile, and you watch in awe as he zips his jeans and pulls a shirt over his head. You can’t help but bite your lip. God, he was the most attractive, hottest guy you’d ever seen in your life!

“So, you gonna text me your address, or what?”

“Yes, daddy.”

So like… when I get horny, I tend to write things like this. ANYWAYS, lemme know what you think! Love you guys! This was sitting in my drafts for ages and finally I decided to finish it! 🩷🩷🩷

#ari levinson #ari levinson x reader #steve rogers #chris Evans #steve rogers x reader #daddy

[s-brant]

Jealousy, Jealousy

Nancy and Y/N are best friends. The problem is, Y/N and Steve have been secretly hooking up for weeks, and when Nancy asks for advice about possibly getting back together with him, Y/N doesn’t know how to feel.

“wow genuinely your steve fics are so good and seem to be super well thought out i’m literally scared that a prompt i send won’t be good enough!! i dont know i want to say “we shouldn’t be doing this” sex w steve because i’m a whore for it”

7k (18+)

Warnings: smut, penetrative sex, exhibitionism, praise kink, very slight dub-con if you squint due to wording but not really, it’s also just assumed reader is on the pill, and strong language.

This is wrong.

She knows that she shouldn't be thinking or feeling any of the things she is at the moment, but, when she looks up from her spot on the floor in the Wheeler's basement to find Steve staring at her, she cannot ignore the butterflies that stir to life in her stomach. Those pretty brown eyes of his are quick to avert back to the task at hand, but, for the short few seconds that they lock eyes, his lips twitch with the urge to curl up into a smile at her.

The thing is, Y/N and Steve have been secretly fucking for a few weeks now. In her defense, she didn't actively seek him out for the sake of having sex with him.

It was dark and rainy that night, and she was caught up in the storm on her bike as she pedaled home from cheer practice, eyes nearly shut from the wind that blew up the street at her face. The uniform she donned all afternoon was drenched from the downpour, and her hair stuck to the sides of her face as well. It annoyed her that she was two miles from home and her useless mother couldn't be bothered to part with her boyfriend to drive to get her, sure, but she tried not to let it bring her down.

Then, out of the gloom that hung over Hawkins, the headlights of a familiar BMW came up over the hill in the road to shine in her face, and she knew it was Steve before he even had the chance to slow to a stop and roll down his window to talk to her. If anyone else did this—even him a few years ago when he'd been the king of Hawkins High School—they'd come off as a creep, but it was Steve. Her best friend Nancy's sweet, if not a little clueless, ex-boyfriend who babysits her brother and his best friends. There was nothing to worry about.

He asked incredulously, "What are you doing out in this?" The doors to the car unlocked with a click. "Come on, I'll take you the rest of the way. You're gonna get sick."

So, she went. Her bike barely fit in the back of the car, and once she slammed the door shut, he wasted little time in driving off into the rainy night.

"Where do you live?" he asked.

She shook her head.

"I was gonna go ask Nance if I could crash in the basement. My mom didn't answer, and when she doesn't answer, it's probably not a good idea to come home unless I want to walk in on something that'll make me wanna bleach my eyes. Learned that lesson the hard way."

The sound of his melodic laugh filled the car, then, when she just stared at him, the amusement fell from his face.

"Oh, you're not kidding?"

It was her turn to laugh.

"I wish," she said, cutting him a sidelong glance before setting her sights back on the road ahead. "She and her weirdo boyfriend literally demand that I don't come home on nights he's over. Apparently, it's their constitutional right to fuck on the kitchen counter, I don't know."

There was a dip of silence in which neither of them said a word after that.

In his peripheral vision, he could see her fiddling with the hem of her soaked cheer skirt awkwardly as she avoided looking at him at all costs, and, suddenly, something changed.

Y/N had befriended Nancy shortly before their breakup, so he hasn't been in close proximity to her many times. Seeing that they've been broken up for a year, he doesn't have a reason to interact with her except for when he's picking up or dropping off the kids from the Wheeler's house when she's hanging out there. But, that night in his car, she was acting strange around him. Strange in the way that girls used to act around him all the time back when they hoped and prayed for a chance with the most popular guy at school. He didn't understand why she was behaving in such a way now, though. The way he saw it, he was a loser who couldn't even get into college like his other classmates and worked at Family Video.

What he didn't know, however, is that she didn't think he was a loser at all. If anything, her view on him then made a complete turnaround compared to when he was dating her best friend. When she got stuck with him and the kids last year at Joyce Byers' house and watched him go head-to-head with Billy in defense of Lucas, she knew a small part of her heart would always belong to Steve Harrington. She was the one to clean the cuts lining his face, as well as the blooded nose caused by the beating he took, and place bandaids from under the Byers' sink on each one of them. After that, she didn't see him again outside of fleeting glances in the hallway and through the windows of his car parked outside the Wheeler's place until recently.

He said, trying to keep his cool with the smoking hot girl he never noticed last year due to his Nancy-induced heartache sitting in the passenger's seat of his car, "I just dropped Dustin off at Mike's and Nancy was on her way out to see Jonathan."

She asked, "How about your place, then?" and the rest was history.

It wasn't even a half hour later that she was laid back on his couch with his head buried between her thighs and a hand gripping a fistful of his hair as she panted for air amidst the build-up to her orgasm. Then, after she woke in his bedroom and snuck out of the front door before his parents could notice her presence in the house, it wasn't long before they crossed paths again...and again and again. She'd wait around the back of the school where she knew Nancy wouldn't see for him to pick her up from school after his shift at Family Video, and they began to develop a routine of swimming in his pool, having dinner together since his parents couldn't be bothered to hang around with him, and having sex before he had to drive her back home in time to do her homework before bed.

As far as she was concerned, they were just having fun and not labeling whatever it was that was going on between them. Steve, on the other hand, was already imagining how her name might sound with his last name attached to the end of it.

Now, as they're sitting in Nancy's basement and helping the kids with the projects they waited until the very last second to start, he's still fantasizing about all the things he wants to do with her. Not just sexually, either. He's been trying to work up the nerve to ask her on a date for the past few days, but every time he tries, his nerves get in the way. That voice in the back of his mind sings its doubts, telling him that she'll never want him in the same way that he wants her. No one has ever wanted him to be the one, so why should it start with her?

When Steve gets up from the couch to pay for the pizza they ordered to the house, Nancy casts a look over her should at him to ensure he's too far to hear and scoots closer to Y/N while the kids are engrossed in their own conversations.

She whispers, "Can I tell you something? It's about Steve..."

Anxiety tightens the muscles of Y/N's chest as she tries to keep her face schooled into a mask of neutrality. Although she feels like the truth is written across her face every time she comes into the presence of her best friend, she is outwardly as calm as can be. She doesn't know whether or not she should take pride in the skill she's acquired in lying since she and Steve began hooking up.

What else can she do except nod?

Nancy goes on in a hushed tone, "I've been kind of having these...feelings for him again lately. Feelings I haven't had since we were together before. And I love Jonathan, I do, but I guess I'm just worried about what I'm missing. I just don't know if I made the right choice now that these feelings are back." As soon as the words leave her mouth, she shakes her head and shuts her as if that'll take them back. "That was so fucked up of me to say, I'm sorry."

The news sinks home inside of her like lead weighing her down at the bottom of her stomach. Part of the reason she hadn't bothered entertaining the curious side of her that wondered if Steve felt anything more for her in the quiet moments after they had sex, when he'd linger on top of her for a few seconds longer and murmur his praises into the warm curve of her neck, was because she'd be confronted with the issue of her best friend being his ex. Granted, they weren't best friends for the majority of the time they dated. She was more of a post-Steve thing, but that isn't the point. The point is, her own moral code, as well as girl code, dictates that Steve is strictly off limits. But, if that's true, why does she want him so badly?

But because of this, she cannot do anything other than force a reassuring smile on her face as she reaches for her friend's hand and whispers, "Thoughts aren't inherently bad or good, they're just thoughts. Everyone has doubts to themselves, but I think it's important to remember how well you and Jonathan work together. I mean, he was the reason you left Steve in the first place."

The words she doesn't speak aloud but feels clawing at her from the inside begging to be released are something along the lines of, Please, don't drag him back just to break his heart again in another year. Don't steal him away if you don't really want him. But, she can't say that, not because it isn't her honest opinion regardless of her current relationship with him, but because Nancy would know based on the waver in her voice that something is going on between them.

To her mortification, her words don't appear to help the difficult debate waging war on Nancy's mind. If anything, it muddles things further and creates more discourse.

"You're right, you're absolutely right, but..." Of course, there's a but. "What if my instinct is trying to tell me something and I'm ignoring it?"

There's a drawn-out pause, then—

"Maybe just wait and see how you feel for a few more weeks before you say or do anything. It might just be one of those things that comes and goes, y'know?"

Nancy is quick to nod, setting her focus back on the partially painted piece of cardboard belonging to Max's unfinished project. For another minute or so, Y/N can't do anything but focus on her out of the corner of her eye, worry stirring to life within that the happiness she's experienced in the past few weeks will be taken from her the second Nancy decides to talk about the feelings she's having.

Steve isn't hers, so why does she feel this nagging possessive instinct whenever she imagines her friend acting on the feelings she just admitted to having? She never realized until now, but she doesn't think she can share him. Whether that means they will soon need to have a talk about their arrangement and how the feelings she's having are getting in the way of it being just "fun" or not, she isn't sure, but she knows one thing.

She needs to find him.

Y/N sets down what she'd been working in favor of standing from her spot on the floor, knees tucked beneath her bottom on a stray cushion, and offers up a placating smile when multiple faces around the room perk up to see why she's leaving.

"Where are you going?" Mike asks.

"Bathroom," she says. "Be right back."

With a quick, worried glance at Nancy calms her nerves instantly. There's no suspicion present on her friend's face. If anything, she's too focused on the task at hand, as well as the difficult debate going on within her head over the whole Steve versus Jonathan thing that has existed since junior year of high school, to notice or care about her sneaking away to "use the bathroom". It allows Y/N's racing heart to slow momentarily as she ascends the old staircase to the Wheeler's basement and enters the main level of the house. Slowly, carefully, she shuts the door to the basement behind her to keep any conversation she may have with Steve as private as possible.

The bright array of cozy lights strung up around the Christmas tree positioned in the corner of the living room passes in her periphery on her way to the front door where she sees Steve talking to the pizza guy with one hand casually propped against the open door. She assumes it must be an old friend, perhaps someone who used to be on the varsity basketball or baseball team with him back when they were in school together, but it matters little to her who they are at the moment. The only thing she can think to do is stake her claim before it's too late. Or, at least, have one last good night with him before Nancy takes him back.

She waits with her back leaned up against the staircase railing and watches him take the stack of three boxes from the delivery man after handing him the cash as payment.

"Alright, have a nice night, man," Steve says.

The man lifts a hand to wave goodbye over his shoulder as he's turning to walk off in the direction of his parked car, and, with that, the front door swings shut. When he turns around with the pizza boxes balanced precariously in one hand, it's difficult not to flinch and drop them all to the floor at the unexpected sight of her standing there.

"Jesus Christ, you scared the shit out of me," he says after a second is taken to steady himself, one hand pressed over his chest as though to soothe his heart after the drastic shock it received. When she remains quiet, he furrows his brows, continuing, "You're really quiet right now. It's actually kind of creepy." His voice then quiets as a new thought comes to him. "...Unless it's a weird sex thing, then I might like it."

All she does is allow her lips to curl up a bit at the ends in a slight smile before she turns to walk down the hallway to the kitchen. The living room is being used by Mr. and Mrs. Wheeler to watch a popular movie Steve so kindly held aside at Family Video for them when they asked Y/N if he could do so. And, of course, since she was the one who asked, it was delivered right to Mrs. Wheeler the second he arrived tonight.

In fact, the exact words he said, although quietly so anyone at the store couldn't hear, when she asked was, "Sure. Anything for my girl."

My girl.

As she walks through the entrance to the kitchen with her back to him, she picks the two words apart over and over again. Particularly, she gets stuck on the first one. My. It lights a fire in the pit of her abdomen, desire flaring to life at the memory of him casually declaring her as something that belonged to him. My. A possessive word. One he had been comfortable in using. The question is, would he be comfortable with it the other way around? The voice in the back of her head can't help but wonder...

Is Steve hers?

He keeps eyeing her up suspiciously throughout the process of setting the pizza boxes down on the kitchen island one by one and checking to make sure they're what they ordered before the delivery man pulls out of the driveway. Once it's confirmed that they are, in fact, two plain cheese pizzas and one pepperoni for Max and Dustin, he pauses to call her odd behavior into question again.

Steve asks, "Okay, you're really starting to freak me out. Are you okay? Did I do something?" She doesn't allow her face to give away any of her true intentions as she walks around the island, making sure in her peripheral vision that there's no one around to see them as she approaches. "If I did something, you can just tell me—”

His sentence is cut off at the end by her kissing him to shut him up.

It's a surprise, sure, but it doesn't take him any longer than a second or two to realize what's happening and react accordingly. As if it's an instinct as natural as breathing, he kisses her back with an urgency that brings a flushed color to his cheeks and settles both hands on her hips to tug them closer. The warmth of his fingertips touching the stretch of bare skin between her slightly too-short sweater and jeans draws a barely-audible noise from the back of her throat. But, he hears it. He always picks up on those little things about her, whether they be sounds, expressions she makes, or anything of the sort.

The kiss is cut short a second or two later out of fear of someone walking in, but his hands refuse to stray from her hips when she pulls away with a look in her eyes he knows all too well. Her pupils are blown wide with lush, glazed-over in a way they never get outside of moments such as these, and he knows straight away what she wants from him.

He asks, "So, it was a sex thing?"

Finally, she can't help but break her act of stoicism and offers him a bright smile.

"Shut up and follow me."

"What about the kids—"

The sharp tug of her hand wrapped around his wrist brings him away from the kitchen island, bringing him along in every step she takes toward the entrance to the hallway. She doesn't bother to look over his shoulder when she next speaks. Instead, she gives his hand a reassuring squeeze to get the same sentiment across as the words leave her mouth.

"They think I'm in the bathroom. And, for all they know, you could be outside talking to the pizza guy," she offers.

It's settled, then.

Still, in the time it takes her to drag him down the hall and up the staircase behind her, Steve can't help but check over his shoulder multiple times to ensure Nancy, Robin, the kids, or Nancy's parents didn't see them leaving to go up the stairs. The last thing he expected tonight was for her to pounce on him like a feral animal and drag him upstairs to have her way with him in a house filled with people. They've done it in risky places before, like on the break room table at Family Video and his car parked at Lover's Lake, but they've never done it in a place as risky as Nancy's house.

Despite the mild confusion it causes, whatever it is that has gotten into her, he prays it never leaves. It isn't unusual for her to initiate sex with him. Hell, half the time, she's the one who leans in to kiss him first or calls to ask if he's home, but he has always been the one to initiate in situations like these. It was his idea to fuck her on the break room table just like it was his idea to bend her over the hood of his car at Lover's Lake last week.

Every door they pass and briefly pause at is a no-go. Mike's room? Absolutely not. Mr. and Mrs. Wheeler's room? Never. Holly's room? That would be the most deplorable thing either of them has ever done. So, when they reach Nancy's half-open bedroom at the end of the hallway, Y/N has no other choice but to pull him inside and push him up against the shut door.

In between the eager, open-mouthed kisses she gives him, he murmurs, "We shouldn't be doing this. Nance will literally murder us if she finds out."

She shakes her head into the kiss and pulls back, breathless, to say, "Then, we're gonna have to be quiet, huh?" before promptly reconnecting their mouths.

His face lights up at the mischievous tone her voice takes, and he can't ignore how his cock starts to strain against the tight denim of his Levi's at the mere thought of fucking her while everyone else is unaware downstairs. She can feel him smirk against her lips, his chest jerking with the sound of him chuckling to himself at how this girl has him wrapped around her finger.

And there it is. With a conflicted feeling of acceptance, he finally realizes he's falling in love again.

As soon as he realizes that this is real, that they're truly about to do this, Steve takes control of the situation in a matter of seconds. His hands make quick work of tugging her sweater off of her body. Her arms rise to make the task easier for him as he frantically undresses her and tosses the knitted fabric onto the floor behind the locked bedroom door. When she's free of the confines of her warm sweater, she then reaches for his shirt and rips it off with the same frantic nature he had with her. There's a time and place for unhurried, slow sex, but this is not one of them. By her estimation, they have five minutes to spare before their friends notice their absence and begin to question their whereabouts.

He hefts her up into her arms with his hands grasping the backs of her thighs to bring them around his hips, but right before he can set her down on the bed, she shakes her head.

"No, Steve, the headboard hitting the wall will be too loud."

This earns a scoff from him.

Though he'd never be dumb enough to bring up his ex while he's about to have sex with her, Steve is as familiar with Nancy's room as she is, if not more. After all, he snuck inside a handful of times and had to get creative so as to not allow her parents to hear what they were doing while they were asleep across the hallway. Her headboard does bang against the wall, that she's right about, but her mattress doesn't creak much, and if he puts a few of her pillows between the wall and the headboard...

He tosses her down onto the bed with ease and crawls up to meet her where she lays with her head cradled against one of the pillows. His hand reaches to the side to grab the other one and maneuvers it between the wall and headboard, then grabs one of the many decorative ones to do the same on the other end before coming back to her.

Ignoring her previous statement entirely, Steve asks, "You're real cute when you're nervous, you know that?"

The button and zipper to her jeans come undone with a few deft movements of his fingers, and she can't help but grin up at him in spite of her fear of getting caught as he pulls her pants and underwear down her legs in one smooth motion.

There's something better to her about being called cute or beautiful by him rather than the typical "hot" label guys have thrown at her. Don't get her wrong, being called hot is flattering in circumstances of one-night stands or even random compliments from those she likes, but having the guy you like call you cute or beautiful in a moment of heady desire is different. She knows by the way he said it alone that she isn't just an easy fuck to him. He genuinely likes her, and that's not something she ever expected to happen seeing that he used to be a well-known jerk as well as her best friend's ex-boyfriend.

He hardly has the chance to undo his own jeans and shove them partway down his thighs before she's tugging him down onto her with a needy plea for him to fuck her. Her arms wrap around his shoulders as he kisses her, his tongue invading her mouth without warning, and uses one of his hands to guide his cock through her sticky folds. When his tip rubs against her throbbing clit, she can't help but whisper more desperately, urging him to get on with it.

"Steve," she says, a sharp gasp escaping at the feeling of his tip against her entrance, "Please"—her hips press up to sink the tip of his cock into her a little more—"Need you."

Usually, he'd be the insufferable little bastard he always is and retort something like, "Yeah?" or "Tell me what you need from me," for the sake of getting her to blush for him, but they have already used up at least a minute of their time before things become suspicious, so he gives her what she wants without protest.

She cries out beneath him when he sinks into her with no opportunity for her to gradually adjust to his thick cock. Her fingernails dig into the soft skin of his shoulders with enough force to leave crescent-shaped marks indented into him. Before she can think to make another noise again, though, Steve's hand is covering her mouth.

His eyes have gone wide, and the smooth motion of his hips stalling for a second as he listens for anyone coming up the stairs before he pulls his hand from her face. Somewhere to the right of her body, he reaches to grab something she cannot be bothered to look at.

He says softly, "Gotta be quiet, baby," and stuffs the shirt Nancy left on the bed into her open mouth.

Y/N doesn't even have the chance to be shocked or turned on by the fact that he gagged her with his ex-girlfriend's shirt—while they're fucking on her bed—because he starts to move the second he's sure her noises won't get them caught. Well, at least, the noises coming from her mouth. As for the sound of their bodies smacking together, as well as the wet squelching sound that accompanies it from how wet she is, whether or not anyone hears that is left up to chance.

His arms are braced against the bed on either side of her head, caging her in and forcing her to look at him while he ruins her. It doesn't take much for her to feel that fire in the pit of her belly flare up. All it takes is the feeling of him pushing in and out of her, the spare hair at the base of his cock brushing against her clit on the upstroke, and she's melting in his arms.

Seeing Steve above her is like seeing every one of her wet dreams come to life. Sometimes she does dream about him. Whether it be when she's alone in her bedroom or sleeping beside him on nights they're both too exhausted to stray from his bed, she'll wake on the edge of climaxing with her hands balling up the sheets into a fist. When she's alone, she'll take care of it herself. When she's with him, she'll roll over and start nudging her face into the curve of his neck, peppering kisses there until he begins to stir from his sleep.

The sound of her muffled moans coming through the makeshift gag encourages him in his efforts to press himself deeper inside of her on every thrust. One of the hands beside her head grasps one of the posts of Nancy's headboard for leverage while the other slips down between their bodies to press down on the lowest point of her abdomen. When he puts pressure there, it intensifies the pleasure felt from the steady rocking motions he makes into her, and she can't help but buck her hips up to meet his thrusts.

The heel of his hand presses down right above her pubic bone, leaving his fingertips in a perfect position to rub her clit for her. He knows they have very little time, so he doesn't bother trying to get her to come from penetration alone like he often does when they're alone in his empty house while his parents are out. Before him, she never even knew that was something her body was capable of. That's not to say every other guy before him was terrible in bed, but there's a reason he gained a good reputation with the ladies in Hawkins. The first of which was that he had, as she already knew from girls who gossiped about hooking up with him, a big dick. The second and most important reason of all was that he knew what to do with it.

The sight of her breasts bouncing, although hindered slightly by the bra they couldn't be bothered to remove, brings him closer to his end quicker than he expected. He'd like to think he's experienced enough to spend more than a minute and a half fucking a girl before he feels himself getting close, but, with her, one would think he's a touch-starved virgin with how easy it is for her to work him up.

His forehead drops down to press against hers as he mutters, "God, you're fucking perfect," with the words pitching up into a whine at the end from how she clenches around him.

Just when he thinks he can feel her tensing up and writhing beneath him with the build-up to her orgasm, someone knocks on the bedroom door.

He goes as still as death, and Y/N, too lost in a world that solely consists of Steve Harrington and nothing else, looks up at him with her brows scrunching in confusion until she too hears what drew his attention away from her and caused him to stop.

"Y/N?"

Her eyes go wide at the sound of Nancy's voice, her hand coming up to rip the balled-up shirt out of her mouth in time to respond to her. But, of course, Steve would never let her off that easily. As she opens her mouth to speak, he starts to thrust into her again—slowly, deeply—and it takes everything she has not to whine his name as he rubs her sensitive clit in lazy circular motions to interrupt her train of thought. With the careful pace set and the pillows preventing the headboard from hitting the wall, the bed's constant shifting doesn't make enough noise to alert Nancy of what's happening inside.

She clears her throat and calls out before he can snap his hips forward into hers again, "Yeah? What's up?"

The doorknob rattles as though the person behind the door is trying to get in.

"Why is the door locked?"

Y/N looks up at Steve with pleading eyes that beg him to cease this torture and allow her the time to respond, but he doesn't. He just dips his head down to kiss at her neck, careful not to leave a mark behind, and leaves her to fend for herself.

"Um," she says, voice a tad louder than she intended from a particularly hard jerk of his hips, and rushes to cover up the accidental outburst, "I figured I'd change into my pajamas for the night. If we're gonna be eating a lot of pizza I don't really wanna"—a whimper is choked back at his fingers speeding up their movement on her clit—"be uncomfortable in my jeans."

"Oh, okay. Well, we're all downstairs whenever you're done." There's a dip of silence, as though Nancy is hesitating before saying what comes next, then, "Have you seen Steve? Dustin was looking for him when he came upstairs. None of us can find him."

Under his breath, he murmurs in annoyance with his hot exhales puffing against her ear, shaking his head, "Henderson."

Of course, Dustin would be the one to send Nancy upstairs in search of him when he's seconds from coming inside her best friend.

Her cock-drunk brain takes a delayed few seconds to conjure a believable alibi for the man fucking her into the mattress right now as she claws at his back and bites down on his shoulder to stifle the moans that try to escape the back of her throat. As Steve grows more and more confident with his ability to ramp up the pace and depth of his thrusts without the bed making too much noise, she starts to unravel rather quickly. She can sense it building in the bottom of her belly and starts shaking her head at him as if he can do anything to get Nancy to go away.

She has to concentrate all of her energy on keeping her voice steady as she says, "He said he was going out to get some soda for the kids 'cause he heard El asking Mike if you guys had some. He was just going to the store for it, so he'll probably be back in like ten minutes."

The second the last few words leave her, she tips over the edge, and his hand comes down to smother her mouth to prevent any noises she makes from echoing in the small room. Neither of them acknowledges whatever parting words Nancy offers before she retreats downstairs to the kitchen for dinner. Steve is far too preoccupied with watching and, more importantly, feeling her come beneath him.

The euphoria rushing through her has tears falling from her watery eyes as she embraces the intense high with her arms clinging around his waist for support. Now that he hears Nancy bounding down the steps, every one creaking beneath her shifting weight, he pounds into her with no thoughts present in his head other than those relating to her and the climax he chases with little care for how the bed begins to squeak beneath them.

"Steve," she cries out with tears slipping down her cheeks.

He brushes her hair from her face in a soothing, repetitive motion and whispers, "Such a good girl," as he pins her to the bed with his weight and uses the remaining scraps of energy left in him to slam his hips down against hers with a ferocity she can hardly cope with in her sensitive state. It doesn't take any longer than a few seconds for him to be tipped over the edge along with her.

His eyes are squeezed shut on instinct when he spills into her, hips jerking haphazardly, but she's quick to remedy that.

"Look at me," she whispers with a hand closing around his neck to force his head up, and he obeys without hesitation.

And, of course, she was right to tell him to do so. As soon as he meets eyes with her, the explosive pleasure felt in the span of ten or so seconds it takes for him to ride it out is heightened to a degree he rarely experiences it at. Even as it begins to slip away from him, he keeps rocking into her at a slow pace until the dying undulations of his hips give way to an exhaustion he can no longer ignore.

He pulls out of her, careful in his movements to mind her sensitivity, and falls onto his back on the empty space atop the mattress beside her. The second he leaves her, she's quick to tug her discarded panties back up her legs to avoid staining Nancy's bedding with his cum.

His hair-smattered chest has a thin sheen of perspiration over it, a drop of it rolling up and down with the rapid rise and fall of his panting breaths. Y/N watches its path as she turns onto her side and scoots closer as subtly as she can to savor the warmth emanating from his body.

Steve doesn't even pretend not to notice her sneaky attempt at cuddling up to him. He stretches his left arm over her head and uses the other to scoop around her waist, bringing her in to rest her head on his shoulder how he knows she likes to. They don't have much time to spare, but, for the next half minute, they lay together in the afterglow and pretend they have eternity to waste away together.

Breaking the silence, he groans and rubs his eyes, saying, "Shit, now I have to go get soda for the kids."

The sound of her giggling brings his attention over to the pretty girl laying with her head on his shoulder. Her hand trances circles in the layer of sweat shining on his chest, playing with the hair growing there whenever she becomes bored with her designated pattern of tracing every once in a while.

"Sorry about that. I couldn't think of anything else," she says softly.

He just shakes his head, then presses a kiss to the top of her head.

"Don't worry about it."

She's the first one to leave the bed to search for her discarded clothes, and once she gets up, he doesn't have many reasons to continue laying there other than the fact that he gets especially tired after he comes. Still, he forced himself to get up out of bed after pulling his pants back up into place and zipping them up.

Together, they redress in silence and listen to the sounds of the younger teens shouting at each other and laughing in the kitchen below them. It brings a soft smile to her face to imagine everyone having fun together after all of the heartache they've shared as a group.

"What are you smiling for?" Steve asks.

Her head snaps up from where it had been craned down to search through her backpack for the pajamas she mentioned to Nancy not long ago.

She shrugs.

"I just like hearing them have fun. They deserve it after everything they've been through."

The conversation drops back off into silence again after this, and he can't help but smile to himself as he thinks over what she said, trying not to look up and watch her redress while doing it like a creep. It's only another minute that passes before they're both fully clothed again—he in the same outfit he was wearing prior to their impromptu fuck, she in the pink matching pajama set he's seen her wear a million times. Once she runs her fingers through her hair a few times, it looks as though nothing out of the ordinary happened during her trip upstairs.

While he waits for her to fold up the clothes she changed out of, sitting on the edge of the bed, a nagging curiosity compelled him to ask her, "Not that I'm complaining, but what made you so..." He trails off for a second, trying to find the right word for it. "Horny. We could've just gone on a drive to the store together and pulled over if you asked."

For the first time since she dragged Steve upstairs, the words Nancy said to her in the basement come back to the forefront of her mind. This time, however, it doesn't haunt her as much as it had before she came to find him. There's a lingering sense of insecurity, but after what just happened, she has a good feeling he's been over Nancy for a while. If he weren't, he probably would've freaked out and stopped when she knocked on the door, but he hadn't. Instead, he decided to keep going for the sake of teasing her and acted as though his ex wasn't even standing on the other side of the door.

Y/N avoids making eye contact with him at all costs when she finally answers.

"Um," she says, "When you went upstairs for the pizza, Nancy said something to me about wondering if she made a mistake breaking up with you, and I guess I got a little...jealous..."

Before he can even take a breath, let alone process everything she said and come up with a coherent response, she continues rambling out of fear of what he'll say when he responds. Part of her still fears that he'll end whatever it is they have for the sake of rekindling what he had with Nancy.

"I know we aren't—like—dating, obviously, but I haven't been with anyone else since we started doing this, and if you wanna get back together with Nancy, I won't get in the way. I promise. If that's what you want, it's fine." She starts to pace back and forth in front of where he sits, dumbfounded, on the foot of the bed. "I just—I like hanging out with you, and I guess I like you, and the idea of seeing you with anyone else makes me go nuts, so—"

This time, it's his turn to shut her up with a kiss.

She was so caught up in her improvised speech, she didn't even see him standing up from the bed until his hands were cupping her face to pull her into a desperate kiss. It doesn't last any longer than a moment, but, fuck, it makes her even weaker in the knees than she already is from getting fucked by him a few minutes ago. Her hands shoot out to grasp onto his biceps, squeezing hard to keep herself upright, and he reciprocates by allowing one of his arms to cocoon around her back to provide her additional security.

When he pulls away, she starts to chase his lips, and he must fight the urge to smile hard enough to make his cheeks ache at the sight of it. The hand cupping her face moves to tuck her hair behind her ear, then drags his pointer finger along the edge of her jaw until she opens her eyes to see him staring at her.

"I don't want Nance, I want you."

Heat rushes to her cheeks in response to his honesty to add to the flush already present there from the strenuous exercise they endured together. And he loved it. He relishes in how bashful and skittish his unabashed desire makes her. Typically, she never lacks confidence in their time spent together. She was the one who suggested they go to his place that first night when he found her biking home in the rain. She was the one who dragged him upstairs demanding they have sex. Yet, now, she's turning all shy on him.

She tries her hardest to play it cool, though, shrugging and saying through a smile, "Good," before taking his hand to drag him over to the window he used to use to sneak into Nancy's room.

It's the same window she uses to sneak into her room on nights when Mr. and Mrs. Wheeler say no to their daughter's pleas to have her friend over, so she's quite familiar with how easy it is to enter and exit from. Thank God he has his wallet and keys stowed in the pockets of his jeans. If he left them downstairs, he could always go out and window and come through the front door pretending he "forgot" them, but that wouldn't be the most believable excuse considering how long he's been gone.

Seconds after she opens the window, he's crawling through with a fumbling awkwardness that ends with him bumping his head on the side of the house with a soft, "Ouch!" muttered into the cold night air.

When he's finally settled on the other side of the window, standing on the roof of the garage with his hands gripping the window sill, he takes another few seconds to look at her.

"I'm gonna miss you tonight. I didn't know you were sleeping here," he says, not wanting to leave just yet.

To this, she simply bends down, pokes her head through the window, and kisses him goodbye. Her hand grasps the hair at the base of his neck to guide him into it, and he returns the enthusiasm immediately, rising onto his tiptoes to deepen the kiss as if doing so will make the short time they're to spend apart easier somehow.

Their lips are still brushing when she pulls back to whisper, "I'm coming over tomorrow night, remember?"

He pecks her lips again, then pulls back, saying, "It's a date."

Throughout the ordeal of Steve jumping down from the roof and landing on his feet in the driveway with a muffled groan, she watches with a goofy smile on her face from the bedroom window. The look he shoots over his shoulder at her to check if she saw him stumble on the landing only widens that smile, and she knows he's blushing in embarrassment without the porch light being on to light his face.

It's only when he drives off in the direction of the nearest store that she shuts the window to keep out the cold that's raising goosebumps on her skin and turns to lean against it with a sigh. It isn't an exasperated one or even a sad one. It's a sigh caused by disbelief and joy. It doesn't matter that he's her best friend's ex at the moment. They'll find a way to break the news with as little fallout as possible when the time comes.

The only thing that matters to her at the moment is that he wants her.

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington smut #stranger things fanfiction #fanfiction

[carlgrimesenthusiast]

saviour! reader x carl where he’s got a huge crush on her and thinks she’s soooo hot so when the two find themselves alone, and she makes a suggestive comment towards him, he begs her to have sex with him

we’re supposed to hate each other…

warnings: swearing, smut.

a/n: i decided to make this into an actual fic instead of just short couple of paragraphs. plus i haven’t written a fic in a long time! i also wrote in capitalisation and didn’t make the writing smaller, thought i would try it out.

also, i made reader negans daughter so it would fit to the title, but everything else is the same!

You heard someone knocking on the door from the other side of the door. “Come in.” You yelled, rolling your eyes. Someone always had to interrupt whilst you were reading a book.

“Alright, pumpkin. Get up, we’re going to Alexandria.” Your father said, after opening the door. You love going to Alexandria, mostly because of a special someone always being there whilst your father went off taking supplies from everyone. You and Carl were supposed to hate each other, at least that’s what you thought.

Whenever you saw Carl, you get butterflies in your stomach but your ignored them. Even if you were supposedly dating, would it really work out? Your fathers hate each other and even thought hate is a strong word, they really do hate each other. You wouldn’t blame Rick, Carls dad, you knew what kind of person your dad was but that didn’t change the fact that you still love him.

“Fine.” You abruptly sat up, removing the blankets off of you and leaving the marked up book onto the bed side table. “When are we leaving?” You questioned, taking your jacket and putting it on.

“Now, all the trucks are outside all ready.” Your father said, waiting for you to hurry up.

“Well, I’m ready so let’s go.” Negan nodded before turning around, opening the door wider and letting you leave first before closing the door and locking it.

You made your way outside, walking past all the workers and taking quick glances at them. You felt bad for them but weren’t they being kept safe? It shouldn’t be that bad, it’s way better then being left outside with all those walkers lurking around. If I were them, I’d prefer to be kept inside, fed and being able to sleep all safely, well mostly safe…

You boarded the car with you dad, not being bothered to buckle your seatbelt because who else would be driving on the road apart from the Saviours? You and Negan made small talk, a large quantity of it being what we would take when we get there and if your dad was going to stir up even more hatred.

You arrived outside the gate of Alexandria, you waited for the Alexandrians to open the gate before all the vehicles made their way inside.

You jumped out the car happily, you loved being here. You honestly wish you were here instead of the Sanctuary. The houses and the trees and the bright sun, everything about it here was beautiful. You were brought out of your thoughts when a certain someone made their way towards you.

“Hey, Y/n, haven’t seen you in ages.” Carl said, hands in his pockets whilst he looked down at you with his eyes squinted from the sun.

“I saw you like last week…” You had an obvious look on his face, did he miss me or something? You smiled at the thought of Carl missing you.

“What you smiling about?” Carl questioned, your smile immediately dropped.

“Nothing.” You folded your arms across your chest, “now, show me something that I might be interested in.” Last week when you came to Alexandria, you met up with Carl again and you told him that next time you’re here, he should show you all the things he found for you that you could be interested in having.

“Alright, I’ll lead the way. It’s in my bedroom, by the way.” Carl nodded before leading the way, you were both stopped by someones voice.

“Darling, where you going?” Your fathers voice boomed out, you turned around to see your dad standing there with the Saviours carrying supplies back to the trucks.

“I’m going with Carl, he’s offering me things he thinks I might like.” You shouted, loud enough for Negan to hear since he was quite far.

“Alright, be back in 10 minutes!” He shouted back, you nodded and held your thumb up to show that you will be back.

“I’ve got some things that you will definitely like to have, hopefully.” Carl whispered the last part to himself, thinking that you couldn’t hear him, but you did.

Carl opened the door to his house and let you enter, you were shocked. Your face didn’t display it but your mind was thinking otherwise. The furniture, the carpet, the lights, the living room. Everything about it is so homely, exactly like it was before the world went to shit.

“Everything’s in my room, come on.” Carl shut the door behind him and led the way upstairs. He opened the door to his bedroom, there was one poster in his room and a ton of shit on his bed. That’s what he was offering, a ton of comics that you wondered where he found them, video games, books, a paint set…in prestige condition as well. You seriously needed to know where Carl found this stuff.

“I want the comics.” You said before making your way to the comics, picking it up from his bed and flicking through it.

“That’s my second favourite.” Carl pointed out, closing the door behind him and walking to stand beside you.

“Oh, well, then I’m taking it.” You smiled, “it’s so hot in here.” You fanned your face before taking your jacket off and placing it on the chair that was in Carls bedroom.

“Be careful, there’s some weird scenes in that one. That’s why it’s my favourite.” Carl joked, you chuckled slightly.

“So what, like sexual stuff?” You asked, he nodded. “Let’s recreate them.” You joked as well. Carl stayed quiet, not knowing how to react. His mind went to other places…he couldn’t help but think about you and him recreating those scenes… “Carl?” You nudged him, bringing him out of his thoughts.

“Yeah?” He breathed out, a very obvious rose pink blush spread across his face. “Do you really want to recreate those?” Carl blushed.

“Do you?” You looked at him, he breathed in before nodding.

“I mean, we only have like 5 minutes left…maybe another time.” You glanced down at your watch.

“No!” Carl startled you, your eyes widening at the sudden burst. “I mean, 5 minutes is enough.”

“Are you sure? What if my dad comes barging in the room and sees us?” You feared.

“He won’t, we can be quick.” You looked at Carl unsure, you felt your panties starting to stick to you. “Unless you totally want to, I’m not forcing you. In fact, let’s just forget about what I said. You wanted the comics, here you can have them.” Carl reassured you, he didn’t want to force you to do anything you didn’t like.

You found it cute how he was talking so fast, almost like he was nervous. The thought of Carl missing you and being nervous about you made you wet.

“Alright, let’s go back outside. I bet your dads waitin-“ You cut Carl off by grabbing his face and smashing his lips against yours. He held his hands over yours, you let go off his lips with a deep breath.

“You said we’ll be quick, right!?” You were already removing your shirt, Carl kissed you again before taking taking his own shirt off revealing his body to you. You gasped, running your hands along his body, feeling his light muscles coming out.

You laid Carl down onto the bed, sitting on his lap. He unclasped your bra from behind for you and took id off. He stared at your boob, mouth agape. “Can I?” He looked up at you, needy.

“Of course.” That’s all you needed to hear before his lips wrapped around your nipples. “Fuck.” You breathed under your breathe, tugging onto Carls hair.

Carl let go with a ‘pop’, you stood back up removing your jeans along with your panties whilst Carl did the same, removing his boxers. You straddled Carl again, wrapping your arms around his neck. You pulled him in, your lips made its way to his neck.

“Please, please.” Carl begged, you probably only had about 2 minutes left so you had to be quick.

Carl slowly felt your pussy, “Shit.” he was harder then ever now, he needed you wrapped around him so badly. He slowly aligned himself with your seeping hole. He slowly thrusted into you, letting you get used to the feeling.

“Carl.” You moaned, his arms wrapped around your waist, bringing you closer and kissing your neck. You whimpered, feeling Carl sucking on your neck.

“Fuck, next time I see you, I’m gonna take it nice and slow with you. Treat you real nicely.” He groaned, you rolled your hips in sync with Carls thrust.

You felt yourself coming close, “Shit baby, you feel so good.” Carl praised, his praises brought you closer. You bit your lip to suppress your moans.

“Fuck.” You held onto Carl so tightly as you came, Carl kept going to help you through your orgasm. You felt Carl release inside of you.

After you were out of the haze, you began to get redress. You retouched yourself, fixing your hair making sure it looked like it did before, fixing your clothing and soothing your hand over it to fix the creases. “I’m sorry this wasn’t quite the best ever, but I promise you when you come back I will treat you even better.” Carl held your hands within his, kissing each knuckle.

“This was the best carl.” You reassured him, “i’ll see you later.” You giggled, you gave him a quick kiss on the cheek before you and Carl made your way outside.

“There you are kid, I was getting worried.” Your dad said, folding his arms and a relieved look on his face.

“Sorry.” You giggled, you got into the car with your dad. Before leaving, you waved at Carl smiling so much.

“Did Carl not have anything good?” Negan asked.

“Nope” You popped the ‘p’.

“Why’re you smiling so much? Never seen you smile this much before.”

“No reason.” You looked back outside the window, he didn’t need to know the reason why you were.

a/n: i got lazy at the end :(( i’m sorry about that, i hope you enjoyed nonetheless! this is the longest fic i have ever written, my hands are very tired… also i just realised the title doesn’t really go with the plot but oh well… hope u enjoyed though!!!

thank you anon for the request!!!

(not proofread)

#carl grimes #carl grimes x reader #the walking dead #smut #carl grimes x you #carl grimes fluff #carl grimes smut #carl grimes angst #carl x you #carl grimes fic #negan smith #twd carl #carl twd #twd #twd fluff #carl grimes twd #carl grimes fanfiction #carl grimes fanfic #carl grimes x y/n

[xiaoriae]

INDIRECT CONFESSION.

— PAIRINGS ; albedo, childe & diluc x gn!reader (separate)

— NOTES ; a repost from my old blog!

as his assistant, alongside sucrose, and sometimes acted as klee’s unacknowledged babysitter, spending your time at ALBEDO’s base in dragonspine had been your daily routine.

you rarely set your foot in the big city. only been there to serve important matters, or when albedo sent you to become his attendant.

how attached you were to him was something beyond words. he was your partner in crime and your closest friend, so when you accidentally opened up the topic of finding and wanting to try a relationship other than those platonic ones at him—with how busy you were with helping him in his researches—the least thing you expected to hear was how straightforward and blunt his response was.

“but you have me,” that simple sentence left you in a shocked state. you knew he didn’t really filter his words but that, that particular sentence, you didn’t want to misunderstand him or was he really that serious, just like his eyes?

sure, albedo was inexperienced with relationships and social interactions in general, but, he knew. this foreign, warm, and fuzzy feeling inside his chest—how his heart went a little bit faster when you were around. those signs were more than enough to convince him that you meant much more to his life.

as per promised, CHILDE decided to treat you after you’d gotten back from a one-day comission back in mondstat.

seeing the harbinger smiling and hurriedly hugged you somehow made your exhausted body felt much, much better and recharged. your friend was your happy pill, and you were thankful to have him by your side.

both of you decided to take a stroll in the city of liyue, all bustling and busy—kids running around, fairy lights hanging everywhere and the continuous chattering of people—all in one amidst the preparation for the lunar new year festival.

a couple, not so far from you was eating and exchanging their love languages to one another, and for a fleeting moment, you stared at them for too long.

of course, childe noticed this, and when he was about to ask why you were looking somewhat deep in your thoughts, your eyes darted back to the couple and blurted out how did falling in love felt like exactly.

was it exciting? or just how did the feeling of basking in someone else’s affections felt like? the butterflies in your stomach?

all was unanswered by the ginger beside you, but when the night sky lightened up, with fireworks decorating and dancing across the dark canvas up in the air, the question of, “do you want to try them with me?” fell from his lips.

it was a rare sight to see you didn’t greet him at the tavern, and DILUC thought it was definitely a rarer to sight see you all alone at the corner. he couldn’t pinpoint just what you were doing there, seemingly depressed and slumped so why shouldn’t he check up on his friend, no?

usually, you would casually walking in through the wooden door, sat on the stool in front of the counter whilst ignoring all the prying eyes like you owned this place—not that he didn’t mind though—and sometimes, if you were in a such mood, you often interrupted him while he was working.

when there were lesser people, diluc smoothly came out from behind the counter. he quickly placed himself beside your seat. diluc was smart, he could sense something was off about your attitude.

but instead, as your friend for years, he knew more than everyone else to just let you be until you were the one who told things that had been weighing inside your mind.

diluc expected you to say something about how horrible your day had been, or how you complained about all these nasty people you had been handling with as one of the knights. yes, it was ironic to think that diluc had been in a good term with you despite your association.

what he didn’t expect for you to tell him was that your parents were pressuring you to find someone as your lover. something about wanting you to involve in a relationship since you were around that suitable age, but you were so confused with your current feelings that you decided to contemplate about this all day, and it was tiring, both physically and mentally.

“let’s meet up with your parents,” he finally voiced out, he was your friend, but why did you feel all tingling and nervous when his next words were, “i’ll convince them that i am beside you, always.”

all rights reserved © berrywoo 2023 strictly on tumblr only. any form of wrongdoings under the copyright law is strictly prohibited.

#[ writings ] #favoniuslibrary #genshin x reader #genshin x you #genshin fluff #genshin imagines #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact x you #genshin impact fluff #genshin impact imagines #albedo x reader #childe x reader #diluc x reader #albedo x you #childe x you #diluc x you #albedo fluff #childe fluff #diluc fluff #albedo imagines #childe imagines #diluc imagines

[witchslove]

Seven Minutes In Heaven

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Summary: Your best friend’s sister has hated you since the day you met. What happens when the two of you are forced to spend seven minutes alone together at a party? (College AU)

Warnings: 18+ nsfw content; smut, bottom!wanda, thigh riding, oral, fingering, dirty talk, mentions of strap-on use, jealousy, slight angst, drinking/partying

–––––––––––––

It was Friday night and as per usual, Pietro was dragging you with him to another college party. 

You didn’t mind parties, in fact, you enjoyed seeing your friends and having some drinks to loosen up after a long week of classes. The party wasn’t the problem. 

The problem was that Wanda Maximoff would be there.

Wanda was Pietro’s sister, who you’d met a number of times. And each time, she made it clear she didn’t like you one bit. 

When you first met her, you thought she was beautiful. You even joked with Pietro about him hiding his hot sister from you, to which he made a face and reminded you that he was the better looking sibling. 

Wanda made you curious. She was quiet, at least towards you, and you wanted to figure her out. You soon learned that she wasn’t quiet because she was shy, but because of her distaste for you. You had no idea what her problem was, but she was cold and dismissive every time you tried to talk to her. 

For a while you gave her the benefit of the doubt, knowing the reason for that was your crush on the brunette, but at some point you’d had enough. She was rude and unafraid to hurt your feelings. You decided to avoid her as much as you could, tired of the butterflies you felt whenever you saw her getting squashed by her snide comments and insults.

You weren’t exactly jumping for joy at the thought of seeing her tonight. 

Pietro was persistent though and before you knew it you were getting ready to head to the party with him. Wanda declined his offer to ride with the two of you, muttering something about getting a ride from Vision before rushing out the door. 

You knew Vision liked her, but you weren’t sure if she liked him back. Part of you hoped she didn’t, but another part of you knew you shouldn’t care. 

When you arrived at the party, your eyes scanned the room for familiar faces. You saw Wanda first, standing in a corner with Vision, far too close for your liking. You shook your head, trying to ignore those thoughts as you looked around. You spotted some of your friends near the kitchen and waved, walking towards them and fixing yourself a drink. 

The party became a lot more fun after you’d had a couple mixed drinks and played a few rounds of beer pong with Pietro. You tried to push down the jealousy you felt whenever you happened to see Wanda dancing on Vision, grinding her back against his front while his hands roamed her body. 

You focused on your game, eventually beating Pietro and leaving the two of you tied. Before you could start another round, Nat was announcing a game of Seven Minutes in Heaven, encouraging you and Pietro to join. 

When he found out Monica would be playing, he agreed without hesitation and grabbed your hand to pull you along. 

You sat next to him on the couch and your heart skipped a beat when you saw Wanda sitting in a chair across from you in the circle. Vision was sitting on the arm of the chair, not even paying attention to her as he got caught up in a drunken conversation with Tony about sports or girls or whatever college jocks usually talked about. 

You didn’t mean to make eye contact with Wanda, but when you did you felt yourself blush. You looked away when she practically glared at you, trying your best to brush off the sinking feeling it caused in your stomach.  

“Okay, who’s up first?” Nat asked loudly, looking around the group. Carol volunteered and you wondered who she was hoping to spend seven minutes alone with. When you saw her cheeks turn pink as Nat handed her the bottle, you no longer wondered. 

When she spun the bottle and it landed on Valkyrie, you bit back a chuckle. The crowd whooped and laughed as Val raised an eyebrow at Carol before extending her hand chivalrously to the blonde. They walked off to the bedroom where they’d spend the next seven minutes doing whatever they wanted. 

“Remember you’re supposed to be making out, or worse! Those are the rules!” Tony shouted down the hall, causing a few people to roll their eyes and giggle at his antics. 

While they were gone, the group kept themselves entertained with gossip and silly dares. You nudged Pietro when you noticed Monica was sitting next to him, encouraging him to make a move. He managed to make small talk with the girl and you decided to scroll on your phone to avoid accidentally looking in Wanda’s direction. 

When the two girls came back out, the group erupted in cheers and whistles at the sight of Carol with flushed cheeks and mussed up hair. Val followed, grinning smugly as they took their seats. Val only admitted they didn’t actually sleep together when Tony relentlessly teased them about it, saying she’d prefer to take her time with Carol and sending her a wink. 

Nat told everyone to settle down so the game could continue before walking around the circle, deciding who to throw under the bus next. 

You knew you were screwed when her eyes landed on you and she smiled suggestively. “Y/N, you’re up,” she said, handing you the bottle. 

You sighed, taking it from her and setting it on the table. You swallowed nervously as you spun it, unsure of who you’d even want it to land on. The prettiest girl in the room hated your guts, so you’d kind of hoped you’d get out of participating at all. 

But a small part of you still wanted it to land on Wanda, regardless of how unfairly she treated you. 

And to your surprise, it did. 

You wanted to sink back into the couch and let the cushions swallow you up when you saw her reaction to the bottle’s decision. She looked irritated and if you were reading her correctly, a little disgusted. If only you knew that somewhere deep down, she was just as nervous as you were. 

“Let’s get this over with,” she said coldly, standing up and walking out of the room. The group watched the interaction awkwardly and you stood up, making your way around the table to follow her. 

“Remember the rules!” Tony called out after you, earning a slap on the shoulder from Nat. 

Your hands shook as you opened the door to the bedroom, entering to find Wanda sitting on the bed. 

You walked over and sat next to her, trying to put as much distance between the two of you as possible. “So…” 

Wanda scoffed. “We’re not making out, Y/N,” she sighed. “I bet you’re pretty pissed the bottle landed on the wrong twin, huh?” 

“What?” you asked, confused.

“Oh, give it up already. I know you like Pietro,” she responded callously. “Why else would you be all over him all the time?” 

You stared at her in shock, almost wanting to laugh at the absurdity of her accusation. She sounded so sure of herself despite the fact that she couldn’t have been more wrong. Was this the reason she hated you so much?

“I don’t like Pietro, Wanda. He’s my best friend,” you replied, slightly amused by how much the whole thing was bothering her.

She rolled her eyes dramatically and looked at you. “Come on, Y/N, I’m not an idiot. And you’re a bad liar. You can’t even say it with a straight face.”

Now you were getting frustrated, offended even, and it showed. “Fuck you Wanda,” you spat. “If you’d ever even bothered to pay an ounce of attention to me you’d know I don’t even like guys!”

Her face fell at your admission, her mouth agape as you continued. 

“I don’t want to date him, we’re just friends. He’s not even the Maximoff I want,” you said with a scoff. The last part came out before you could stop it, your emotions clouding your judgment in the heat of the moment. 

When you realized what you’d just said, your blood went cold.

Wanda’s head tilted to the side at your words, her eyebrow raising the slightest bit when your confession hit her. 

“I- I didn’t know you were…” she trailed off.

“Gay?” you finished for her.

“Yeah.” A tense silence fell over the two of you for a moment, only broken by her inability to ignore your other comment. “So, who is the Maximoff you want?” she asked, teasing you.

You groaned in embarrassment, your cheeks flushing as you looked away.

“Your mom,” you retorted, trying to deflect, but she noticed the lack of seriousness in your voice. 

She chuckled before scooting closer to you. “That’s a shame, my mom isn’t the one sitting next to you at a party waiting for you to kiss her,” she said, taking you by surprise.

You looked at her, studying her face for any indication that she was messing with you. You wouldn’t put it past her to set you up in such a cruel way just so you’d humiliate yourself. 

“You hate me,” you mumbled, trying to regain control of the interaction.

“I was wrong,” she admitted, surprising you yet again. “And maybe a little jealous.” She said the last part so quietly you almost weren’t sure if you imagined it.

“Jealous?” 

She rolled her eyes at you again, but this time more playfully. “Do you really want to spend our seven minutes talking?”

“More like four minutes now,” you corrected, enjoying how easily you could rile her up.

“Oh shut up,” she grumbled, grabbing the back of your neck and pulling you in.

You’d expected the kiss to be aggressive from the impulsivity and Wanda’s irritation with you, but it wasn’t. While your lips met roughly at first, the kiss itself was painfully soft. You couldn’t believe this was happening when just moments ago you were at each other’s throats. 

You ran your tongue along her bottom lip, asking for entry which she granted immediately. When your tongues met, she moaned softly into your mouth, sending heat straight to your core. You wanted to hear it again. 

You brought a hand to her hip, letting your thumb slide under her shirt to stroke bare skin just above the waistband of her skirt. Her grip on the back of your neck tightened and the kiss became more heated, the two of you gasping for air by the time she finally pulled away. 

Before she could speak, you heard a voice calling out from the living room. “Time’s up ladies!” It was Nat, probably trying to save you from what you’d expected to be an awkward and maybe fatal encounter with Wanda. Just this once, you wished she wasn’t looking out for you. 

As Wanda caught her breath, she stared at you with darkened eyes and tinted cheeks. She looked even more beautiful like this, no longer hiding behind that angry facade you were all too familiar with. 

“I guess that’s it,” you said, feeling a twinge of disappointment. You weren’t sure where you would go from here; would Wanda treat you differently now or would you go back to being her worst enemy?

Her next words shocked you. 

“Do you want to get out of here?” she asked boldly. When you didn’t respond right away, she quickly tried to explain herself. “I- I just… don’t really want to stop… and the party’s lame anyway.” 

You realized she was nervous. Wanda Maximoff, always confident, always guarded, was nervous in the face of asking you to go home with her. 

You hadn’t expected the turn of events. You were sure she’d end up leaving the party that night draped all over Vision - it wouldn’t be the first time. 

“I doubt Vision would like that very much,” you said bitterly.

“Who cares? He’s not my boyfriend. He’ll probably just find some other girl to bother all night after I’m gone,” she replied nonchalantly, thinking nothing of it, but then she noticed the jealousy and uncertainty written all over your features and she softened. “There’s no need to be jealous.”

She leaned in, her mouth so close you could feel her hot breath against your ear and it made you shiver. “If you don’t want to come home with me, that’s fine. I’ll just have to take care of myself,” she whispered, emphasizing her words with a nibble to your ear lobe that had your eyes fluttering shut.

Images of Wanda touching herself to the thought of you flashed in your mind and you bit your lip to stifle a groan before turning towards her and grabbing her hand. “Let’s go,” you said, dragging her out of the bedroom.

When you reentered the living room, Wanda in tow, everyone was looking at the two of you expectantly. Nat and Pietro seemed surprised to see that Wanda hadn’t killed you during those seven minutes alone, but they didn’t get a chance to make a joke about it before you were asking him for the car keys. 

The group stared in awe, some exchanging amused looks at how things had turned out. 

He was about to protest and ask how he would get home when Monica placed a hand on his shoulder. “I can give you a ride later,” she said, making him smile giddily as he fished for his keys in his pocket. 

“Don’t make me regret this, if I come home and see or hear anything I’m not supposed to, you’re both paying for my therapy,” he warned, tossing you the keys. You nodded, chuckling, before bidding the group goodnight and escorting Wanda out of the house. 

Wanda made the drive home nearly impossible, teasing you with a hand on your thigh and her mouth on your neck as you tried not to crash the car.

When you arrived, the two of you rushed out of the car and into the house, where you pinned her against the front door the second it was closed. You attached your lips to her neck, payback for what she pulled in the car, nipping and sucking the sweet skin as she whimpered under your hold. “Bedroom, please,” she panted out. You delivered one last harsh bite to her neck before you released her, letting her lead you down the hall since you’d never been to her room before.

Once inside, you slammed the door behind you and brought your lips together again, walking her towards the bed. When the back of her knees hit the edge of the bed, she crawled backwards until she was laying against the pillows with you hovering over her. 

You took your time, languidly kissing her and letting your hands roam, relishing in the breathless moans she let out every time you bit her lip or ghosted your fingers over her clothed nipples. You kissed your way down her jaw to her neck, looking for all the spots that would elicit more delicious noises from her. 

While everything you were doing felt good, Wanda was growing impatient. You were taking such good care of her, but she needed more. She flipped your positions so she was on top, straddling your lap. 

You smiled up at her and brought your hands to her hips as she leaned back down to kiss you again. Her hips started a slow grind against your lap and when you pulled her down roughly, the button of your shorts bumping her clit just right, she moaned at the friction. Her movements in your lap became needy, her hips purposefully grinding down in search of more. You stopped her for a moment to slide further up on the bed so your thigh was between her legs. “Go on, pretty girl, use my thigh.”

She whined pitifully at that, excited at the prospect of getting some relief where she needed it most, but also not expecting you to be such an impossible tease instead of just fucking her into the mattress. She started up her movements again, this time rubbing herself against your thigh, her jaw slack as she whimpered in pleasure. 

You almost moaned when you felt her wetness against your skin, seeping through her panties and painting your thigh with every buck of her hips. “That’s it, Wanda,” you said, loosely guiding her thrusts as you watched her hungrily. “You look so good riding my thigh, pretty girl. Can you get off like this?” 

Your words sent a wave of arousal straight to her core, where she was dripping all over your leg. “I- I don’t know,” she managed between pants and moans. “But I’m close.” 

The sight of her like this was driving you mad, you could only stare in appreciation as her movements became more frantic. Her hands squeezed your shoulders the closer she got and you decided to help her out when you noticed the concentrated look on her face, her hips beginning to lose their rhythm. 

You gripped her eagerly, taking over the movements so she could lose herself in her pleasure. Her arms holding her up almost gave out at the new friction, needy moans filling the room as the tight coil within her threatened to explode. 

You were in awe at the sight of her above you, her face scrunched up in pleasure, her eyebrows furrowed, and her mouth hung open letting out the most erotic sounds you’d ever heard.

“Fuck, I’m gonna-” she cut herself off with a gasp and a moan, her legs starting to shake.

“Let go, Wanda, make a mess on my thigh. I want to watch you come for me.” 

That was all it took for her to tumble over the edge, hips stuttering against your thigh as she all but collapsed on top of you. She cried out as she came undone, gushing into her panties, and you greedily drank in the sight of her in ecstasy. You felt close just from watching her fall apart for you.

As she came down from her orgasm, you slowed your guided movements of her hips, letting her catch her breath. When she finally opened her eyes, she stared down at you with a satisfied smile before leaning down to kiss you.

The two of you stayed like that for a few minutes, locked in a tender kiss, before you curiously brought your hand to the front of her panties, wanting to feel the slickness against your fingertips. She gasped, breaking the kiss, still sensitive from her orgasm.

“Can you go again?” you asked, rubbing her teasingly through the soaked fabric. “I really wanna taste you.”

“Fuck,” she whispered, feeling her body heat up at your boldness. No one had ever spoken to her so candidly before and it made her head spin. 

“Is that a yes?” She nodded, biting her lip and waiting for you to flip her onto her back and ravish her. Instead, you tugged at her panties, encouraging her to remove them. “Take the skirt off too, I want you to sit on my face.”

Your words made her clench around nothing and she felt more wetness pooling in her already ruined underwear. She complied quickly and you helped her remove her shirt and bra too, wanting to see all of her. 

“God, you’re perfect, Wanda,” you said, devouring her with your eyes. She blushed, resisting the urge to cover herself under your intense gaze. 

She brought her hands to the hem of your shirt in a silent question and you sat up to discard the piece of clothing before laying back down and reaching for her once more.

You pulled her up and she swallowed her nerves as she positioned herself over your face. 

You felt like you were in heaven. 

Her soaked pussy hovered mere inches from your face, the intoxicating scent of her arousal invading your senses. She was beyond gorgeous, her exposed chest heaving with uneven breaths as you admired her swollen pink cunt, bringing your thumbs inward to spread her open for a better view. You practically drooled at the sight of her hole clenching around nothing, her folds glistening, her clit peeking out, begging to be touched.

She whined above you and you realized you were being horribly selfish. 

“You have such a pretty pussy, baby,” you said absentmindedly and before she could tell you to get on with it, you were dragging your tongue through her wetness, moaning at her taste. You didn’t hold back, moving your hands to her ass to pull her down against your face and messily eating her like a woman starved. You licked into her, her juices coating your tongue, and moved up to wrap your lips around her aching bundle of nerves.

You didn’t have to wonder if she was enjoying it as much as you were, because she was not at all shy when it came to voicing her pleasure. Loud moans and whimpers threatened to drown out the lewd slurping noises coming from between her legs. 

“So good, please, please.” Wanda didn’t even know what she was begging for, too lost in the sensations you were bringing her from your hot mouth against her needy pussy. 

She began to rock her hips, practically humping your face and spreading her wetness all over your nose, lips, and chin. You hummed and the vibrations caused her to let out a guttural moan, her movements speeding up as she neared her second orgasm of the night. 

She was still sensitive from the first one, so it didn’t take long before her legs were trembling around your head, your mouth working tirelessly to bring her over the edge. 

You brought your fingers up to tease her entrance before sliding two of them in with ease, her walls hot and slick around the digits. 

“Fuck Y/N, don’t stop, feels so good,” Wanda cried out, bringing a hand down to your head and grabbing onto your hair for dear life. You sucked harder on her clit, letting your teeth graze it ever so softly. You curled your fingers in search of the spot you knew would make her see stars and when you found it, her breath caught in her throat.

Her body stilled above you for just a second before her thighs closed around your head, muffling the sound of her noisy moans filling the room as her release hit her hard. 

Her walls clenched around your fingers harshly and when her thighs eased up their tight hold on you so she could thrust her hips lazily against your mouth, you replaced them with your tongue. You brought a thumb up to rub slow circles into her clit as you licked inside of her pulsing heat, her cum spilling into your mouth as she rode out her orgasm. 

You moaned against her, making her flinch from the overstimulation. Her movements finally stopped and she lifted herself from your face on shaky legs before collapsing next to you in the bed. 

You rolled over to face her and she looked at you with a lopsided smile on her face, still panting and recovering from the aftershocks. She giggled at the sight of you, your hair a mess and your face slick with her arousal. “God, I really made a mess of you,” she said, bringing a hand up to wipe your chin with her thumb. 

“I wouldn’t have it any other way,” you replied, moving forward to wrap your lips around the digit, your cheeks hollowing as you sucked it clean. 

“Fuck, that’s so hot,” she mused, the visual of you so hungry for her making her feel hot and bothered all over again. 

You released her thumb with a pop and she didn’t hesitate before crashing her lips against yours, sliding her tongue into your mouth and humming as she tasted herself. 

When she pulled back, her green eyes were dark with lust. “I want to try something,” she husked, pecking your lips one more time before crawling out of the bed and going straight for the bottom drawer of her nightstand.

She found what she was looking for and stood up. “I’ve never… with this,” she said, holding a charming red dildo and a matching harness. 

Your eyes widened and you found yourself nodding excitedly. 

“Are you sure?” you asked as she helped you into the harness.

She laid back against the pillows, biting her lip at the sight of you hovering over her, ready to fill her up with your cock. She spread her legs beneath you and smirked when she heard your breath hitch. 

“Shut up and fuck me.” 

You felt yourself throb at her words and the last coherent thought you had before lining up the silicone tip with her entrance was that you really hoped Pietro found somewhere else to crash for the night. 

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff smut #wanda maximoff x y/n #wanda maximoff imagine #bottom wanda maximoff #top reader #alexa writes

[bedsyandco]

Take me Back to the Night we Met

Summary: In which you’re dating one brother but in love with the other.

Note: This fic takes place last year when Adam was still playing at Michigan. I uhh- made Luca a bit of an ass in this, I apologize to my Luca girlies. Please remember that this is purely fiction. This is my first time writing Adam or Luca and for some reason this idea stuck with me so…I hope I did it justice! As always feedback is appreciated! <3

Requested: no

WC: 1.5K

You rub your hands up and down your arms as a chill sweeps through the living room. You doubt anybody else felt it since they were all huddled on the dance floor, their dancing and body heat keeping them warm. You were standing towards the corner of the room, ignoring your friends’ pleads to join them and instead focusing your attention on glancing between your phone and the door every few minutes.

Michigan had won their game tonight, and Luca told you to head to the party straight after, he’ll meet you there. Except it’s been nearly an hour now and there’s been no sight of your boyfriend. Your eyes shoot up when someone’s hand lands on your arm and butterflies immediately explode in your stomach when you see Adam looking down at you, a grin on his face.

Those butterflies are immediately followed by guilt, because you shouldn’t have that reaction to him. In the year that you’ve known him Adam has become your best friend, the person who makes you laugh the hardest, the one who wipes your tears, supports you, listens without judgement. He’s without a doubt the best person you know. But despite being all those things there was one thing Adam Fantilli wasn’t…yours.

That honor belonged to someone else. His brother of all people.

-

You met them on the same day, at a party just like this one, but it was Adam who had his eyes set on you first. He was heading to the kitchen to get a drink when he spotted you sitting on the counter, swinging your legs back and forth, a jar of pickles in your lap. Adam smiled at the sheer absurdity of it, observing you for a moment before he said, “Do you make it a habit to raid people’s fridges at parties?”

“Not everybody’s. Only my brother’s,” you replied shyly

“Ah,” Adam says, as he made the connection that whatever football player was hosting tonight was your brother.

“Do you want one?” you ask holding the jar out to Adam, and despite pickles not being his favourite thing, he lifts himself onto the counter next to you, and takes a pickle.

The conversation flowed easily after that and Adam was absolutely smitten with you from the start. It’s like he was mesmerized by everything about you. Your hair, your eyes, the way your nose scrunched up when you ate a particularly sour pickle, the freckles dusting your cheeks, the dimples that appeared as you laughed at something he said.

Adam could’ve sat there and talked to you all night, and he probably would have had his brother not stumbled into the kitchen and found the two of you.

The worst thing is probably that Adam had to watch it happen. He had to watch how Luca’s eyes sharpened with curiosity, the way he introduced himself as Adam’s older brother, the way he accidentally spilled his drink on your top and had to help you clean it, like this was some meet-cute in a cliche movie. The way Luca charmed you and captured all your attention, because that’s just what Luca does.

The way you got drunker by the minute, dancing with Luca and eventually went home with him. Adam was the one who cooked you breakfast the next morning, trying to quell the jealousy he felt as he saw you sitting by the counter in his brother’s shirt. And when you went home later that day Adam was the one who had to sit and listen to his brother gush about how much he liked you.

Adam couldn’t even be mad, because he couldn’t help but wonder if he’s been doing the same thing Luca his entire life. Luca was the one who loved hockey and Adam begrudgingly followed, falling in love with the game along the way. He was the one who followed Luca to Chicago, only to become the best player on the team and attract the attention towards himself. People started referring to Luca as Adam’s brother, despite Luca being there first.

Luca never once complained or had any animosity towards him. He’s always been the best older brother, the most supportive. So Adam would be supportive in return, he’s only known you one night anyway, it’s not a big deal. Except when you and Luca started dating, you and Adam started hanging out a lot more, and the more Adam spent time with you, the more he fell in love. And Adam had a hard time giving up and staying away from the things he loved.

-

“Are you cold?” Adam asks concerned, shrugging his jacket off and draping it over your shoulders.

“Thanks, is Luca with you?” you ask and Adam frowns.

“Uh no, Luca’s already here. He’s been here for like a half hour already. He hasn’t come to find you?” Adam asks releasing an annoyed scoff when you shake your head.

“You played really well tonight,” you say and some of the tension leaves Adam’s expression, his shoulders visibly relaxing.

“Thank you. It’s cause you were there. I’m beginning to think I should take you with me wherever I go,” he jokes and you smile not voicing your thoughts that scream yes to whatever Adam wants.

“You look beautiful tonight,” he whispers tucking a piece of hair behind your ear. Your body leans against the wall, Adam following, bracing his hands on either side of your head. The rational part of you knew that you were in public and even if you weren’t you shouldn’t be this close to Adam.

“Thank you,” you reply softly, as one of his hands slide to your waist, tracing patterns at the exposed skin there.

“Didn’t your paper grade come out today?” Adam asks, referring to a paper you had to write for one of your classes. You spent countless of hours on their couch writing that paper while they were playing videogames or watching TV. You were really nervous about the grade and had edited and re-edited it over and over until Adam read it through once, deeming it exceptional, and submitting it himself.

“Yeah, I got an A.” you admit a little bashfully and laugh at Adam’s reaction.

“Of course you did. I expected nothing less. It was a really great paper. Congrats, I’m so proud of you.” he says with a smile, pressing a kiss to your temple and cheek without thinking about it. It was hard not to love Adam when he did things like that. Remembered what was important to you and celebrated with you. Luca had skimmed the paper and deemed it boring, and he didn’t ask about it again.

It was hard not to compare Adam and Luca, because you knew them both so well. And although there were many similarities between them, there were also many differences. And it wasn’t that Luca was bad, he just…wasn’t Adam. Adam was everything you’ve ever wanted. And he was right there saying all the right things, doing all the right things. And all you wanted to do was kiss him. All the time. But you couldn’t, he was so close and yet…so far.

You wish you could go back to that night you met, knowing what you know now. Make it abundantly clear to everyone, including Adam, that you were only ever into him. That the hookup that happened between you and Luca was a drunken mistake, that lead to a friendly date and then an unhappy relationship. You didn’t know how to make it right. How to break up with Luca and be with Adam and not break anybody’s heart.

But you also didn’t know how long you can pretend to not be in love with Adam. You and Luca weren’t happy. Half the time it felt like Luca didn’t even want to be in this relationship. He was late for every date, missed all the important things in your life, never had anything but a surface level conversation with you, flirted with other girls and deemed “harmless”. It felt like you and Luca were platonic friends who kissed occasionally. You got yourself into this mess and you had no idea how to get yourself out unscathed.

You wish you could go back to the night you met Adam, and tell yourself to choose the right brother.

You wish you could go back to the night you met.

#luca fantilli x reader #adam fantilli imagine #adam fantilli x you #adam fantilli x reader

[mostlymarvelsstuff]

Speak To Me

Summary: Friends with benefits gets a little more complicated than either of you expected when feelings get involved and ignored. 

Warnings: angst(with happy ending), hurt/comfort, jealousy, sexual content(fingering, strap on sex)

Word count: 5130    Nat Masterlist   Marvel Masterlist

   You look down at the redhead below you, admiring her expression of pure bliss as she looks back at you with a dopey smile. You can feel butterflies erupt in your stomach at the sight of it. God what you wouldn't do to see that smile, or any of her other smiles. The one she reserves for just the two of you in tender moments, the ones she gives you during training when she has the upper hand, the ones she gives you when you make her laugh by doing or saying something stupid. You loved them all.

   You look into her emerald eyes and you know you’d do anything for her. You’d move mountains, burn bridges, hell you’d kill someone if it came down to that. And that's when the realization hits you. You love her. You love your best friend, Natasha Romanoff and that definitely was against the whole ‘friends with benefits’ agreement you’d made with her. It was just a way to relieve stress after missions or rough days, nothing more. That's what she had proposed, no feelings or strings attached. But you fell, and fell hard for the amazing Russian. And that was a problem.

   “I- I uh, I gotta go” you mumble out quickly pushing yourself off of and away from the other woman tossing the strap on that had previously been attached to your hips to the side as you began to get dressed

   Her brows furrow, “What?” At first she thought in her state she had misheard you, but before she could think anymore about it her bedroom door was closing and you had left without an explanation or a goodbye. 

   This was extremely unusual for you. The two of you had been doing this for some time now and you had a routine. After sex you’d lay there with her for a bit, your body weight on her to soothe her and then you’d help her clean up and give her cuddles before eventually saying your goodnights and leaving. Never had you left so abruptly, or without caring for her. The change is enough to upset her, she finds herself feeling like something is missing without you by her side still.

   She sniffles as a few tears make their way down her face, and reasonably she knows she shouldn’t be upset by this. This is what she had agreed to with you, casual meaningless sex. Only it wasn’t meaningless to her, not anymore. Somewhere along the way Natasha had found herself falling for you, and though everything screamed at her to stop falling or at least stop hooking up with you, she found she couldn’t do either of those things.

   You treated her like no one else ever had, both in bed and out of it so of course she fell for you. And once she knew how she felt she couldn’t end things with you, even though she knew it would hurt to stay, she was selfish. She wanted to pretend a little longer because she didn’t think she would be capable of going back to being just friends. Not now after she knew what your touch was like or what her name sounded like falling from your lips. Not after she knew what it was like to love you.

   When she wakes the next morning she can’t help but still feel uneasy about how you had left last night. She knew something was wrong, you wouldn't have acted that way otherwise right? She had to make sure you were ok. 

   Her confusion and worry only grows when you don’t meet her at her room to go on your morning run together. And when you don’t meet her in the kitchen for breakfast afterwards she can feel her heart drop. By the time afternoon training came she was beginning to think you were sent on some last minute mission and that's why you rushed away, but those thoughts disappear when she bumps into Yelena.

   “Hey sestra(sister). Y/n get tired of sparring with you finally?” she teases

    A look of confusion washes over her face, “What do you mean?”

    “Didn’t you know, she was in here with Bucky almost all morning” 

   “Oh” You are here then. You must have just forgotten to tell her of your sudden plans with Bucky.

   She continues through the rest of her day much like she normally would, only with the distinct lack of you by her side to share in the activities and give commentary. By the time dinner comes around she can feel the way her skin practically buzzes with excitement to see you. But when the team sits down for dinner, you are not among them. Anxiety then replaces her previous excitement.

   Wandas head is filled by the Russians' thoughts, which isn’t something new. Normally though they were about her strong feelings for you and how she felt conflicted on what to do, now they were focused on wondering where you were and if you were ok. Besides you the Sokovian was her next closest friend, other than Clint of course, and she hated seeing her upset. She gives her a sympathetic look and a small smile and Natasha gives her a smile in return, but it doesn't reach her eyes.

   Once nighttime falls, she still hasn’t seen you or received an answer to any of her texts or calls so she knows it's time to seek you out. She's hopeful when she sees the light coming from under your door, telling her that you are indeed there. Hesitantly she knocks and the seconds pass by without an answer. She tries again louder this time.

  “Y/n? It’s me.” she announces but still gets nothing, “Look, I just wanted to make sure you’re ok. You…you left in a hurry last night”

   When she hears some shuffling a smile spreads on her face but it quickly dies when instead of the door opening, the light shining out from under the door goes out. Presumably that meant you were going to bed, so she decides to give you your space even if it hurts her to do so. 

    You wake up feeling like absolute shit. You knew Natasha knew you were in here last night. You knew she was probably looking for you all day and was worried about you. And yet that didn't stop you from blatantly ignoring her last night. But you just couldn’t face her, not after realizing how much she meant to you. How were you supposed to look at her and not fall further? How were you supposed to tell her your feelings and expect not to lose her? You couldn’t. So you start the day off just as you had yesterday. Avoidance.

    You go to the kitchen for breakfast when you know she's off on her run. You spar with Bucky while she showers and eats breakfast. You hide out in the lab with Tony while she goes to training. You go on a run with Sam during her downtime and split lunch with him. You sneak back into the compound and shower while she's in the firing range with Yelena. You relax in your room with a book while the team eats dinner. You have Peter swing by with takeout for you before he heads home while the others watch a movie. You pretend to not be there at nighttime, sitting in the dark until sleep takes you. You never return a missed call and leave her messages on read. To your shame you continue like that for the rest of the week. And by then Natasha is well past her breaking point. 

   “Y/n please” the sadness is clear in her tone as she knocks and though it hurts, you ignore it, “I know you’re in there. If you won’t open the door at least….at least answer the phone. Please just- just talk to me”

   You rest your forehead on the thick piece of oak that stands between you both, not knowing she was doing the same on the other side as she desperately waited for a reply that you don’t give.

   “I’m really worried about you” she adds, still hearing nothing from you. “I..I miss you”

   Eventually she leaves, but you know this will continue. You need to find a reason to leave the compound from now on. You can’t be here during these hours, you can’t blatantly ignore her any longer. 

Thankfully the next day Sam gives you a reason. “You seem more stressed than usual, not burning enough steam on these runs?”

   You shake your head, “Guess not”

   “Well, I was planning on taking Bucky to the club tonight. He's been wanting to go for a while now to see what it's like, why don’t you join us.” he invites

   You contemplate it for a moment. Drinking and dancing was sure to help you relax but it also came with the chance of you hooking up with someone. But would that really be so bad when you desperately wanted your mind off a certain redhead?

   “Yeah I’ll come with. As long as Bucky doesn't mind me joining”

   Sams smiles and slaps your shoulder, “You kidding, he's the one that told me to invite you. Besides, the more the merrier, right?”

   “Yeah” you chuckle, “Right”

    Natasha hears about Sam and Buckys plans at the dinner table that evening when Tony teases them about not spending all the money on his black card. She hadn’t realized you'd be going with them though. She only figures that out when she hears the three of you return, obviously drunk and boisterously talking about the night's activities.

   “The two of you are so drunk” Bucky laughs as he watches you both stumble through the hall

  “Yep” you slur out and the Russian can’t help but frown. You hadn’t been quite this drunk in a while and normally when you would drink heavily you’d go out with her because you knew she wouldn’t let you over do it. Or she would at least take care of you the next day.

   Sam chuckles, “I think Y/ns more drunk on that blonde than anything. You see the way that girl was grinding up on her. Shiiit, that girl couldn't keep her hands off you”

   “I’m surprised you even came home with us” Bucky adds as he tries to keep you both upright

   “Shut up” you laugh, elbowing him and nearly falling

   The laughter dies as the three of you continue down the hall and Natasha hates how easily those words upset her. She hates how her chest tightens and tears run down her face at the thought of you even entertaining the idea of sleeping with another woman. The fact that someone else's hands might soon be touching you, caressing your body and discovering every scar and freckle just as she had, made her stomach twist.

   And she knows she has no right to feel this way, she wasn’t dating you and the two of you had never said anything about exclusively sleeping with the other but as far as she was aware you were only sleeping with her. So why might that have changed?

   If she had said or done something to upset you that night why couldn’t you just tell her so she could apologize and fix things with you. And if you had decided you didn't want to sleep with her anymore, god why couldn’t you just say that. She could handle it. She could settle back into just being friends, because having you in her life in some way was far better than this. Did you not feel the same, did you not want her at all anymore? Had sex been all she had been good for?

   For the first time in a very long time she doesn't hide away her emotions, she lets herself feel everything. A tidal wave of sadness and anger overcome her and she finds herself clutching at her bedsheets as sobs shake her. The faint smell of you still lingers on her pillow and she buries her face into it. She cries until exhaustion forces her into sleep, and it's a restless one. Because all she dreams about is you.

   The next evening when Wanda had heard the hesitant knock at her door she had expected to find Natasha, but she didn’t expect her to look so lost and heartbroken. Her eyes are red and puffy from crying and it looks like she hasn’t had a good night's rest in at least two days if not longer. She's wearing a baggy pair of sweatpants and her shirt is one of yours that she had stolen from you, she cherishes it now more than she ever did.

   Wanda opens the door fully to allow her friend to come inside and she's barely able to close the door before the Russians' smaller frame is hugging her, clutching onto her like she'd fall apart without her support. Wanda thinks she just might.

   She soothingly rubs the older woman's back and allows her to get some crying out of her system before she asks anything. But she knows Nat needs to talk, she probably wouldn’t have come here otherwise.

   “What happened Nat?”

   “I- I don’t even know!” she sobs out

   Wanda's hold on her tightens slightly, “Shh, it's ok. Just take a few deep breaths and start at the beginning”

   Natasha hesitantly explains everything to her. Her suggesting the friends with benefits idea, her falling in love with you, the last time she had seen you and all your behaviors since then. Wanda had listened to everything as they sat on her bed and she couldn't believe you would treat Nat so rudely and act so careless with her emotions. 

   “I…I love her Wans. I love her so much and for her to just toss me aside like this, it kills me.” she admits, “Even if she doesn't love me I thought we were friends, best friends. But she left me like I was nothing. I just want to know what I did wrong”

   Wanda's heart drops when she hears that and her anger with you only grows, “Oh honey, you haven’t done anything wrong. Nothing at all. Y/n is the one at fault here. She's the one that left, she's the one that is avoiding you, she's the one that won’t tell you what's wrong.”

   “What if I’m what's wrong?” she asks in a whisper

   Wanda shakes her head, “You aren't”

   “But I’m the one that broke the agreement, I’m the one that involved my feelings” she argues

   “But Y/n doesn't know that, and even if she did it does not justify her lack of communication and avoidance with you.” She reasons. Natashas heartbroken expression remains and Wanda holds her close as she continues to cry

   Wandas mind is then overrun with another's thoughts, and her jaw clenches as she realizes it's you. As if you had any right to be in such a conflicted state after you've been ignoring Nat. However, the more she listens, the more she sees you are just scared, and so she escorts the Russian to the elevator, “Go talk to her Nat, don’t give her a chance to ignore you or say no. Pick the damn lock if you have to.”

   Nat solemnly nods and hits the button to take her to your floor. She wants to get straight to the point with you, so she uses what little time this short ride has to offer in order to sort out her thoughts and emotions. As the doors open she takes a deep breath before stepping out and heading off to your room. 

   She turns down your hall in time to nearly bump into a blonde woman, who obviously came from your room if your closing door was any indication, and a wave of various emotions overcome her. Was this the woman from the club? Were you fucking this woman? Was this the reason why you had disappeared from her life? 

   Tears cloud her vision as she storms her way to your door, she's not sure if they're from sadness or anger and right now she doesn’t really even care. All she cares about now is confronting you about this, and that shows in the strength she uses to pound on your door. To her surprise your door opens almost immediately, and she's met with your surprised expression on the other side. You’d likely thought it was your ‘friend’ that you'd just parted with, not a very pissed off Russian.

   You hadn’t expected Natasha to be there, though considering the circumstances of late, you should have. You weren’t prepared to see such anger on her face, nor did you expect to see tears slipping down her cheeks. Guilt slams into you like a semi and your heart twists knowing you were the cause of it. Seeing her in pain, the pain you've caused, is your wake up call. You really fucked up, and its way past time to apologize and explain yourself. 

   “Nat- ”

   “Shut up” she says with a shove to your shoulders, causing you to stumble backwards a few steps as she brushes past you into your room.

   “Natasha, please” you try again as you move to shut your door

   “I said, shut up!” she replies, shoving you again and effectively trapping you between the wall and her. She stares you down, her chest heaving as she tries in vain to hold in a few tears. Finally she breaks the silence, “What's her damn name, Y/n?”

   “What the hell are you talking about?”

   “The bitch you've been fucking while you've been ignoring me!” she shouts, clenching her fists, “Tell me Y/n, did she take your strap as well as I can? I bet she didn’t. Bet she didn’t fuck you like I can either.”

   Your face falls into one of sadness and offense, “Not that I owe you my abstinence Natasha, but you’ll be glad to know that I couldn’t even imagine talking to someone else, let alone fucking them!”

   She scoffs “Oh, really? So me running into the very blonde bimbo Bucky and Sam were talking about being all over you last night as she left your room, was just a coincidence then??”

   “Yes!”

   “Bullshit! You can’t just pretend nothing happened Y/n!”

   “Nothing did happen Natasha!” You let out a strained breath, “She came here to return my wallet that I left behind in my drunken stupor. Did she come onto me while here, yes she did, but I couldn’t have cared less!”

   Her jaw clenches and she looks away from you, “You're lying. You liked her attention.”

  “No, Nat…I- I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for any of this to happen.” you stress, “Sure, Sarah was attractive, but the point is that she wasn’t you Nat…I-I broke our deal, I- ”

   Your sentence dies in your throat, effectively cut off by her sharp glare. Something which you've never been on the receiving end of before and it honestly sent a shiver through you.

   “Oh, so you know the fucking whores name then?!” she spits, grabbing you by the shirt collar and yanking you over to the bed

   You land with enough force to bounce slightly and look at her with a puzzled expression, “Wait, earlier you ask- ”

   Her lips suddenly smash against yours, and all thoughts of anything other than Natasha fade from your mind

   “Just shut up Y/n” she mumbles against your lips as her hands push you further into the mattress and you relax beneath her, letting her know she's in control.

   Her hands roughly pull at the bottom of your shirt and she only breaks the kiss long enough to remove it from you. Your bra follows right after it and she quickly grabs your breasts, squeezing them in such a manner that has you moaning into her mouth. Her hands swiftly make their way down your torso to your waistband and she practically rips your pants and underwear from your body with her harsher than normal movements. 

   Her hand makes its way between your thighs, causing you to instinctively open your legs wider for her. Sensing your eagerness she waits, opting to merely cup your cunt as her lips move away from yours. Instead she focuses their assault on your neck, somewhere normally forbidden to her. 

   She bites and sucks from your ear to your collarbone, ensuring bruises are left behind on your skin for all to see. Finally she slips two fingers inside you, letting out a moan as your warm wet walls envelope her, but her face quickly hardens again as she looks at you.

   “You're dripping…question is, is it for me or that whore?” she growls out, plunging her fingers deep inside you

   “Y- you Tasha!” you stutter out, “Only you have that effect on me”

   Satisfied with your answer her fingers start up thrusting inside of you, pulling sounds of pleasure from you as you squirm beneath her. It’s truly a sight to behold, something she doesn’t get to see often as you normally took the reins, but it's not enough to make her forget what the two of you were even in this situation.

   “God, you're just a scared little whore huh?” she asks as her fingers thrust inside you, “Could never commit to much of anything, could you?”

   Her statement on your insecurities catches you entirely off guard, and with her fingers buried in you the way they are, you can’t find it in yourself to answer her in any proper way. Instead only whimpers and moans cascade past your lips as she works to bring you over the edge.

   “You selfish, stupid, asshole” she chastises, weakly hitting your chest between each word, “Why couldn’t you just talk to me?”

   “ ‘m sorry!” you mumble, too caught up in pleasure for your brain to form a proper and heartfelt apology

   “All you ever do is run!” she shouts, voice cracking with raw emotion as her lip trembles. Not trusting that she’d be able to reprimand you further she remains quiet, putting her sole focus into speeding up her fingers movements. 

   “Gonna cum” you mumble as your walls flutter around her and with one final thrust, you release onto her hand with a shout, “Natasha!”

   Natasha practically collapses on top of you and buries her face in your still heaving chest in an effort to muffle her sobs. And it works at first, because the only thing you can hear is your heart pounding in your ears. But once your body begins to calm itself you become more aware. You can hear her sniffling now and can feel her warm tears against your skin. You wrap your arms around her tightly, causing her to only cry harder against you and you mentally curse yourself for causing her this much pain.

   "I know baby, I know. I did a horrible thing, I hurt you, and I'm so sorry Tasha. I'm so very sorry" you tell her while gently rubbing her back "I was scared but I shouldn't have ran. You deserved better from me. I'm so sorry"

   You kiss the top of her head a few times and begin humming the Russian lullaby she normally hums for you when you're upset. This seems to do the trick as her crying slows down and her muscles begin to relax, though her hold on you never falters.

   "I'm sorry Tasha. I really truly am. And you don't have to forgive me, but please let me take care of you right now. Let me treat you how I should have that night. Please"

  She remains silent, and at first you think she's going to reject your idea. Tell you no and to fuck off, and honestly you wouldn't blame her if she did, but then she shifts to look you in the eyes.

  Hers are swollen and rimmed red from her tears, but they're also full of the pliancy she reserved solely for you, "Yes please"

   You quickly oblige, removing her shirt and bra before capturing her lips in a heated kiss. While your lips are occupied your hands manage to help rid her of her pants and underwear. Effortlessly you flip your positions, pinning her underneath you with a grunt. Your tongue makes its way into her mouth and she lets out a moan when one of your hands makes its way underneath her shirt.

   “Y/n” she whimpers, her hips jerking up into yours, “Please baby, I need you”

   “I’ve got you Tasha” you reassure her, softly trailing your hand across her toned stomach, “Tell me what you want, my fingers or my strap?”

   She squirms slightly, “Need your cock, please”

   You separate yourself from her long enough to attach it to your hips before rejoining her in bed, slotting yourself between her legs. You glance at her to find her eyes darkened and her lower lip trapped between her teeth as she looks at you, it drives you wild. 

   “You're beautiful” you admit, letting your hands caress her sides as the tip of the faux cock prods at her entrance. Slowly you slide inside her and she moans at the pleasurable stretch, “And you're taking me so well”

   She whimpers and hastily grabs your hands, pulling them from her hips to her breasts. You get the idea and squeeze them as you begin thrusting your hips,  “Ooh fuck!”

   Her hands find purchase on your shoulders as you pick up the pace of your thrusts and you begin to pepper soft kisses against her chest, “I’m so sorry I hurt you Tasha. Gonna take care of you from now on, I promise. Even if you don’t want me like this anymore, I’ll still take care of you”

  A few tears escape her eyes as your lips attach themselves to her neck, sucking a mark into her ivory skin, “I want you. Please don’t leave me”

   “I’m not going anywhere baby” you assure her, “I’m all yours”

   She cups your face and pulls you up into a kiss, it's messy but full of passion and quite literally leaves the Russian breathless. But she wants more.

   “Fuck me harder detka(baby), please” She whimpers as her hold on you tightens. You comply with a growl, letting your hips slam into hers as her nails dig into your skin, “Blyad'(Fuck)! Prosto tak! Ne ostanavlivaysya! (Just like that! Don’t stop!)

   The fact that she's slipped into Russian tells you she's close so your hips move with even more vigor and your hand moves to her clit. You can feel the way her pussy tightens around the toy so you do the one thing guaranteed to send her over the edge.

   “Cum for me krasivaya(beautiful)”

   “Y/n!” she shouts, her body shaking as you continue to slowly fuck her through her orgasm. Her hands clutch at you, desperate to keep you close

   “I got you baby, I’m right here.” you soothe, letting your forehead rest against hers as you pull out of her. 

   You do your best to remove the toy from your hips without leaving her, tossing it aside once it's off. You then settle yourself above her and rest your weight on her, just the comfort you know she needs. She wraps her arms around you, nuzzling into your embrace as she allows her body some time to calm down.

   After a few minutes her breathing is once again normal and she decides it's time to talk a little more rationally, “Y/n?”

   “Yeah Tasha?” you reply, sitting up slightly to look her in the eye

   Her hands run along your back to help keep you calm, “Earlier you said you were scared and that's what caused this. What are you scared of?”

  “I uh, I- ” You swallow hard, still nervous despite knowing it was likely she felt similarly based on her earlier reactions, “I love you”

  She swears her heart skips a beat, “Say it again”

  “I love you”

  Her lips slam against yours so fast that you nearly get whiplash, but it's worth it to hear her reply, “I love you too. So next time, for the love of god just talk to me. Please”

   You nod, “I will, I promise you.”

   “Good. Otherwise I’ll tell Wanda kick your ass” she half jokes, poking your nose

   “If I ever hurt you like this again, I’ll tell her that myself”

   Nat smiles at you before getting comfortable once more, but your abrupt movements interrupt her peace and she glares at you. You can’t help but laugh at the grumpy glare and accompanying pout.

   “Hang on baby, we can sleep in a minute i promise,  just let me get something first” you tell her before haphazardly throwing your clothes on and practically sprinting out of the room 

   You arrive in the kitchen to find it empty, which is probably a good thing considering the state of your neck, and the fact that you had Nats pants on, not yours. So you quickly grab the caviar you’d gotten for her as an apology gift, two bottles of water and a bag of chips for yourself.

   The redhead smiles happily when you return, her smile widening as she notices the snack you're handing her, “You got me caviar?”

   “I did. It’s your favorite and I owed you an apology, so…”

   She reaches out for you but you giggle, “Hang on, I’ve got one more thing”

   She huffs, faking annoyance as you shuffle things around in your closet. By the time you find the item she's halfway through with her caviar, and very curious. That curiosity only grows when you hide it behind your back as you approach her. You sit back down on the bed and plop it into her lap. She admires the plush cat with a smile

   “I know how badly you want a cat, but this’ll have to work for us for now while we live in the compound”

   She sets the caviar tin down to pick up the plush, and she gives you a tearful smile, “Us?”

   “Yeah. Us.” you reply, “I told you, I’m here now and I’m not going anywhere.”

   She cuddles the plush against her as she nearly throws herself at you. You catch her in your arms and she wraps hers around your waist, leaning her head against your chest. You know she's not moving anytime soon so you settle yourself down into the mattress and pull the blanket up over you both. A few minutes pass and you're certain Nat is asleep so you let yourself get closer to sleep yourself, but she wasn't asleep.

  “Mine” Natasha mumbles against you, causing you to smile

   “All yours Tasha”

Taglist: @wandaromamoff69 @mmmmokdok @nataliasknife @natashasilverfox @when-wolves-howl @danveration @naomi-m3ndez @sheneonromanoff @sayah13 @likefirenrain @nighttime-dreaming ​ @readings-stuff @chaoticevilbakugo @crystalstark02 @wackymcstupid @xchaiix @iaminluvwithnat @lovelyy-moonlight @blackwidow-3 @mistressofinsomnia @that-one-gay-mosquito @yomamagf @yourfavdummy @justarandomreaderxoxo @scoutlp23-blog @whoischanelle15 @lissaaaa145 @eline03 @wizardofstories @imthenatynat @marvelonmymind @fluffyblanketgecko @bitch-616 @dakotastormm  @zoomdeathknight @rayeofmoonlight

#natasha x y/n #natasha romanoff #natasha x reader #natasha romanoff x reader #marvel #marvel fanfiction #fanfic

[nobodyfamousposts]

Another Miraculous Crossover Nobody Wanted (DCxML)

In the midst of so many Batfamily/Miraculous crossovers, the thing I feel so many people forget is that the Waynes are...well...themselves.

Sure, they're awesome vigilantes. Trained in martial arts and with great mental fortitude to help them against the likes of Scarecrow's fear gas, Joker's venom, and Mad Hatter's manipulations.

...the problem is that Hawk Moth is a whole different ballgame.

He doesn't target their fears or dreams. He targets ANYTHING. Like petty annoyances. Frustrations. Sleep deprivation. Obsessions. Things the Batfamily generally try to ignore on a regular basis.

If he can akumatize and reakumatize the same man over his love of pigeons and people who feel they've been wronged over silly reasons, there's SO MUCH that could come from the complete dysfunction/emotional constipation that is the Wayne family. Remember, ANY frustration or annoyance or upset counts. 

Meaning Ladybug and Chat will be having their hands full with the Waynes until they leave.

And given that Hawk Moth comes up with the silliest costumes and powers...

...the others would never let them live it down.

...

It was a beautiful day in Paris. And an absolutely wonderful vacation to the City of Love, where everything was peaceful and nothing was wrong.

Dick stood at the window looking out over the city.

Tim was on his computer doing some reports. Possibly Wayne Enterprises work, but more likely mission work.

Damien had apparently gotten tired of grumbling and was focused on sharpening his sword—which Bruce really shouldn’t have let him bring. But given the situation, he couldn’t argue against letting Damien have something that would help him stay calm.

Cass had found a magazine to occupy her time, though she seemed somewhat confused as to the male teen model that kept appearing in nearly every line.

And Jason…

…he was grinning. And watching Bruce with such anticipation, looking downright hopeful as he waited. Not helping was that he was holding what appeared to be a brand new camera, fully prepared to start recording.

Bruce knew why.

But he would not give him the satisfaction.

Because nothing was going to happen.

Absolutely nothing.

Bruce twitched.

SNAP!

And his pen cracked from the sheer amount of pressure he was putting on it. Which was admittedly an annoyance, but wasn’t that big of a deal…

…if it wasn’t the 15th pen he’d broken in the past three hours.

It was fine though.

Nothing was wrong.

He was calm.

Calm.

Calm.

A muffled voice could be heard from outside despite the room being on the seventh floor of a building. Which of course was a coincidence and not because someone was actually right outside the room….and the building.

And perhaps if Bruce tried really hard, he could convince himself was just someone singing a line out of “American Pie” and not someone talking about butterflies.

No.

Because there were no butterflies outside. Because he was fine!

Not the slightest bit upset!

At. All.

“That’s thirty-three…” Dick counted.

…

…

…

…Dammit.

Bruce sighed.

“Did she come back to the roof?”

“Actually, she never left.” Tim confirmed, not even looking up from his computer. “She stopped leaving after the last incident and has just been standing there for the past couple hours now, catching them as they come.”

A long pause.

“How…?”

“Her partner has been bringing her water and snacks. And keeping watch whenever she has to leave to hibernate or use the little bug’s room.”

Bruce groaned.

Why couldn’t it be a villain? Or a fan or stalker? He could deal with those. He dealt with them all the time.

It was the well intentioned young superheroes that he had a harder time dealing with. The ones that wanted to help but were misguided in not understanding that their help wasn’t necessary.

“Gotcha!”

“Thirty-four.” Dick droned.

…no matter how many magical butterflies implied otherwise.

“Maybe we should do what the nice Ladybug hero asked and finish up our business in Paris?” Tim suggested.

“I refuse!” Damien shouted, jumping to his feet. “This villain has made a mockery of us and it must not be allowed to stand! I will not leave until he has been caught and my sword has tasted his blood!”

“Damien, we don’t kill, remember?”

“I wouldn’t kill him.” Damien said, looking away with a pout. “Just…dismember him a bit.” He frowned, consideringly. “Maybe cut off his arms. He can’t continue villainy then, right?”

Tim sighed.

“So that’s a no on going home early then.”

They heard a noise from the roof.

“Is she leaving?” Bruce asked, trying to hide how hopeful he was.

“Nope. It’s her catboyfriend back again.” Dick replied, blithely.

Bruce sighed.

“Do you think they’re dating?”

“Dick.” Bruce warned.

“Because the city seems to be really hamming up the romantic angle between the two and it’s kinda hard to not see.” Dick continued. 

“Dick.”

“Even if it is kinda weird that they’re essentially shipping teenagers.”

“Speaking from experience there, Dickie Boy?” Jason cut in, cheekily.

“Stop it. Both of you.” Bruce ordered. “The goal of coming to Paris was supposed to be to deal with the emotional terrorism from Hawk Moth.”

“A little hard with all your emotional constipation there, B.”

Jason smirked.

“Or should I say ‘Justice Man’?”

Bruce twitched.

#ml fic #ml crossover #dc crossover #bruce wayne #batfamily #dick grayson #jason todd #damien wayne #tim drake #ml crack #ml humor #miraculous ladybug #bruce wayne is bad at feelings #jason is having too much fun #yes I'm making fun of them #I do it out of love

[julesthequirky]

The Choice: Chapter Seven

All my work is purely aimed at those 18+ so minors kindly, DNI.

Summary: You find three of your favourite characters in your home. It shouldn’t be possible, but there they are. In the flesh. How the hell did they get there? And surely there’s a way to get them back? But as you get close to each one, the thought of sending them back proves difficult to comprehend.

Characters/Pairings: Fem!Reader, Dean, Beau and Ben (Soldier Boy)

Warnings: Language, typical Soldier Boy behaviour

W/C: 1,541

A/N: As you can see (for those who saw my post earlier) I have split the chapter into two. It wouldn't look right with all the chapters around the same and this one not.

A/N 2: Also it has crossed my attention that as much as you guys love these fics, please don't upload the ficpic to another social. I know none of the images are mine and you can decide to ignore my request, but it do 'make' them with the intent of them being uploaded solely by me. So far I've seen it on the pin board app.

Pulling yourself out of your reverie and ignoring the moisture between your legs, you located Dean in the hat section. He, of course, had on a cowboy hat and posing in front of the mirror.

“Lookin’ good, cowboy.”

Dean spun round with a sheepish grin on his face.

“You really think so?”

You nodded, reaching up on tiptoe, and angled the hat better. His green eyes bore into yours, and the moisture between your legs intensified. Those butterflies stormed your belly, causing a tingling to cover your entire body. Oh Lordy. Staring into his eyes had your brain short-circuiting.

“I love Westerns.”

“I know.” You replied as you moved your hands away.

His lips curved into a smile, which didn’t help the fluttering in your stomach. The Stetson he wore blocked off the surroundings, forcing you to focus only on him. You noticed how green his eyes could get, how the freckles speckled across his cheekbones and the bridge of his nose. You noticed the 5 o’clock shadow across his jaw and chin, the slight crook in his smile and just how pink his lips were.

Caught in his gaze, your heart beat just that little bit faster, and it ached just that little bit harder for the hunter.

“What d’ya think?”

You blinked and tried pulling words from your mushy, in-love brain.

“I think you should get it.”

He nodded and took the hat off.

The rush of Boot Barn came surging back. For a moment, you’d forgotten where and what you were doing. It was silly, silly schoolgirl feelings. Feelings you should push aside, but they just managed to get in the way.

A tap on your shoulder had you whirling around. It was just Beau with the boots and a selection of jackets.

“I couldn’t decide. Could you help?”

You nodded and took the jackets from him. All three were indicative of Beau’s style in Big Sky—black denim with a faux fur lining, tanned suede with a fur collar, and a typical blue denim jacket.

“I can’t decide either. I bet they’d all look great on you though.”

Beau blushed as he smiled, exactly the way Denise had complimented Beau in the first episode of season three. Dean, Beau and Ben shared this smile, and you had Jensen to thank for that.

“Darlin’ you say any more, and I’ma go redder than a farmer’s neck in the middle of summer.”

Damn that Texan. You gave him the jackets back and reached on tippy toe for a light brown Stetson. He ducked a little bit, allowing you to place it atop his head.

“There. It suits you.”

Beau’s face and neck went redder than a farmer in the middle of summer, leaving him speechless.

You clapped him on his shoulder and turned, only to be immediately put in a dour mood. Ben leant against the store’s wall, sweet-talking a female employee. Your heart whomped in your chest, emotion making it tighten. You weren’t sure why, but it felt like rejection.

The female employee smiled in Ben’s direction, giving him all her attention, twirling hair around her finger. Jealousy stabbed at you hard. Fuck him.

Ben turned his head to see you looking. He smirked and turned his attention back to the female employee. Instead of storming over there, you turned on your heel and went straight to the cashier with Beau and Dean.

*

At Walmart, you picked up a few plain colour t-shirts, Wrangler jeans, underwear, and socks for all three. Dean picked out a few flannels, as did Beau. Ben wandered around, trying to get your attention, and the petty person inside of you gave him the cold shoulder.

“You can’t be mad at me forever.”

You said nothing, moving the cart by some graphic t-shirts. Dean placed a set of two pyjamas, a long dressing gown, and a pair of slippers into the cart. Ben still had clothes to find besides the bare basics you had picked up.

Reaching out, you picked up a t-shirt with an American Eagle with the flag behind it. Patriotic. Sure, it was stereotypical, but honestly, you had no idea what he would wear. You pulled the t-shirt off the rack and brought it to Ben’s chest. He pulled a face at being treated like a child, but he wasn’t helping. You threw the T-shirt into the cart. Ben fished it back out, annoyance etching his face, and picked up a size bigger. Right. He was jacked. You’d forgotten that with the extra muscles, he would need a size larger than Beau and Dean.

You pushed the cart further, but Ben stood in front, gripping the metal, stopping you.

“I saw you when I was talking to that woman. You were jealous.”

You scowled and pushed against him, trying to ram the cart past, but all it did was jam one of the front wheels.

“Admit it, Y/N. You were jealous.”

Your scowl deepened. Ben wasn’t going anywhere, it seemed. Not until he got the truth from you. To evade him, you went to roll the cart backwards. The metal creaked in his hands. The cart wouldn’t budge.

“We’re not going anywhere until you admit it.”

“Why? So you can feel smug with yourself?”

Ben moved from the front of the cart to you. The metal had warped where he had held it, bending under the pressure of his hands. He stood tall, clearly using his height against you. You strained your neck, looking up. A dumb smirk sat on his face.

“Maybe it will make me smug, or maybe I’m trying to prove something to myself.”

Your brow furrowed in confusion.

“Like what?”

“Doll, what makes you think I’ll tell you before you admit to me your jealousy?”

Your scowl came back.

“I wasn’t jealous.”

He snorted with laughter. “Yeah, and I’m a virgin.”

You moved the cart, but he stopped you, again putting his hand on the cart.

“Sweetcheeks, just admit it.”

It was embarrassing to admit. Your pride made you too stubborn to admit. Your hands tightened on the bar. He tested you. on purpose. For what reason? Probably to find out if it would make you jealous or not. Well, it did, and he was probably right. But you weren’t gonna tell him that.

“Just pick out some damn clothes.”

Ben laughed. That deep booming laugh and walked away, allowing you some time for yourself. He knew how to push the right buttons. He knew how to get under your skin. Was that a good thing? Your ex couldn’t even begin to scrape the surface.

You followed as Ben wandered around the clothing section of Walmart. He grabbed some grey sweatpants and undershirt tank tops and threw them into the cart.

“You’re such an old man…” You muttered.

Ben turned around, throwing you a dirty look. Seems he didn’t appreciate that comment. Who wore undershirts in this day and age? Nobody you knew, that was for sure. He had only picked out a handful of clothes. Guess he didn’t need much.

You found Dean and Beau trying on boots. They were laughing together, doing impressions of someone. You didn’t get it until Dean lowered his voice, made himself look all serious and barked out:

“I fart the star spangled banner!”

Of course, it was a perfect imitation. Beau collapsed with a fit of laughter. Behind you, however, was another matter. You turned and collided with Ben. He huffed and snorted, nostrils flaring like a bull preparing to charge. You pressed your hand to his chest. Fuck, it was hot.

“Fuck you, you bendy legged fuckface!”

He stepped forward, forcing you back. You pressed a hand to his chest again.

“Please, Ben. He was only messing. He didn’t mean anything by it.”

Ben huffed, hands curled into tight fists. He didn’t care that he was in public, but you did. He took another step closer, again forcing you to step back.

“Watch your mouth.” Ben warned and walked off, presumably to cool off.

You stared after him, calling his name until you could no longer see him. It frustrated you at how sensitive the Supe was. It seemed he could give it but couldn’t take it.

“Jeez, he can’t take a joke, can he?”

You swiped a hand down your face and turned to Dean and Beau.

“Y’know, I was kinda hoping that since you both have a nice friendship thing going, that Ben would join in and have the same.”

Beau sat on the stool, looked at Dean and then at you.

“Darlin’…”

Honestly, you didn’t wanna hear it.

“Tell me you were only messing around, D?”

Dean sighed.

“Yeah, I was just messing around.”

But from his tone, you could tell he was lying. An array of emotions pained you, but disappointment was the biggest one that fatigued you. You had expected better of him and Beau.

“I’m gonna go look for him.”

Dean stood, moving the shoebox out of his way, before stepping to you.

“Y/N, c’mon…I was only messing around.”

“Oh, yeah? Who else did you impersonate? Or was it only Ben?”

“He does a really good Yogi bear impression.” Beau piped up, not helping at all.

“I know!” You snapped, storming off.

Tags: @yvonneeeee, @curlycarley, @angelbabyyy99, @sassy-pelican, @k-slla, @deans-spinster-witch, @ashdoctor, @eretsupremacy89, @fanfic-n-tabulous, @deans-number-one-fan, @afro-hispwriter, @justjensenandhisalteregos, @tiredstrangerr, @zemosdarling228.

#The Choice #julesthequirky's fics #spn fanfic #reader insert #dean winchester #soldier boy #soldier boy fanfiction #soldier boy x you #soldier boy x y/n #the boys #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester fanfiction #dean x reader #dean winchester x you #dean winchester x female!reader #soldier boy x reader #beau arlen x you #beau arlen x reader #beau arlen x female reader #big sky #beau arlen #crossover fic

[sayakasnonsense]

“Love again, Fall again.”

Pairing: kashimo hajime x reader

Storyline: kashimo hajime reminisces about his past love, not knowing she was reincarnated and does the same. as they meet each other unknowingly and fall back in love, they deal with crippling guilt from their past lives

Note: no pun for today! this idea suddenly hit me while I was listening to Love Again by Ashwarya! Lovely song, go check it out!

xoxo, sayaka.sy

“thought that I would never feel it now.

the things that I had left behind somehow”

Kashimo Hajime is a lonely soul. A being that has endured far more loneliness and heartache than a human should. Somehow… his eyes soften when they lay eyes on you. A faint warm feeling stretches in his stomach, a smile creeping onto his face. His mind berates him for it: how dare he let his guard down for such foolish endeavours, after all… it only ends with tragedy. But… the butterflies don’t go away, in fact… they only worsen. It had been years… centuries even… since he’d felt this enamoured with someone. A strange, strange feeling, like memories he’d tried so hard to lock away, leave behind and abandon.

“so how do I see you now?

and why do I feel you now?”

You gaze into the ocean, your feet tickled by the soft waves lapping at your toes. A long, long time ago… you had been here with… with someone you considered your light, your other half, the Romeo to your Juliet. Your heart sinks… you shouldn’t be thinking about this. You had a new life now. A soft movement startles you out of your thoughts. Kashimo Hajime sits down next to you silently, eyes never meeting yours, but when they do… sparks fly, fireworks shoot through your heart. This… should be impossible, how, just how was this happening… your heart was locked away, an ancient object never to be tampered with. And why, just why did you like Kashimo Hajime so much? You two felt like you were magically connected by the red string of fate.

“i play a song it makes me start to think

that I’m ready to start reminiscing this”

Kashimo Hajime hates this. The nagging feeling of guilt and regret. He should have been there for her, he should have loved her harder, he should have told her how much he loved her. But all those were past tense now, this was the present. He couldn’t run away from his heartbreak forever. Stop being a coward, he tells himself, man up and face it, face Her.

“all the memories are failed attempts

to try and win each other’s hearts all over again.”

You steal a glance at Kashimo Hajime, ignoring the guilt in your heart as you take his hand, stepping out of the boat. The night sky is painted a beautiful blue, the moon shining in the distance. A pang of pain shoots through your heart as your skin touches. You sigh, stepping out yourself and smiling apologetically at him. All the attempts you two made at each other were foiled every single time, all because of you.

“i don’t want to run too fast and catch myself slipping, back into it

can’t be feeling charged again, but for my name, my heart, you’re taking on me”

But like Romeo and Juliet, not every love story ends well.

#hajime kashimo #hajime kashimo x reader #jjk kashimo #hajime kashimo angst #jjk angst #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu sorcerer #kashimo hajime #angst #jjk #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk x y/n #gojou satoru x reader #gojo x reader #gojo satoru #nanami kento #nanami x reader #geto x reader #toji x reader

[saradika]

— the knight and her lady

knight!fennec shand x princess!reader

rated E - 3.7k

prompts - “can I kiss you?” & fairytale au

tags: medieval/fairytale au, soft sapphic romance, use of weapons in a competition, power dynamic (princess & knight), forbidden love, soft!dom Fen & inexperienced reader, kissing, fingering, implied squirting, oral sex

written for @flightlessangelwings’s Pride Challenge!

You shouldn’t know how to take her apart. It’s not proper, not at your station. If anyone found out, rumors would spread like wildfire. You’d surely be sent home - separated from her.

But your fingers move easily - plucking at buckles and straps. Piece by piece, as fluidly as she had put you together this morning.

(Or - You steal away to your knight, to celebrate a spectacularly-won archery tournament.)

You supposed you should be paying more attention to your host - but you can’t tear your eyes away from the knight in front of you.

The sun glinting off her forge-blackened armor, her movements still fluid even with the extra weight of the steel. Joining the long row of competitions, an ornate longbow slung across her back.

It’s been a long day. A good day - the tournament bringing in visitors for miles. Filling the wooden seats and air with laughter and music. With roasting meat and summery, fruity mead.

But still, you watch.

Fingers clasped, pressed on a knee that bounces with anticipation.

You don’t think he minds. The singularity of your attention, content to sit in near-silence next to you. A month ago you would’ve been ashamed at yourself - ignoring the King like this - but at the moment, you can’t bring yourself to care.

If he had minded, you think that he wouldn’t have taken the flower you had clutched so tightly to your chest. Plucked from the woven crown of greenery and flora around your head, handmade for today.

Telling you he’d “get this where it needed to go” in those few moments before the first event began.

It’s the last event of the afternoon, now - the morning filled with rounds of jousting, the clash of hand-to-hand combat.

You had worried she’d entered both - had felt the butterflies in your stomach when the quiet, silver knight she was seen with so often with took to the field.

But he had been alone. And had been victorious, in the end. A flurry of black slashes with his sword had seen to that.

Part of you wondered if she had attended, if that still would have been true.

The shrill sound of a whistle cuts through the air, as the participants line up. The wave of a green and gold banner as the first arrows fly.

There's the loosening of strings - arrowing flying in arcs towards the target mounds, with their painted red centers. Several falling short, the feathers quivering in the wind, most piercing through cloth and earth within the neat rings.

Scores called out as competitors are eliminated, the judges marking notes down on their scrolls. Those removed make their way to the border, to call out and heckle their friends with the rest of the crowd.

Ser Shand remains for this round, and then the next.

You watch with bated breath as her fingers crook around the string as each round passes. Thinking about last night and the ones before.

A slow, building boldness of wandering mouth and fingers. Stroking over silk and steel, soft sounds swallowed by the night.

Each release sends an arrow flying neatly down the field, landing in the red middle circle again and again. Again and again, until there were only two competitors left on the field.

The suspense was palpable, that teasing chatter dwindling down to nothing. The fabled ‘assassin-turned-knight’ competing with the up-and-coming Lord Calican - this would-be duel that would be spoken about for weeks after.

You had utmost faith in your knight, but you couldn't help the worry as the wind rustled your skirts, tugged at your crown of flowers. Fingers reaching up to pull it down a little tighter, just as the flag waves again.

The crowd holds their breath.

They fire at the same time.

There's an uproar, as the arrows hit. The judges racing to look, Lord Calican turning on Ser Shand. A pointing finger at the mounds, down at her feet. Even from here you can see the arch of her brow, rising in disbelief.

You don't even notice the way your hand drifted down, curling in the soft green velvet of the King's sleeve. Only when his gloved hand comes down to pat against yours, do you realize - letting go quickly and sheepishly.

The small smile he sends your way is kind. As is his answer, as he replies to the advisor next to him - asking if he should step in.

"My knight is not so easily bested." The King boasts, with a dismissive wave of his hand, "Here, just watch."

You can just make out the argument. It's clear that her arrow flew straight and true, hitting dead center. His off, just a hair lower on his own target.

Rounding on her to claim that she had taken a step closer while firing - had been out of bounds.

There's a knowing and condescending smile, as he turns red in the face with argumentative anger. Leaving him mid-rant to move a handful of meters back. Close to the edge of the field, before she stops.

Turning - taking barely a second to fit an arrow, aim, and fire.

It flies down the field in silence.

Striking where her first had landed, splintering it down the middle.

The crowd explodes. Shouting and cheering as they all decide the winner on their own. Your voice joins theirs as you find yourself leaping to your feet, leaning against the tall rail in front of you.

Excitement and joy and something else, something honey-sweet swirls in your stomach. Your heart thudding in your chest as you see her turn - finding your eyes in the crowd.

The small smile and wink sent your way.

Striking her target, one last time.

You sneak into the tents, after.

Scattered across the open field, gathered around small campfires. It would be easier to travel back the mile or so into the city, but it was a long-held tradition to stay on the grounds the night before a tournament.

Easier to group up, to celebrate. Less mess to clean when playful song and teasing turned into drunken brawls between sore-losing, mead-filled competitors.

Lifting the crimson flap of the tent emblazoned with her symbol. Large for its size - a nest of pillows and a bedroll tucked off to the side, upon the thick carpet of grass. A wide bench on the far wall, one edge littered with fletching supplies. Two chairs and a sturdy table standing on a coarsely-woven rug.

She's there - still clad in that dark armor. Plucking the archery gloves from her fingers in a way that has your eyes dropping down to her hands again. Watching as they appear from behind the leather, as you hover just inside.

Lingering, until her eyes are lifting. A smile coming then, a flash of pretty teeth between the curve of her lips.

You go to her, letting the flap fall behind you. The tent well-light in the afternoon sun, filtering in pretty shades of red and gold.

“You were incredible.” You tell her, almost shyly. The way you had been watching had felt almost vouyeristic, but maybe that was just the winding of your thoughts, the slow sweep of your eyes.

“I could not lose, with your favor.” Fennec’s fingers work at her armor. Loosening her chestplate enough to dip inside, draw out the rose from where it nestled between her breasts.

Plucked so carefully from your woven crown, the color tipping from pink towards purple. It spins between her fingertips, the hidden meaning not at all lost on her.

“You know…” Her head tilts, then - with the sly curl of a smile, “In some tournaments, the victor is awarded a prize.”

It still stuns you, even though she gives them to you freely.

But you’re familiar with the customs. A favor bestowed, a bag of coin awarded.

“What would you ask for?” You question with a little furrow of your brow - taking those few steps, until you’re reaching the edge of the rug.

“Perhaps a kiss from a fair maiden?” She taps her chin thoughtfully, though her eyes never leave your face. Asking it like a question, though you’re sure she’s been planning this.

Sending up a flutter in your stomach, your heart kicking up a beat.

“Is that all you desire?” You own question comes out breathless, as she steps closer.

Her smile is enigmatic - her rose set down carefully on the table. Your tongue peeking out to wet your lips, eyes dropping to the pretty curve of hers.

Your eyes start to drift shut, the anticipation curling sweetly in your stomach.

But it doesn’t come - the press of her lips. The swipe of a tongue. Instead, there’s the pressure of her fingers ghosting against your hips, her voice in your ear.

“Mm. I didn’t say where, sweetness.”

Her voice is low, throaty. It sends a little shiver up your spine, as her innuendo sinks in. It had your eyes opening, surprise lingering in the pretty part of your lips.

“Your face,” She laughs, but not unkindly. “You are too sweet, little bird.”

Her touch lifts then, fingers catching your chin and tilting it towards her face.

Lips pressing against your cheek, feather-light. Then your jaw, the soft spot under your ear as you melt against her.

“Can I kiss you, princess?” She husks, “Would you let me take what is mine?”

In your head, you answer. An eager affirmative that comes out as a soft whine, instead. Another low, rasping laugh before her mouth is pressing to yours, finally giving you what you need.

Your fingers clench around steel, the heavy leather of her belt. She swallows your sigh, a soft curl of her lips in a hidden smile before she’s tasting you, licking into your mouth.

There had been shock, before - you won’t deny that. Heat rising to your cheeks at her words, so very public.

She loved your sweetness, the arch of your brows, the little intake of air. So very different than the rough and tumble of the other knights and soldiers.

But it didn’t mean you didn’t know. That you didn’t want.

A little fire that you’ve kindled in your belly, all day. The spark starting as she snuck up from the field to find you that morning - fingers brushing over your waist, the curves of your breasts as she helped you lace up the back of your dress.

“Such a pretty thing,” She had cooed, smoothing down the layers of fabric, the spray of stars embroidered across your skirts.

You had thought she meant the dress - until you caught her gaze in the mirror you were facing.

It was a pretty sight - her arms around you. You were sure your thoughts had reflected hers, in that moment.

How easy it would be to slip a hand beneath your skirts - to loosen the laces of your chemise. A thrill has thrummed in your veins, until a knock had sounded at the heavy wooden door.

Mourning the proximity, as she had stepped away.

It makes you want to take her little tease, twist it into something tangible. Pulling back from the warm press of her mouth to murmur a question against her neck.

“Can I kiss you, too?” Your lips brush her neck, that sliver of skin above the cold iron of her gorget.

You can feel the hum of her laugh, as her chin tips up to give you more room, “I’d say you are, princess.”

The way she sighs the title makes you not despise it. No simpering in her tone, nothing to remind you of your duties and promises that you want nothing more than to break.

It has your mouth moving. Pressing kisses to her armor, leaving the ghost of your breath against the cold, dark iron.

A hitch in her breath as you begin to lower yourself, reaching the curve were the metal is shaped at her chest. Gathering your skirts in one hand as you reach the bottom of her cuirass.

Her fingers are twisted in the fabric at your shoulders - eyes dark when you glance up. Unable to resist the pull of you on your knees for her, out in this field, stolen away in her tent.

A second, as she blinks - coming back to herself.

“Your dress, little bird-” She protests, knowing how much you had been looking forward to wearing it.

It feels like nothing now. Not even wrinkles or the threat of dirt could sway you.

Your face tips up as the want reflects in your own eyes, “Please. I want to. I’ve thought about it, I-”

You’ve dreamed about it. Tasting her more than just the slip of your fingers against your tongue. Not doing so before because she’s never asked, and you’ve been too shy to.

Wondering if it would be something she’d want - not knowing how to navigate this path with someone who’s bound to you in such a way that made desire and duty so confusing.

Your words are enough. A sharp exhale of breath as she takes a step backwards, the spread of her thighs as she lowers herself to that wooden bench.

It takes no time for you to fit between them. A small glance over your shoulder to make sure the tent flap is closed, before your fingers are slipping beneath her armor.

“I’ll keep watch, sweetness.” She husks, leaning back to let you work, “Don’t you worry.”

You shouldn’t know how to take her apart. It’s not proper, not at your station. If anyone found out, rumors would spread like wildfire. You’d surely be sent home - separated from her.

But your fingers move easily - plucking at buckles and straps. Piece by piece, as fluidly as she had put you together this morning.

Revealing the dyed linen of her surcoat - black and edged with red embroidery. Her cuirass set gently against the edge of the bench as her hips raise enough that you can tug down her trousers, letting them pool around her ankles.

She’s unashamed, thighs parted for you. Hands brace on the bench - watching you as your eyes drift down to where only your fingers have been, in the dark.

Thrilled at the way she glistens, that you did that yourself. Nerves and desire twisting and fluttering in your stomach like the fletching on the arrows, before.

Trying to thinking about when she’s kissed you, like this. How every touch and brush of her tongue brought pleasure you had never known. Thinking that you could do that, that you wanted to - for her.

She murmurs your name as you move. A soft kiss to her center, letting your tongue peek between your lips. Dragging against her slit, tasting the sweet tang of her cunt, unable to help groaning into her as your hand comes to wrap around her calf.

Getting more bold, with each of her shaky breaths. Listening and learning each little sound, determined to do well for her.

Finding the hard, sensitive bud beneath the dark curls - feeling the pinch of her fingers against your shoulder when your tongue flattens against it.

An eager shift forward, pressing yourself further against her. Eyes closing when a moan buzzes in her throat, hands brushing your cheeks, the hinge of your jaw. Closing around the crown, bruising the petals with the force of her fingers.

“Stars, sweet girl,” She sighs, a gentle buck of her hips as she urges you, “Look at you, on your knees. You look so pretty, you know that?”

It shoots through you, as you clench around nothing. Unable to help squirming as your fingers trace along her thigh, up and then up.

A look up when she’s silent, only to see the clench of her jaw as she holds her sounds back. Trying to keep quiet, in this open field.

Then you hear it, muffled behind a hand, as your finger sink in. This part you know - eyes closing again as your fingers crook and curl.

Her thighs closing sharply around your shoulders when your lips return to her, a soft suck against her clit.

Tightening around you as her hips start to move, as she tugs you against her. Unable to help the panting, groaning praise.

“Right there, gods - just like that. Yes, my love, yes-”

Your eyes open just in time to watch her fall apart. Tongue pressed against the pulse of her clit as she grips your fingers, coating them with her release.

A moan pulled from her throat, high before she catches it. Her chest heaving as your fingers ease from her when she relaxes, slipping into your mouth before your tongue dips inside her.

Tasting the salty musk of your triumph, thinking you understand in this moment the way she enjoys having you beneath her.

Knowing that you’ll never want to stop, now that you’ve had a taste.

Blinking up at her as she smiles, a small shake of her head.

“Just look at you, pretty girl.”

Her thumb swipes over the slick that’s smeared across your lips, your chin. Pressing it against your bottom lip until they part - cleaning her from her fingers.

Disheveled and eyes blown wide with lust, tasting like her as she stands - swiftly tugging up her trousers before her hand is tucking under your elbow.

Pulling you to your feet as you frown, before she’s whisking you over to her bedroll. Kissing you, her tongue delving into your mouth as she lowers you down onto the pile of pillows.

“Can’t wait to touch you, sweetness.” Her voice is syrupy smooth, low in your ear, “You get so wet from me looking just at you. I bet you are soaked from eating my cunt.”

It makes you tremble, a heat rising in your cheeks at her crude words. A little laugh as she does just like you had dreamed about before.

A hand tucks behind your head as she kisses you. Stroking your tongue as her fingers work at your bodice. Breaking the kiss, only to wrap her lips around a tight nipple, flicking her tongue against it.

Your moan is loud, wanton. Unable to hold yourself back, as she had. She shoot you a look of warning, shushes you before kissing across your chest.

Grateful for her touches, as your desire thuds between your thighs. Completely eclipsing that feeling from before, making it feel no more than a flutter.

Unable to compare to the way you need her, now.

There’s a sweet satisfaction that slices through you, when she dips beneath your smallclothes. The moan into your shoulder as she hovers over you, when she realizes just how right she was.

How the soft cotton is soaked through. How her fingers meet slick skin beneath, no resistance as she immediately sinks two fingers inside.

You gasp at the stretch, teeth biting down on a whine. Unable to see anything other than the bare curves of your breaths, your skirts piled high.

But she leans down to look, a soft purr to her voice, “Oh princess. My needy little thing.”

Telling you how pretty you look with her fingers in you, as her thumb presses against your clit. Your eyes fixed on the teeth that sink into her lip, as she tugs down the cotton to bare you fully.

Watching the shine of her fingers as they pump into you. You’d be embarrassed at how wet you are, how swiftly she builds you up and up, if you hadn’t been waiting for her touch for so long.

A soft cry when her mouth returns to your breasts, the ache as she makes a mark that will be hidden by your bodice. Something just for her - later, before she’s tasting herself on your tongue again.

Swallowing your gasps as you squirm, her fingers pounding and crooking against a place that steals your breath. Pinning you down with a thigh that straddles yours.

Her own soft growls as she sees you start to come undone - the glazed look in your eyes. Remembering how sweet and eager you were for her - wanting to return that feeling a million times over.

“Want to make you come, princess.” Her mouth is against your ear, as your hands fist in her surcoat, “Let me feel you, sweet thing.”

Fennec’s elbow presses into the bedroll as she leans over you. Her fingers keeping their pace as your vision grows hazy. Your senses filled with her and only her, as she presses kiss after kiss to your trembling lips.

Humming low in her throat as your fingers pinch harder into the cloth. A tiny, wrung-out gasp of her name, as something builds and builds - pushing you past a point you didn’t know you had.

And then, it snaps. Pleasure and relief pounds in your veins, the thud of your heart drowning out the sounds of your cries as she catches them with her mouth.

Her fingers unrelenting, dripping with you as she fucks you through the tight pulses of pleasure. Her palm slapping against slick skin as she draws it out, until your fingers untwine. Reaching down to catch her hand, unable to take it any longer.

Thoroughly worn out, overcome with your pleasure. Unable to do more than press a hand against your face as she leans over to look at the mess you made.

Another soft groan at her cat-like smile - fingers tracing against your damp thighs as she revels in this new discovery.

“Gods. I can’t wait to watch you do that again tonight.”

Kissing away your embarrassment, with soft encouragement peppered between each press of her lips. How it slowly fades as she wraps herself up with you, curled together on her bedroll.

Grateful for the way she had pulled your skirts up and out of the way - always looking out for you. Watching over you as you doze, the red and gold speckles of sunlight warm against your face.

It’s easy to forget then, about your worries. Wondering how this story between you would end. How this love that had blossomed between you could ever fully flourish in the sun.

Instead, it’s just a glorious day. An evening to bask in, and celebrate.

Staying sleepy and content until her name is called, and she’s throwing you a look - quickly helping you lace your bodice up. Smoothing down her own clothes while she steps outside.

Coming back with her arms laden with gifts - a sack of gold, a basket of fresh fruit. A heavy bottle of spotchka, tucked under her arm.

“My winnings,” She smiles, with a happy lilt to her voice, “And here I thought I’d already had them.”

You know that right now, your smile mirrors hers.

As she leans down to kiss you, once again.

purple roses can symbolize love at first sight! it can also mean adoration and fascination with someone (& used the term ser in a very ‘ser brienne of tarth’ sort of way)

and lastly - thank you Jey, for hosting this challenge! Such an awesome idea, I was excited for the chance to contribute a fic. 💖

#fawpride2023 #fennec shand x reader #fennec shand x you #fennec shand x f!reader #fennec shand

[soulofapatrick]

Forbidden Fruit - Joel Miller x Reader

Summary: Your dad’s best friend, Joel, saves you at the bar and it leads to more than either of you expected

Words: 3.4k 

Warnings: creepy guy; Joel punching someone 

Notes: Forbidden Fruit Series Masterlist

Y/N’s POV 

I knew I shouldn’t have come out tonight but it was Daisy’s birthday and I promised her I’d be here. As I slide out of the booth to get my second drink of the night I can’t help but feel a little out of place, watching them all giggling and throwing back shots like it’s water, their faces flushed from alcohol and slurring their words. I arrived late so I missed the pre-drinks which I don’t mind as I’m not much of a drinker, the sight of my weird friend group making me shake my head fondly when I make my way to the bar. 

As I order a cider, I lean against the bar and take a moment to survey the scene. The dimly lit bar is bustling with people, all talking and laughing over the sound of the jukebox in the corner. This place is very different from my usual surroundings so it’s a little overwhelming, especially when a hand touches my arm and the strong scent of beer fills my senses. 

“Hey, there beautiful.” The voice is slurred and every muscle in my body tenses as my fight or flight kicks in as this random stranger leans on the bar in front of me. My cider arrives so I take a quick sip of it, feeling a mixture of fear and annoyance as I try to ignore him. He doesn’t take my silence as a hint, even when I pull my arm away from his touch, “Playing hard to get?” His tone is quickly becoming aggressive and I’m looking around for help but no one seems to be paying enough attention to us to see how uncomfortable I am. I’m feeling trapped, like a deer in headlights as he continues to make his unwanted advances, a sense of panic rising within me. 

“Please leave me alone,” I speak finally, meeting his gaze and instantly regretting it when I realise how close he is to me. He leans closer, his face a mere few inches from mine and his breath smells sour and I can’t help but scrunch my nose in disgust. 

The man seems undeterred by my request, in fact, he seems to take it as a challenge as he leans even closer, breath damp and gross against my neck as he whispers a pick-up line in my ear, making my skin crawl, "My couch pulls out but I don’t.” I’m taking a big step back, my back hitting a familiar chest, the smell of woodsy musk mixed with burnt coffee and something citrusy has me relaxing. 

I let out a breath I didn’t realise I was holding when Joe’s strong and muscular are wraps around my waist, pulling me closer to him. I feel so safe and protected, knowing that nothing can harm me with Joel around. His voice is low and dangerous as he speaks, breath ghosting my neck and leaving a trail of goosebumps over the skin. “She said to leave her alone.” 

“Shut up grandpa, she’s mine, I saw her first.” The guy sneers back, his sweaty hand gripping my wrist almost painfully. Joel’s grip tightens around my waist and I can feel the tension in his body as he speaks again, voice even lower and even more dangerous than before. 

“Let. Her. Go.” But, of course, the guy doesn’t listen and before I can even react the guy is on the floor, Joel standing above him with his chest heaving and hand still raised. The guy's grip on my hand is gone and I’m placing a gentle hand on Joel’s strong forearm making him turn his head  to see me, guilt filling those honey eyes as he lowers his fist, “Sorry sweet girl.” He’s turning around to face me properly, calloused hand moving to cup my jaw and thumb caressing my cheek softly, sending a flurry of butterflies through me. 

Joel is my dad’s best friend and seeing him so hot and with a light sheen of sweat across his skin has me leaning into his touch. He’s such a DILF and I can see my friend group watching us, giggling behind their hands and sharing glances as they look Joel up and down like he’s a slab of meat. I don’t blame them really as Joel is so fucking fine. 

He’s a ruggedly handsome man with dark and loose curls, warm honey eyes, and a strong jawline. There’s a thick, bushy beard that covers his entire jawline and chin. It's well-groomed and appears to be trimmed with a bit of length. The beard is dark brown, matching the hair on his head, and has a slightly rough texture to it, only adding to his rugged charm. His physique has featured in a lot of my late-night fantasies but who can blame me when I see him shirtless almost every day during summer? Being my dad’s best friend I get to see him almost every day and he and his younger brother and daughter are always having dinner with me and Dad. He’s muscular and chiselled except for his tummy that you can see ever so slightly against his teeshirt but it just adds to his appeal, taking some of the hard lines from him. His muscles ripple and flex when he moves and his thighs are thick, jeans hugging his body in such a way that leaves very little to the imagination. 

“Your friends are ogling sweetheart.” There’s a smirk on his lips, eyes crinkling slightly with amusement and suddenly I’m aware of how close he is to me, my mouth drying up as my eyes focus on the way he wets his bottom lip with his tongue, a small sound escaping me that he definitely hears as he’s moving closer. 

“Can you blame them?” I choke out, heats flushing a little, “You are really good-looking.” 

“You think I’m good looking hmmm?” He’s ducking his head, nose bumping mine as he leaves no space between us, his firm body pressing against mine and his other hand gripping my hip. I can feel my heart racing as his lips press against mine, stealing all the air from my lungs. His kiss is firm, yet gentle, and I can feel the warmth of his lips against mine, tasting the beer on them adding to my heightened senses. His hand on my hip leaves me feeling secure and wanted all at once, his other hand moving from my jaw to my hair. 

My friends are hollering in the background but their voices sound distant as I lose myself in the kiss. It feels like we’re the only two people in the room like time has slowed down for us. I’m acutely aware of every sensation - the way his lips move against mine, the feel of his stubble grazing my skin and the heat of his body against mine as he presses my back in the bar. It’s a long and slow kiss that leaves me feeling dizzy and breathless when he pulls away, desire in his eyes and something else. 

“Was that okay sweet girl?” His voice is low and gravelly, sending shivers down my spine as he speaks. His tone is both commanding and tender, conveying a sense of strength and vulnerability. It's a tone that exudes confidence and experience, yet also carries a hint of hesitation as if he's not quite sure how I will respond. As his hand moves from my hair back to my neck, his thumb rubbing my jaw, I can feel the roughness of his calloused skin against the softness of my skin. It's a touch that's both gentle and possessive, and it makes me feel like I'm exactly where I'm supposed to be.

I just nod, still trying to catch my breath, “Y-yeah, that was more than okay.” I manage to say, my voice a little shaky. I can feel my cheeks flush as I meet his gaze, eyes flickering over his handsome face and settling on his beard. It’s scruffy and unkempt but somehow still suits him perfectly. I’m reaching up and scratching my fingers through it lightly without thinking, feeling the coarse hair under my fingertips, “I like your beard.” I murmur, voice barely above a whisper.

He chuckles softly, a low rumble in his chest that I can feel against my own, “Yeah? I was thinking of shaving it off actually.” There’s amusement in his tone 

I’m shaking my head, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips, “No, don’t! I like it. It makes you look… rugged.” 

His smile morphs into a grin, eyes sparking with amusement, one eyebrow raised, “Rugged, huh? I’ll have to remember that.” I just hum in response, eyes flickering to the guy still passed out a few bar stools away and Joel follows my gaze, his hands tightening on my hips, “You want me to take you home sweet girl?” 

“Not home.” I shake my head, knowing my dad would never let me go out again if he finds out what happened, “Can I come to yours?”

Joel’s nodding, a small smirk on his lips, “Sure thing, baby doll.” He’s letting go of my hip to interlock our fingers and I’m being led back over to my friends who are staring in almost disbelief at me and Joel. Of course, Daisy has no filter being this drunk, jumping up and pulling me into an unsteady hug that rips my hand from Joel’s. She smells like alcohol and I feel back leaving her but she doesn’t seem to mind, whispering in my ear that I need to tell her everything about how the neighbourhood DILF is in bed. It has me spluttering a choked laugh as she pulls away, too drunk to know she’s not whispering but yelling. Then she’s pushing me towards Clemmie, Sadie, and Hazel who all hug me goodbye and whisper-shout variations of the same thing Daisy said before I’m moving back to Joel’s side and taking his hand again. 

“Neighbourhood DILF?” Joel’s asking once we get outside, the night air hitting me and making me shiver a little, “So, you gonna tell me what a DILF is sweet girl?”

“I’d rather not.” I’m choking out, blushing a little as he squeezes my hand, sending me a quizzical look as he tugs me lightly in the direction of his car. He unlocks the doors and opens the passenger side for me, gesturing for me to get in and I think my heart swells as he is ever the gentleman as I slide in, feeling somewhat self-conscious under his gaze. He’s studying me for a moment before closing the door and walking around the driver's side. He gets in the driver's side, starts the car, and pulls out of the parking lot, and I can’t help but feel a sense of nervousness and excitement. I kissed Joel, my dad’s best friend, and I’m going to be sleeping over at his. I’ve stayed at his plenty of times but this time feels a little different as Joel’s hand moves to settle on my thigh as he drives, an act that seems to be done subconsciously but has butterflies erupting in my stomach. 

I’m glancing down at his hand, feeling the head of his touch through the fabric of my jeans, and then back up at him, my heart pounding in my chest. I still can’t quite believe this is happening, that I’m in Joel’s car and that he’s touching me like this. It’s all so surreal but at the same time feels so damn right as we sit in comfortable silence for a while. The only sound is the hum of the engine and the occasional shift of gears and I’m acutely aware of Joel’s fingers flexing against my skin every so often, both exhilarating and nerve-wracking. 

Finally, we pull up to Joel’s house and he’s switching the engine off before turning to me in his seat, gaze intense, “So, what’s a DILF?” 

“No, nope, not-“ His large hand grips my wrist before I can move to open the car door, curiosity on his face as he sees the blush and shyness on mine, those enthralling eyes narrowing as he raises an eyebrow and I’m blurting it our, “Dad I’d Like to Fuck.” 

He lets out a spluttered sound before suddenly I’m being lifted over the seats and straight onto his lap, my legs settling on either side of his thick thighs as he grips my jaw in his large and calloused hands, asking in a low and husky tone, “Do you think I’m a DILF?” 

“Have done for quite a while now.” My hand slams over my mouth in surprise at how easily that slipped out and he’s grinning like the cat that got the cream, prying my hand from my mouth. He’s grinning as he pulls me closer to him, lips brushing mine teasingly before he kisses me properly. His lips move against mine, teasing and coaxing, before deepening the kiss. His other hand is on my lower back, slipping under my sweater to splay across my skin as he pulls me closer to him and his tongue slides into my mouth, exploring and tasting every inch. The car is filled with the sounds of kissing and heavy breaths as he leaves me breathless. 

He’s pulling away with a smirk, “Let’s not rush this sweet girl,” I can feel the heat rising as I nod, trying to catch my breath as my fingers play with the soft tufts of hair at the nape of his neck. My eyes fall back to his lips, wetting my own with my tongue as I know that now I’ve had a taste I’m not gonna be able to not kiss him and he notices, a light rumble of a laugh in his chest as he breathes out, “One more kiss.” Before he’s tangling a hand in my hair and pulling me into an almost bruising kiss. It’s intense and passionate, with Joel's tongue expertly exploring every inch of my mouth while his hand remains tangled in my hair, pulling me closer to him. I can feel the heat between us, our bodies pressed tightly together, and my hands roaming over his muscular shoulders and chest. It's a moment of pure desire, and I feel myself getting lost in the sensation of his touch. 

When we finally break apart, gasping for breath, Joel opens the driver's door and helps me off his lap and out of the car before following suit. His hand finds the back pocket of my jeans as he locks his car behind us and leads me to his front door, unlocking it and leading me inside. As soon as we step inside, Joel kicks off his shoes and I do the same before he’s pulling me into another kiss. This time, it’s slower and more tender, and I can feel myself melting into his embrace. His hands sliding down my back and settling on my hips, pulling me closer to him as our tongues dance together in a passionate tango.

 A soft sound leaves my throat when he breaks the kiss, looking at me with such an intensity that I feel my knees go weak, ‘God, you’re so beautiful. What would your daddy think if he found out you were here with me like this?” He murmurs, voice low and husky. My cheeks flush at the thought of it all and he’s leading me to the living room where he settles on the couch and suddenly I’m in his lap again, “Can’t get enough of you, sweet girl,” His forehead rests against mine and his eyes slip shut as if he’s fighting something, “This is so wrong, you’re best friends little girl-“ 

“I’m twenty-four.” I protest but he runs his thumb over my bottom lip, silencing me, and my breath hitches. 

“And I’m thirty-eight, ” He moves his mouth to my neck, body betraying his mind, “That’s fourteen years doll.” 

“Joel,” I grab his face and make him look at me, feeling the coarse hair of his beard under my palms and make sure his honey eyes are on mine before I speak, his hand still gripping my jaw and thumb close to my lip, “I am a grown adult who can make my own decisions and I have like your for forever.” 

Joel’s expression softens at my words and he leans in to place a soft kiss on my lips, free arm moving to wrap around my waist, “I know sweet girl,” He murmurs, “But I can’t help but feel like I’m taking advantage of you.” 

I’m shaking my head, caressing his cheek and he leans into the touch, “You’re not,” I reassure him, “I want this too, Joel. I want you.” He smiles at me, his eyes alight with something I can’t quite decipher, before he’s leaning in to capture my lips in another soft kiss. The lust and desire fading into something sweeter and more caring. It’s tender and slow, his lips moving gently against mine. His hand still cradles my jaw and I can feel the rough pad of his thumb brushing over my cheek. It’s a kiss that speaks of deeper feelings and emotions, a connection between two people who have known each other for a long time. The heat and passion of earlier are replaced with a softer, more intimate feeling and I can feel myself melting into him as we kiss. 

Joel’s pulling away from the embrace, “Come on, it’s late.” His voice is soft as he stands, letting me slip to my feet and he’s capturing my hand in his before he’s tugging me towards the stairs. As we walk, I can feel my heart racing with anticipation and nervousness, not sure of what’s gonna happen next when he hit the landing. He’s turning to me, “The spare room is made up for you…” His voice trails off when h feels how tightly I’m gripping his hand and how hesitant I am to let go of him, “Alright, you can stay with me, sweet girl. Anything you’re comfortable with.” 

Relieved, I’m nodding and follow Joel to his room, feeling a rush of excitement at the thought of sleeping in the same bed as him. He’s gesturing for me to sit on the edge of his bed as he rummages through his drawers, searching for something before coming back over with a teeshirt for me. He silently moves back to the other side of the room to strip down to his boxers and he keeps his back to me while I shimmy off my jeans, sweater, and bra before pulling on the shirt he gave me. It smells of him: burnt coffee mixed with his woodsy cologne and something citrusy like oranges and it’s intoxicating. 

Joel’s crawling into bed, the mattress dipping under his weight as he reaches over to wrap those strong arms around me and yank me onto the sofa mattress beside him with a shriek of surprise. The heat from his bare skin seeps through the fabric of his shirt and his chest hair tickles my cheek as he nuzzles his nose into the crook of my neck. I can feel the tension in his body as he pulls me closer, almost as if he’s holding on for dear life and I just snuggle closer to him despite the worry building up in my chest that he’ll wake up with the regret of all this. I’m turning my head to look at him, but his eyes are closed and his breathing is even as if he's already fallen asleep. I chew on my lip, trying to calm my racing thoughts and assure myself that everything will be okay. After a few minutes of laying in silence, I finally allow myself to relax and fall asleep in his warm embrace as I will face tomorrow when tomorrow arrives, for now, I can just let myself have this moment.

----------------

Part Two ⇢ A Moment of Clarity

The Last of Us Masterlist

TAGS: Tag List Form

@clover723​ @sexyvixen7 @iraot​ @gemimawrites​ @twopercentmilk​ @amythenortherner​ @urnewghostfriend​ @grooveandshit​  @canpillowscry​ @ginger-swag-rapunzel​ @quinnverses​ @librafilms​ @notsosecretspy​ @certifiedhunter​ @yourmommilf​ @mediocrewallflow3r​ @fariylixie0915​ @randomhoex​ @secretsthathauntus​ @ems-alexandra​ @quinnsgrapejuice​ @marvelsimps​ @cutesyscreenname​ @misspascaliverse​  @pedritosdarling​ @letsgroovetonighttt​ @chaotic-mystery​

#dbf!joel miller #dbf joel miller #dbf!joel #Joel Miller #Joel Miller x reader #Joel Miller x you #Joel Miller x y/n #Joel Miller fluff #Joel Miller angst #Joel Miller smut #Joel Miller x f!reader #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #Pedro Pascal character #tlou #tlou2 #tlou x reader #tlou fluff #tlou ansgt #tlou smut #tlou x you #tlou x y/n #the last of us #the last of us 2 #the last of us x reader #th least of us fluff #the last of us smut #the last of us angst

[iamnotoriginalphil]

Undercover (Alex Blake x f!Reader)

Synopsis: You don't quite understand how you ended up playing the role of Blake's girlfriend, but your heart is too invested in the fantasy

Words: 3.6k

Warnings: mentions of homophobia, swearing, mentions of alcohol

You were fucked. It was that simple. There was no other way to put it other than you were completely and utterly fucked.

“Seriously Morgan, why do I have to do it?” you demanded, despite knowing the answer.

“The unsub wants age gap lesbians,” he said, “we’ve already been over this.”

“So send JJ. She’s young and hot and amazing in the field,” you said, wheedling him, “come on, please.”

“Oh no, we’re not doing this. If you can’t handle the heat you shouldn’t be our best undercover agent,” he said.

“You know I can’t do this,” you replied, following him.

“Can’t? Or don’t want to?” He flashed that infuriating grin that always made you want to strangle him.

“Morgan, you know why I can’t,” you said.

“An extra layer of realism isn’t going to hurt,” he replied.

“Morgan-“

“Oh look, there’s your hot date right now.��

You snapped your mouth shut, turning on your heels to smile at Alex as if nothing was wrong. She raised an eyebrow at you, pressing her lips into a straight line.

“You okay?” she asked.

“Fine and dandy,” you replied, letting your arms swing down to your side.

“What was that about?” she asked, eyes flicking over to Morgan who was talking to JJ. They both looked away when they noticed you glancing over.

“Morgan’s just being a pain in my ass like usual,” you said.

“We should head back to the hotel and get ready,” she said.

“Right. Yeah. I’ll meet you there. I need to… buy some date appropriate clothes.”

“I’ll meet you at 7:30.” You ignored the wink she shot in your direction.

Shopping was your idea of one of the circles of hell. Trying things on, figuring out if they looked good, if they fit you, it made you want to tear your hair out. It didn’t help that there was a part of you that wanted to look particularly hot for Alex, just in case there was even a sliver of the possibility that she might suddenly realise how much she wanted you when she saw you.

And if it meant you spent extra time getting ready, well, no one had to know about that.

You pulled the door open when you heard the knock at 7:30 exactly. You tried to smile to keep the butterflies in your stomach from overwhelming you. The smile slipped when the entire team was standing on the other side of the door.

“I don’t think we’re all going to fit at the table, guys,” you said, letting them in to your room.

“Damn girl, where you been hiding those legs?” Morgan asked.

“Behind office appropriate slacks,” you replied, “I save them to impress the girls.”

“Blake is a lucky woman.”

You let yourself look at her for the first time since everyone entered the room. Her blazer was the same from the last few days but her trousers were tighter than you were used to, showing off the long line of her legs. Her blouse was unbuttoned a few more buttons than she wore at work, showing just the hint of lace. Your breath caught in your throat.

“Indeed I am.” Her own eyes lingered on your body.

“Alright, you know how the night is going to proceed?” Hotch asked.

“Yes Dad.” You rolled your eyes.

“Morgan and JJ will be in the restaurant with you and Dave and I will be outside in the van,” he said, ignoring your snark, “use the codeword if you need to be extracted.”

“Of course,” Alex said.

“Now you’d better go if you want to make your reservations,” he said.

Alex held the door open for you and you ducked your head as you passed her. You weren’t properly alone with her until you were in the car, the rest of the team following you into the lobby of the hotel. She flashed you a smile.

“You really do look wonderful,” she said, “the girls you go out with are lucky.”

“Not so many of those these days,” you replied.

“That surprises me.” Her eyebrows drew together.

“I suppose I’ve been too busy to think about it,” you said, “this job is pretty hectic.”

“Mm,” she hummed.

She pulled up to the restaurant, throwing the car into park. You didn’t have time to blink before she was out of the car and opening your door. She extended her hand, threading her fingers through yours as she helped you out. You couldn’t help the smile at the feeling of your hands palm to palm.

“Sorry, could we have somewhere a bit more… private?” Alex asked the maitre d’ when you were shown to your table.

She shot you a look filled with intent. You didn’t even have to try at the flush on your cheeks, catching your lower lip between your teeth as her hand rested on your lower back. She led you towards a secluded booth. You slid in beside her, close enough for your thigh to press against hers.

“Should I order for you, honey?” she asked.

“You always know exactly what I want,” you replied, fluttering your lashes at her.

Her eyes dipped down, lingering on the plunging neckline of your dress. You arched your back, just a little and the smirk she gave you let you know she’d noticed.

“And do you know what I want, sweet girl?” she asked.

You shook your head. Her eyes glanced over the menu for a moment before dragging back to you. Her hand landed on your bare thigh, thumb brushing over your soft skin. You shivered, fighting against the impulse to press your legs together.

“I think you do,” she said, drawing closer to you until she was all you could see.

“Are you ready to order?”

You startled, jerking away from her to look up at the waiter. You looked down at your lap, not bothering to listen as Alex told him what you’d be having. You had to calm your heart. This wasn’t real. She was just playing a part. She didn’t feel the same way. No reason to get worked up over nothing.

“You’re being awfully quiet,” she said, tugging on the end of one of your curls.

You looked up at her. Her eyes had grown molten but the sex that had been rolling off her only moments ago had disappeared, replaced with concern.

“I suppose I’m not used to restaurants as nice as this,” you replied, “too many late night runs for burritos and meals consisting of instant ramen.”

“I remember those days,” she chuckled.

You reached out, lacing your fingers through hers, shifting yourself closer to her again. The smile on her face softened into something fond that had your heart beating faster than when her hand had been on your leg. Her arm was resting along the back of the seat, almost curling around your shoulders, fingertips brushing along your shoulder. You did shiver then, letting yourself press a little closer to her.

“Why do I doubt you were ever really bad enough with your money some days you had to choose which meal was the easiest to steal off someone else?” you asked.

“Are you just using me for a free meal?” You loved that smile on her, like the two of you were sharing a private joke.

“And a free place to sleep tonight,” you said.

“Sounds like I’m going to be getting lucky.” You didn’t know when her face had grown so close to you. You liked the way she was looking at you. You could quickly become addicted to it.

Her eyes darted up to something over your shoulder. The waiter was back, placing your food down, wine poured to compliment it. You felt yourself light up at what was placing in front of you.

“My favourite,” you said, looking at her.

“I know.”

She tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, fingers lingering on your jaw. You pressed a kiss to her cheek, soft and gentle. Her look of delight was enough to make your heart sing.

“Thank you,” you said, “for all of this.”

“I have to spoil my special girl,” she replied, voice surprisingly husky.

“So that I can spoil you later?” you asked, widening your eyes in mock innocence.

“Is that what you’re going to do, sweet girl?” She picked up her fork, shifting her attention off you.

You lent forward, lowering your voice as if sharing a secret. She ignored you until your lips brushed against the shell of her ear.

“Imagine I said something about seeing the lingerie I’m wearing underneath my dress just for you,” you murmured, too quiet for anyone but her to hear.

“Dirty girl,” she mumbled, eyes sweeping over your body again.

You felt a warmth flush move through your body, knowing that comment wasn’t for anyone’s ears but your own. You took a shaky breath and began eating as well.

And for a while it was easy to slip into the ruse of a date. Easy conversation, good wine, laughter. Soft touches, hands on your knee, fingers tangling. Kind smiles, sparkling eyes, shared warmth. It was the exact thing you’d dreamt about with this woman. The kind of romantic night you’d imagined over and over again. Your heart was fluttering the entire time.

The waiter cleared the plates and offered you dessert.

“Please?” you asked, pouting at her.

“Can we have a slice of the cheesecake with two spoons?” she asked the waiter, “and two coffees.”

“Of course.”

“How’d you find out I love cheesecake?” you asked.

“Believe it or not, I do pay attention to you,” she said, drawing closer to you, shifting until your bodies were practically pressed against one another.

You turned your body, shifting until one of your legs draped over hers. Your lip caught between your teeth again. She pushed your hair off your shoulder, her breath ghosting over the skin of your neck. Your breath caught in your throat.

“Laugh like I’ve just said something salacious to you,” she murmured, lips practically brushing against your earlobe.

You chuckled, a little self conscious, the flush on your cheeks not pretend. She drew back, just far enough to look in your eyes. Breath mingled together. Her eyes darkened as she looked down at your lips, still caught between teeth.

“I’m going to kiss you now,” she whispered, “is that okay?”

“I’ll have to reprimand you if you don’t,” you breathed.

You were surprised by the heat in her kiss. She stole your breath, her hand coming up to curl around the back of your neck, holding you in place. You moaned when her teeth sunk into your bottom lip, her tongue soothing over it before there was a sting. Her tongue brushed against yours and you were ready to fall to your knees at her alter.

Your own hand slipped under her blazer, seeking out her waist, wondering if you could get closer to her. Her other hand landed on your thigh again, thumb brushing the hemline of your dress, flirting with the possibility of dipping under.

“So sorry.”

You made a small whining noise as she pulled away, looking up at the waiter over your shoulder. She looked back, her thumb running along your bottom lip.

“All that pretty lipstick ruined,” she said, “I’m sorry, darling.”

“Don’t ever be sorry for a kiss like that,” you replied, offering her a small smile.

“If you don’t mind me asking, how long have you two been together?”

You both looked up at the waiter still hovering at the side of the table. His hands were clasped in front of his body and he was smiling down at you.

“Three and a half years,” you replied, “I don’t know how I got so lucky.”

You looked back at her. There was such tenderness in her gaze.

“You seem to still be so in love,” he said, “I’m hoping to find that.”

“I’m sure you will,” you replied, feeling the way Alex’s fingers dug in just a little harder in your thigh.

“I’m beginning to think so too. Enjoy your dessert.”

He slipped through the tables, disappearing back into the kitchen. You turned, catching the look Alex was giving you.

“I plan on enjoying something,” you said, winking at her.

She chuckled, scooping up a bite of the cheesecake.

“Open up,” she commanded.

You did what she asked, closing your lips around the spoon placed in your mouth. She slowly pulled it from between your lips, eyes darkening again. You moaned at the taste, enjoying the way there seemed to be a flush growing high on her cheeks.

“Good?” she asked, voice low again.

“Sorry, I’m just going to have to propose to this cheesecake,” you said after swallowing.

“Three and a half years and you leave me for a dessert,” she laughed, “I should have never brought you here.”

She stole a bite of her own of the cheesecake, eyes closing in bliss. You watched as her tongue darted out, catching a stray crumb on her lower lip and the fire within you ignited again. You were still able to feel that tongue brushing against your own.

“Never mind,” she said, “I’m leaving you for the cheesecake.”

“How about we share?” you suggested, “I hear throuples are all the rage these days.”

“Deal.”

You weren’t expecting the chaste kiss but you also weren’t complaining about it. The only disappointment was when she moved back from you. You traded bites of the dessert and slowly drank your coffee, Alex continually glancing over your shoulder at the waiter, keeping eyes on his movement. You kept leaning closer and closer to her until it was time to go. She signalled to your waiter, bringing him over.

“Could we have the cheque please?” she requested.

“Of course.”

You giggled into her ear, her fingers slowly trailing up and down your back. When he returned he tapped the front.

“I’ve uh, left you a little something in there.”

Alex opened it and you glanced down, finding a Polaroid of something you definitely hadn’t wanted to see. Scrawled on the bottom was a phone number. He was hovering, just a few steps away, as if hoping to gauge your reactions.

“Well, that is certainly him,” you said.

“Yes, definitely the one we’re looking for,” she murmured.

From there it was easy enough to finish up. She placed the money on the table as Morgan arrived to arrest the man. She slipped the photo over to JJ who wrinkled her nose when she looked it over. The four of you escorted him out under the watchful gazes of the restaurant guests, ignoring his protests.

His confession came quick once he was seated in a police cell, talking to Morgan. Standing on the other side of the glass, arms wrapped around yourself, you felt disgusted at the words he was saying. Just another man feeling entitled to a woman’s body, angry at queer women for removing men from the equation completely. You didn’t even see Alex until later, once you were already back at the hotel, Hotch having made the call it was too late to fly back home by that point.

Showered and in your pyjamas, you were sitting on your bed, the TV playing quietly in the background as you stared out over the city. You had to keep trying to calm your heart and remind it that Alex had been playing a part, undercover, that none of it was real and it didn’t matter how much you’d enjoyed being hers for the evening.

A knock sounded quietly on your door. You got up, tugging on your shorts, trying to make them a bit longer for company. You peeked through the peep hole, not sure what you were expecting. The answer still left you confused.

“Hi.”

“Can we talk?” Alex asked.

You help the door open wider for her, letting her in to your room. She walked in, her back to you as she stood in the middle of the room. She turned with the quiet click of the door closing, her arms crossed over her chest.

“It’s pretty late,” you said when it became clear she wasn’t going to say anything.

“We can do this later if you want to sleep,” she said, stepping forward as if about to leave again.

“What did you want to talk about?” you asked, stopping her with both hand on her shoulders.

“It’s…” she trailed off and you watched her eyes trail down your body again, throat bobbing as she swallowed.

“For a master linguist, you seem to be having some problems with your words, Doctor Blake,” you said, giving her a half smile so she knew you were teasing.

“Don’t.” Her eyes squeezed shut, “don’t call me that.”

“Why?”

“Because I like it too much,” she whispered, “when you say it.”

“Alex, look at me.”

She opened her eyes, looking unsure of herself. You tried to give her a reassuring smile.

“Why’d you come see me?” you asked.

“To…” she trailed off, “oh fuck it.”

She tugged you to her, one hand splaying on your lower back, the other tangling in your hair until your head was tilted up to her. Your breath caught as her lips pressed against yours, insistent and needy. Your own hands slid around your shoulders until your arms were wrapped around her and you could press yourself against her without restraint. She hummed into your mouth, keeping you pressed against her as her tongue swept in, making you lose all thoughts from your head beyond the feeling and taste of her.

She pushed you back until you were stumbling towards the large bed. You fell backwards, squealing into her mouth, pulling her with you. Her answering chuckle had a heat spreading through you. You kissed her again, turning that chuckle into a soft sigh.

She shifted until her knees were either side of your hips. You gripped them, tight enough to leave bruises as she kissed you so thoroughly there was nothing but her. Her hair fell around your faces, like a curtain blocking out the rest of the world.

Her lips trailed down your neck and you arched up, seeking her out. You gasped her name when you felt the scrape of her teeth, the flick of her tongue. She sucked on your pulse point, hands beginning to skim down your body.

“Wait,” you gasped, “wait, wait, wait.”

She drew back, sitting back, her weight comfortable on your pelvis. Her eyes were bright and her lips were kiss swollen but there was worry marring her features. You reached up, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, fingers lingering on her skin.

“I’m sorry,” she said.

“What’s… what’s going on here?” you asked, trying to catch your breath.

“I should have asked first,” she said.

“Asked what?” You blinked, not sure what was going through her brain.

“To kiss you.”

“Alex.” Your voice turned gentle as you sat up, shifting her to sit beside you, “tell me what’s going on in there.”

She bowed her head. You ducked your head to look her in the eyes, placing your hands over hers to stop the way her fingers were tapping against one another.

“I really enjoyed pretending to be your girlfriend,” she replied, “more than I should have.”

“You did?”

She looked over at you, bottom lip caught between teeth. She gave a slow nod. You couldn’t stop the grin spreading over your face.

“Thank god I wasn’t the only one,” you said, a small laugh at the end of your sentence.

“What?”

“Alex, you must be the only one on the team who doesn’t know about the massive crush I have on you,” you said, still laughing, “Morgan called it within the first five minutes of my meeting you.”

“The first five minutes?”

“And tonight you were just driving me crazy in all the best ways,” you said, “the way you were touching me? I was ready to ignore the rest of the team and just demand you bring me back here.”

“I can’t imagine anyone not giving in to the impulse to touch you in that dress,” she said.

“Oh, you liked it did you?” you asked, swinging your leg over her body to straddle her lap.

“Honey, I loved it,” she said, fingers beginning to trail over the bare skin of your thighs.

“What did you love so much about it?” you asked, brushing her hair back. She inhaled sharply when your lips pressed to the soft spot on the underside of her jaw.

“Well, I thought the colour was very pretty on you,” she said, head tilting back to give you better access.

“And?” you asked.

“And I especially enjoyed how.” She made a small noise in the back of her throat when your teeth scraped along her skin, “how low cut it was.”

“Mmm I hoped you’d like that,” you murmured, “anything else?”

“I like being able to get my hands on these legs.” Her fingers dug in, that damned thumb running over your skin again, “I like these shorts too.”

You kissed her again, swallowing her moans as your fingers tangled in her hair, gently tugging. The feeling of her hands on your bare skin was making you squirm, her thumb brushing higher and higher, finding the soft skin of your inner thigh. You whined.

“How about I take you on a real date?” she murmured against your lips, “just us, no team listening in, no unsub to find.”

Your kiss was answer enough.

#alex blake #alex blake x reader #alex blake imagine #criminal minds #criminal minds imagine

[v3nusxsky]

Hey sweetheart!! I know your probably busy with other requests at the moment but I was wondering if you can fit me in for a mortica x f!reader smut. Maybe they go to a party and r was being bratty so mortica takes them home early to deal with their desires, and shows no mercy. And maybe after it can be sweet after care with chocolate cake :) also you can add more to the story!!! BTW I really really love your work!!!! Have a good one darling ♡♡

Behaving badly 18+

*Authors note~ requests are definitely coming I just don’t want to post too much as I feel like you guys don’t see them all*

Trigger warnings~ smut bratty r dom m, mommy kink, oral, restraints, toys, orgasm denial

Prompt~ see ask^^^^^^

∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞

Nevermore always held a party for the staff at the end of every semester, a celebration of sorts for the teachers on surviving the few months. You and Morticia had been dating for months now, pretty much old news but you’d promised your boss to keep public displays of affection to a bare minimum. Little did she know that you and Tisha shared a dominant and submissive dynamic with your own rules. One of those rules being to brat in public.

With alcohol flowing and truly what you considered to be boring company, your eyes and mind began to wonder. Your girlfriend looking simply stunning tonight, her usual style of black contrasting with her pale milky white skin. Her dress showing off just enough cleavage to drive you insane. And yet she simply seemed too busy to spare you a glance. You felt your carefully crafted outfit was going unnoticed and that just wouldn’t do. So you formed a plan to gain her attention.

You started off small, texting her some spicy messages to which she short you a glare, “behave” being the message which you choose to ignore. The next step being you’d brush past her and smack her ass or grope her chest, her hands coming up to swat yours away. She tapped twice on your hand before letting it go. A clear warning. Strike two had been given, just a little further and she’d be dragging you to your shared chambers and railing you until you go dumb. You knew how jealous she could be of Larissa, so you made your way to the older woman and leaned in to whisper your plan.

That’s how you found yourself sat on her lap, snuggled in close, you and Larissa had been friends before your relationship with Tish so it felt almost natural and peaceful. Until your girlfriend approached and used her sickly sweet voice to address your friend, “it seems you got lost mon chéri, I hope you aren’t annoying our dear Rissa here.” You couldn’t help yourself, you wriggled in the blondes lap and gave your best puppy dog eyes, “I’m not am I Rissy?”

The poor blonde didn’t know where to put herself in the situation and thankfully she didn’t have to worry about it, your girlfriend displayed 3 slender fingers against her thigh. “I’m sorry Rissy I have to go” you pouted and mumbled “next time” before pressing a sweet kiss to her cheek and hoping off her lap. Larissa sat stunned as you trailed after Morticia like a love sick puppy, “what the hell was all that?” She muttered to herself before grabbing her glass of wine.

Morticia didn’t bother to address you the whole way back to your shared chambers, the excitement and nervous butterflies swarmed around your stomach. As soon as you both were over the threshold of the room the door was promptly slammed shut and your back collided with it, a hand around your throat. “What. The. Hell. Do. You. Call. That. Whore.” She punctuated each with with harsh nips to your neck. You know you shouldn’t but you felt yourself squeezing your thighs together at the degrading name.

“Oh mon chéri, no words now? What a shame because it won’t save you slut” she muttered before pulling away from your body and dragging you to the bed where she promptly stripped you of your outfit, “such a shame I had so many plans to cherish this outfit… yet you had to go and be a brat. Whoring yourself out to the headmistress. If you wanted mommy’s attention you should’ve ask!”

You remained compliant for the raven haired woman as she bound you to the bed rather tightly, clearly you’d successfully pissed her off and she wouldn’t be taking things easy on you tonight. Maybe you’d gone too far? Behaving badly wasn’t meant to be like this.

“You remember your words?” She murmured in a question not really stopping moving around the room gathering toys she wanted to use on you. “Moonlight adjust, raven stop” you whimpered, “sun is good.” Tish made a little happy sound in the back of her throat at your words, she truly had no desire to hurt you too badly, simply she loved you way too much to do so.

The moment your girlfriend settled between your thighs you could’ve cried. You’d been so desperate for her all night and finally you’d be getting something. Anything she would give you’d take and you made sure to voice that, only encouraging her plan for the night. Her tongue expertly lapped at your folds, licking and sucking to get every last drop of arousal as you moaned above her. “Oh fuck mommy yes” you whined as you felt her moan around your cunt, the vibrations aiding her pleasuring you.

Slipping two fingers into your fluttering cunt caused you to whine louder, you really needed her. You needed to cum and cum hard, she knew that of course, but what you didn’t know is she had others plans for you. She pulled her mouth from your cunt to nip and such on your pert buds, marking up the beautiful skin of your breasts until she could feel you getting close. You fought your restraints as you whimpered, “no mommy fuck I’m sorry!”

“Now you’re sorry? You weren’t sorry when you were being a slutty little brat, were you?” She purred pulling the next weapon of choice from the pile, the vibrating wand. Morticia was showing no mercy tonight, she was overwhelming you in the best ways, letting you get right to the edge before ripping it away. The wand touched to your clit until you whimpered with need, for her to take it away from you. Again and again.

When morticia tired of the wand she decided to strip her clothing also and straddle your thigh, immediately bucking her hips to grind her sopping cunt against it. She was drenching your thigh with her slick and all you could do was desperately tug at your restraints as she made herself cum all over you. “Oh fuck, such a goo whore” she panted and you couldn’t help but mewl “mommy oh god yes fuck!”

Almost as if that wasn’t enough she moved off your body selecting a dildo to tease her entrance with as you watched. The moment you saw her pussy suck the toy into it’s walls you could’ve combusted there and then. “Oh fuck mommy god you’re so wet, looks so pretty mommy” you whimpered and whined as she continued to fuck herself. Bringing herself over the edge as one hand teased her breast and the other worked the toy between her legs.

She panted removing the toy and coming up to untie you, legs shaking slightly she made sure to toss you your sleep shirt before adoring her own night wear. You lay there dumbfounded and confused, “but. Mommy?” You whimpered only to be met by her dazzling smile, “oh no whores don’t cum baby” was all she offered. You couldn’t help but throw your body back against the bed and groan, “fuck!”

With a chuckle Morticia made her way around to the little kitchen area and grabbed two generous slices of chocolate cake you’d both baked two days earlier. Joining you in bed she offered you your slice with a fork and kisses your forehead, “take your punishment mon amour, you’ll learn soon enough. I still love you very much” she reassured before taking a bite of the cake and moaning seductively. “Tishhhhh” you whined, “how am I meant to not cum when you do that!” You pouted before taking a forkful of your own slice. “Not my issue mon chéri, now behave my love.”

Word count~ 1416

#anon answered #fanfic #mortica addams #morticia x reader smut #morticia x reader #morticia smut #anon requested #morticia addams #morticia frump

[angelasscribbles]

Auld Lang Syne: A Forbidden Passion One-Shot

Series:  Forbidden Passion

Fandom: The Royal Romance

Pairings: Drake x Riley

Rating: G

Warning: Angsty AF.

Word count: 814

A/N: This one-shot takes place prior to the events in the series. This would be Riley's first New Year's in Cordonia. Special shout out to @nestledonthaveone for sending me the image that prompted this. (The image is in my NYE Drake x Riley Edition post).

Everything else: Master List.

It was almost midnight. In his arms, he held the only thing that had ever mattered to him. He had waited all night for his turn to dance with her. It seemed everyone wanted her attention. She had smiled, twirled, and been polite with foreign dignitaries and Cordonian noblemen alike, but her eyes lit with genuine warmth whenever they landed on him.

He understood all too well the obligations that had kept her busy all night, so he had waited patiently for his turn.

“Are you completely bored yet?” She laughed as he led her onto the dance floor and wrapped her in his arms.

“No,” he breathed out, captivated by the way she glowed from within, happiness evident on her face. Her beauty wasn’t just skin deep. Not to him, anyway.

“I know this isn’t really your scene.” She glanced around the ballroom, draped in New Year’s opulence. Gold glittered everywhere. The rich and privileged sipped champagne and laughed about their plans for extravagant winter getaways after the new year.

“Anywhere you’re at is my scene.” He let slip out before he thought better of it.

“Drake…”

Something in her tone sent butterflies exploding through his chest and heat plunging to his very core. He had heard that tone before. In a pool hall in Paris right before he’d given in to everything he shouldn’t have.

She was looking at him the same way now. Head tipped back, pink coloring her cheeks, eyes probing his as if she could see into his very soul.

“Riley…” his arms tightened around her waist, tugging her closer and holding her flush against him. He leaned toward her, their faces inches apart. With herculean effort, he stopped himself from closing those few inches and claiming her lips.

It would be treason.

Liam’s voice cut through the whiskey and lust induced fog that clouded his brain. “Riley, love, there you are!”

In the blink of an eye, her face cleared of any restrained passion she might have been feeling and lit up with unadulterated happiness as she shifted her attention to her new husband.

Had he just imagined it?

She hadn’t meant it. It was the champagne talking. Right?

“Thank you for keeping her company.” Liam slapped Drake on the shoulder, a little harder than necessary. A little firmer than his usual friendly touches. “But it’s almost midnight and I want to kiss my wife when the ball drops.”

There was a subtle emphasis on the words my wife, a slightly hostile edge in his voice that most people would have missed.  

Drake dropped his hands away from her body and stepped back quickly as guilt flashed across his features. “Of course.”

Riley and Liam had been married a bare three weeks earlier. They were preparing to leave on their honeymoon in less than a week.

Whatever slim chance he’d had with her had evaporated when he had chosen to ignore her, and their night together, after Paris.

It was for the best. He watched Liam pull her tenderly to him. He watched Riley stare up at her husband with absolute love and adoration in her gaze.

 Drake turned and trudged off the dance floor and toward the bar as the room started to count down to the new year.

“Whiskey, neat and keep them coming.”

He fought the urge to turn back to the room and find them. Fought and lost. He watched as confetti and streamers burst from the ceiling and the crowd roared. He watched as Liam kissed her the way he had wanted to.

Fuck this.

He spun back to the bar and downed the drink in front of him. “You know what? Just give me the whole bottle.”

He took the bottle and headed for the exit, pausing at the doorway to torture himself with one last look.

She was on the dance floor with her husband. Liam had her cocooned in his embrace as they swayed with the music. Her head rested on Liam’s shoulder, but her eyes were locked on him.

The bottom fell out of his stomach. Until that moment, he hadn’t realized it was possible for his heart to soar and plummet at the same time.

For one moment, time froze as they stared across the room at each other. Neither one smiled. Neither one looked away. For the millionth time, he asked himself why she had this power over him; why his heart beat for her and her alone? What cruel twist of fate put his heart at the feet of the woman married to his best friend? The one man he couldn’t, and wouldn’t, betray.

Then Liam spun her around, so her eyes were no longer on him.

Drake turned on his heel and forced himself to walk away. He whispered under his breath as he made his way back to his room, “Happy New Year, Campbell.”  

#forbidden passion #trr #trr au #the royal romance #drake walker #the royal romance fanfic #angelasscribbles #choices #choices fic writers creations #cfwc fics of the week #choices stories you play #drake x mc

[milky-mink]

Yandere Kakucho as your secret admirer Headcanons

TW: Yandere, Stalking, Kidnapping

As far as you know, you are just a normal College Student that lives in Tokyo with no special quality whatsoever

You lived in a suburban neighborhood with two of your cats ever since your parents had to work in another country, leaving you all alone in a two story house. With no relatives to take care of you, you rely on yourself to survive

You are average at everything, in looks, personality, school, sports or any other things that you could think of, even if you work so hard on something, you would only still get above average as a result

And due to that, you gave up on exerting anything in your life and just do things with minimal effort, although it made your life easier,it also made you very bland and uninteresting as a person

Because of that, you would always be unremarkable to most of your peers and the people around you

Despite the fact that it made you angry and frustrated inside, you just swallowed that bitter fact and try to go on in your day to day life

Average,Unremarkable, Boring, Forgettable. Those were the words that could only describe your whole appearance and personality

But then one day, things started to change

Love letters in your mailbox, flowers sent to your home everyday, food deliveries every time you forget to make either Breakfast or Dinner and even expensive gifts that you know that you could never afford in your whole life, even if you saved up for it

At first you thought that it was a joke, even though you aren’t bullied in middle school or in high school due to you being good at blending in, you have seen bullying face to face and one of those are people giving the targets love letters as a joke to humiliate them in front of their friends, so you just either ignore it or put it in the trash.

You thought that those things would stop since it was just a way to get into you but it still keep coming

Jewelries, Luxury Clothing and even those Fancy wrist watches that you could only see celebrities and CEOs wear in public, those are the few examples that the mysterious admirer has sent to you

It was flattering at first and even romantic, with having no one to care and love for you at a young age, you quickly got attached to the mysterious person who’s sending you these gifts

Every time you’ve received those flower bouquets and those sappy romantic love letters,it felt like there’s butterflies in your stomach, it feels so good to be noticed by someone, to feel wanted by that person.

But all good things must come to an end as the letters started to get much more intimate and creepy, and the gifts started to get personal and excessive, as if he’s stalking you 24/7

That person would write to you letters about your day, the whole details of it, they even sent pictures of you inside of your home or in public areas

The romantic letters are now turned sour, an example would be that the letter they’ve sent about you talking to one of your classmates about a certain topic in your class that you couldn’t understand, saying that you shouldn’t talk to other guys and if you have a problem, just write back to them

And those were one of the mild ones as they kept sending letters upon letters in your mailbox, although you burned them all. Those letters are still able to get to you by either your phone, email or any social media accounts that you have, even the once that you used anonymously

You tried to file complaint to the police about your stalker but they just ignore it, saying that they would look in that case but its been weeks, and there’s still nothing done about your stalker

You’ve finally had enough of everything that has happened to you, violation of privacy, illegal trespassing, stalking both in real life and online. It's all too much for you to handle

So you’ve decided to buy a burner phone and call your parents in another country, saying that you would just live with them and enter a local university

You’ve drop out of university and quickly booked a flight to where you parents are working in

Just as you were about to leave your home with your cats and suitcases, you heard a loud knocking on the door

Annoyed, you quickly walked to the door to open it, revealing a tall man with a black hair, wearing a black overcoat. There’s a notable feature on his face, which is a scar that goes through his left eye

Just as when you are about to ask what he is doing in your home, he quickly puts a cloth in your mouth and tightly restrain you so you couldn't escape

You tried to get out of his hold, thrashing and trying to kick his groin but the chemicals in that cloth started to take effects on you, making you dizzy and weak

Just as you are about to lose consciousness, you felt him kissing your neck and then whisper into your ear, his last words to you before you black out should’ve been comforting but instead scared you to the core

“Sweet dreams, (Y/N), I’ll be with you from now on” 

#yandere tokyo revengers #yandere tokrev #yandere Hitto Kakucho #yandere kakucho #tokyo revengers headcanons #tw yandere #yandere #yandere headcanons #kakucho imagines #kakucho headcanons #kakucho hcs