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#where things will get spicier and
jomiddlemarch · 8 months
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only true things even when she wasn't quite sure what was true
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“You’re good at this,” Grace said, too languid to bother dragging a sheet anywhere near her body. He’d made her lose herself or lose that perpetual scanning awareness and responsibility that had kept her alive since the world had ended, that had helped her succeed at achieving her own goals and the ones her family had for her Before, but she hadn’t had any accompanying anxiety as she’d been released into sensation before thought, instead of thought, and she’d felt nothing but a wonderful, almost boozy peace after coming down from her breathless climax. 
Read the rest here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/48560362
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dominonary · 1 year
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chapter 1 of scientific approach, the sequel to mutualistic symbiosis, is now up as well!!
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liltangerineart · 3 months
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C O N S E Q U E N C E S
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gif by @trashcora
pairing: joel miller x f!reader
word count: 4.1k
rating: e (minors dni)
song inspo: wicked game by chris isaak
summary: playing around with joel is like playing with fire, so when you play a small trick on him you face the consequences for it.
warnings: language, walkie-talkie sex?, dom/sub dynamic, brat taming, bondage, biting, nipple play, spanking, clit teasing, edging, rough unprotected piv sex, creampie
authors note: a lil end of year horny one shot lol, enjoy 😉
One thing you’ve come to learn about being with Joel Miller is that he does not bluff. If you mess with him, expect to receive it back ten fold. He is the living embodiment of “fuck around and find out”. The only thing equal to his commitment is your insatiable curiosity.
An unstoppable force meeting an immovable object.
It’s a game you both play. You want to find out what he’s capable of so you toy with him. To dive deeper into that darkness inside of him. And you make sure he knows it. If you push him, you want to know how hard he’ll push back.
And you might’ve… maybe… perhaps… pushed him a little too far this time.
Last night, Joel was out on a night shift at the outskirts of Jackson. Leaving you by yourself at home. Being on rotation yourself, you know it’s usually a long and quiet assignment with maybe an occasional infected stumbling too close to town. Basically, uneventful.
So, you thought it would be nice to call him on his walkie-talkie late at night and keep him company. And maybe the conversation skewed a little spicier than normal. Words became moans, hands traveled south. Aaaand maybe you made yourself come after he explicitly told you not to without him. Effectively leaving him hanging as you fell asleep peacefully.
When you woke up, the memory of last night flooded in and a wide sleepy grin spread across your face. Today is one of those rare occasions where you didn’t have any assignments and no patrol today. So, you slept in. Something you haven’t been able to do for weeks.
Surprisingly though, Joel hasn’t been back at the house yet. It’s already past 9am and the night shift usually comes back into town around 6am. Maybe you did push it too far and he’s pissed. In that case, maybe it’s a good idea to let him cool off for a bit.
There are a couple things you wanted to get done today. Best not to waste a day like this. After throwing on some cargo pants and a tank top, and grabbing one of the grocery baskets from the kitchen, you head out to town.
The early autumn breeze is cool and welcome after this particularly brutal summer. And some of your favorite foods are coming into season. You spend a lot more time than intended trading and talking with people in town. When winter hits and the snow starts piling up, it’s usually a struggle for the town until the snow melts. So you enjoy these small comforts while you can.
On your way back with a basket full of groceries, walking down the street is the patrol group from last night getting off their shift. Minus Joel. But amongst the group is Tommy. He glances your way and spots you across the street from within the crowd and waves at you. You wave back and walk over to greet him. Maybe he knows where Joel is.
“We missed you this time around,” he jokes with you. Taking the strap of his rifle off his torso.
“I’d say I’d feel guilty but honestly sleeping in this morning was fan-fucking-tastic,” you tell him with a laugh. “You guys are coming back late. Anything happen?”
“Nah, nothing major. There was a meeting afterwards about prepping for winter, that’s all.”
“Oh, so Joel was there too?”
Tommy’s smile weakens a bit, and his eyes slightly glance around him. Almost as if he’s found himself walking on eggshells. He takes the clip off his rifle and unloads the bullets to store in his bag. Probably just giving his hands something to do.
“Yeah, he was there,” he says plainly. There’s no other explanation that comes after, just a couple beats of silence. Making you suspicious.
“Is he ok,” you prod.
“Yeah yeah yeah, he’s… fine, I guess.”
You guess?
…Ok?
After another moment of awkward silence, you’re about to give him a courteous smile and a “see ya later”. But before you do, Tommy glances back at you.
“Hey can I-“ He pauses for a beat and you raise your eyebrows at him , waiting for him to continue. But he shakes his head and returns to his task. “Actually, never mind.”
“Tommy, you’re looking at me all weird,” you tease him with a smirk. “Spit it out.”
“I was gonna ask you about something but I don’t think it’s any of my business to be honest.”
Well, this oughta be good…
Placing a hand on your hip, you give him a raised brow. Signaling to him that you’re waiting for an explanation here. He notices and swallows hard. Looking around one final time before leaning in and lowering his voice.
“Don’t tell him I asked this, ‘Kay?”
“Oh, I can’t wait to hear this,” you say with a mischievous smile.
“Did,” he pauses again. “Did you and Joel have like… a fight or somethin’?”
You raise a suspicious brow at his question but it still makes you chuckle under your breath.
“A fight?”
“For some reason, when he came back from patrol this morning, he seemed… pissed.”
“Pissed is pretty much his natural state, Tommy. You’re gonna have to be a bit more specific.”
“Well, it was dialed to a hundred this morning,” he explains. “He came back to the base with this look on his face like he was ‘bout ready to kill anyone in his path. He unloaded all his guns like he had something against ‘em. He was boiling through the whole damn meeting. And he completely forgot about the stable duty he volunteered for afterwards. Which prompted a really interesting tantrum. It’s been weird. You know anything ‘bout that?”
You bite back your smile. But inside, you’re so fucking pleased with yourself. Knowing you got that menacing, stone-hearted, guard dog of a man so sexually frustrated that he’s been walking around town pissed all morning just warms your heart.
“Uh, nope. Can’t say I do.”
“Well, he should be home by now. Just be careful he doesn’t bite your head off at the door when you get back.”
I hope he bites something…
“Thanks for the warning,” you tell him, all too giddy to find out what’s waiting for you.
Walking up the steps of the porch, you find Joel’s boots and backpack sitting on the floor beside the door. A flare of excitement and nervousness shoots up your body. Before you twist the door handle, you take a deep breath and compose yourself.
“I’m home~,” you greet as you open the door. “Joel?”
There’s silence in the house. You look around and wait for a response but it doesn’t come. Maybe he’s taking a shower or something. Shrugging it off, you sit on the entryway bench and kick off your boots. You take the basket to the kitchen sink and begin washing some of the fruits and veggies you got this morning.
“That wasn’t nice.” Joel’s voice carries from across the room, making chills run up your spine.
You’re in for it. You know it. You played with fire, and now your skin buzzes in anticipation. Waiting for the consequences. You bite your lip to hold back your smile, knowing if he sees it it’ll only piss him off more. But against your better judgment, you peek at him over your shoulder anyway.
He stands at the entryway of the kitchen with his hands on his hips. His salt and pepper hair is damp and messy like he just came out of the shower and quickly ran a towel through it. No shirt, just a clean pair of jeans as he stands there. Bare chested and puffed with fury.
“I’m waiting,” he growls.
“For what? A cookie,” you ask with sweet sarcasm.
He breathes a heavy exhale through his nose, seething across the room. The hands on his hips almost twitching with anger.
“Apologize,” he says sternly.
“Me? What did I do?”
“You know what.”
Drying off your hands with a kitchen towel, you turn around to face him completely. Leaning back with your hands resting gracefully on the counter. His eyes pierce you like arrows and it’s honestly such a turn on when he gets like this. You always get a deep satisfaction knowing that only you can get him like this with just a few choice words.
“I have no clue what you mean,” you purr. “In fact, I think I’ve been very sweet with you.”
“Don’t get cute with me,” he snaps back. “I’ve had all morning to think of what to do with you and I don’t wanna hear any arguments. You get your ass upstairs, take off your clothes, and get in that fucking bed. Now.”
A cocktail of emotions rush through your bloodstream. Excitement, arousal, fear, and a little anger. You’ve always been quick to snap back whenever someone raises their voice at you or bosses you around. But that’s with normal people. And Joel is not a normal person.
Knowing this doesn’t stop you from facing that danger, though. He might not be playing around, but the game never really stops for you. So, like you always do, you keep pushing. Testing the walls of his limits. So you answer him wearing that wicked little smile of yours.
“I don't know where you got it that you can boss a woman around like that, Joel. You know better than that.”
“I won’t ask again, little girl.”
Here it comes. Your final push.
“Or what?”
Those two simple words make him snap. His heavy footfalls close in on you, and suddenly his hand takes hold of your hip. Whipping you around so he can rush you. Lifting you up, he throws you over his shoulder. The air leaves your lungs in a yelp as you dangle behind him like a child getting disciplined. Making your blood boil as you bang your fists against his back.
“What the fuck, Joel?! What are you doing?!”
“Teachin’ you a lesson.”
He stomps aggressively up the stairs and you feel like you’re about to slip off and fall at any second. When he reaches the bedroom, Joel kicks the door wide open. Making it hit the wall with a loud bang. He tosses you on the bed face first like a rag doll. You gasp at the sudden drop and before you can even get a grip on anything to escape, his hands grab both of your arms and holds them behind your back. Pressing you face down into the mattress.
“Apologize,” he grits out. You try to squirm out of his grip to no avail.
“Not a chance,” you spit back at him.
He switches his grip to hold your wrists with one hand as the free one yanks the hem of your cargo pants down and off your legs. Exposing your ass and the thin straps of your black panties for him. You only feel the cool air for a moment before his hand comes down to your cheek with a hard and swift spank.
You gasp into the bed, trying to hide the moan crawling up your throat from him. Your whole body tingles beneath him. Your cunt squeezes around nothing and the pulse in your clit instantly starts to throb. As good as it feels, it also pisses you off even more
Who the fuck does he think he is spanking you like a goddamn child?
“Apologize,” he growls again, firmer and louder this time. Your thighs rub together trying to relieve the growing ache between your legs. Arching your back, you raise your hips and give him a little wiggle to taunt him.
“Fuck. You.”
His hand comes down again with a loud thwack and this time you can’t hold back the depraved moan from escaping. The sting on your ass sends a jolt of electricity up your spine and a pool of warmth down to your core. You squirm under him, this time toying with him instead of trying to escape again.
“You’re making it harder for yourself, sweetheart,” he taunts, taking a handful of you in his hand and squeezing the raw flesh. You mewl into the mattress, trying to push yourself into him for more. You need more. But you’re just as stubborn as he is.
“If you're going to act like a little brat then I'm going to treat you like a little brat.”
“Don’t you dare,” you snarl at him.
But he doesn’t answer you. Instead the hand on your ass leaves you and you can hear a growling “fuck” fall past his lips. There’s some jostling noises and you can tell he’s trying to untie his jeans. And something about the sound of his belt buckle being pulled off his jeans makes you absolutely feral for him.
God, yes. Please just let him fuck you and then you’ll be so sweet for him.
But that’s not what he’s preparing for. Suddenly there’s only one strong hand holding your arms and you feel the leather strap loop around your wrists. He ties the belt loose enough that it doesn’t hurt but there’s no way you’re able to wiggle your way out of it.
“You know I would never do anything to you that you didn’t ask for,” he huffs, and for a second you think he’s going to be sweet with you and give you what you so desperately want but won’t say. But he goes on. Leaning over your body and caging you in between his arms. He presses his hips against your clothed pussy and you can feel his hard cock underneath his jeans.
“I’ll give you everything you want. And I’ll do it so good and so goddamn hard that you’ll be begging to come. And maybe I’ll let you…“ he leans in closer and you can feel his hot breath against your ear. “All you have to do…”
Yes?
“…is be a good girl…”
Yes? Anything…
“…and apologize.”
Fire burns it’s way throughout your whole body. You press into his groin and he pushes back but it’s not enough. You crave at least the tiniest bit of friction between your legs and he’s right there, ready to give it to you.
The apology is on the tip of your tongue and you almost let it fly out. But honestly… you kind of like this little game. There’s something so devious about not immediately giving into his demands that’s so fucking erotic. And you’re curious to see what he’ll do to you if you don’t comply.
“Bite me,” you mew.
Joel sighs a deep breath through his nose like the air in his lungs is hot steam and you smile to yourself. Loving how much you have an effect on him. And you kind of get the feeling he was hoping you would say that.
He stands up on his feet and you can feel his eyes peer down to you, no doubt taking in how disheveled you look right now. Suddenly his hands come down on your hips, gripping them hard and pulling you to the edge of the bed and you gasp. Equally scared and aroused. His hands come up to your ass, grabbing and pinching the flesh before his mouth comes in to bite it hard.
Fuck, you didn’t think he’d literally bite you, but ok.
He sucks on the skin to soothe the sting and the ache between your legs is unbearable. When his mouth leaves, it’s quickly replaced with a hard smack and your whole body jolts up. Joel chuckles to himself and you can only imagine the dirty little grin on his face right now. You feel his fingers dip underneath the little band of your panties and gently tug.
“Look at you. Soaking wet for me and I’ve barely touched you,” he huffs.
He slowly tugs the thin fabric again and again. Deliberately rubbing your clit with your own panties. You moan helplessly into the mattress and your thighs start to tremble. His pace is steady and calculated. And in less than a minute of that amazing friction, you can feel your orgasm begin to crest.
“You want more?” His voice is dripping with lust and you can feel yourself getting close. When you hum ‘yes’, he groans low in his throat. Giving you another tight smack on your ass and making you yelp.
“Use your words,” he demands. His smile is heard clear in his tone.
“Y-yes,” you gasp.
His pace quickens, teasing your throbbing clit deliciously while your body starts to burn from the inside out. Your moans and whimpers echo in the room while he works magic on you. And you can feel your warm slick juices slowly drip down your inner thighs.
It’s so fucking close. It’s right there. Just a little more.
“Not yet.”
He stops completely. Even going as far as unhooking his fingers from the fabric. You groan loudly with impatience. Your hips blindly search for his hands, trying to chase the feeling again.
No. Shit shit shit. Please, you were right there!
“I know, baby,” he sympathizes, tracing his fingers up your inner thigh where he’s made a mess. “You were breathing so hard just now. I know you wanna come so bad. But you know what you gotta do.”
“Please…,” you whimper, so fucking lost in your own heat. Everything’s burning, aching. You need him.
“Please what?” His palm smooths over your right ass cheek. Slowly caressing and kneading the plump flesh.
“…Fuck me… please.”
He hums at your request. His hands leave you entirely and after a couple seconds you hear the sound of his jeans being undone. He mumbles a few low curses under his breath. Suddenly, he yanks the panties to the side and you feel something warm and stiff press against your pussy. You gasp, almost scared of what he has planned for you. But fuck, do you want it.
“You look so good like this.” His hand holds on to the belt binding your hands. Pulling your arms and arching your back so he can push you further against his cock. He slides back and forth between your lips, coating himself with your arousal and making you writhe. You wish you could see it. What does he look like right now? What kind of expression is he wearing?
Fitting the tip to your entrance, one hand takes hold of the belt while the other grips your hip. And in one long push, he feeds you his cock. Sinking into you until the root of him meets your entrance. You flutter around him. Gasping his name as he stretches you out.
“Oh, God…,”
“Fuck, you’re so tight… Holy shit,” he groans, almost losing his composure entirely. He feels so perfect. So fucking hot and hard inside you. But you need him to move. It’s almost unbearable to keep waiting.
He pulls back leisurely, then with one quick motion, his hips snap forward. Slamming back into you and eliciting a guttural moan from both of you. He does it again, and again, until his pace becomes steady and unrelenting.
Your eyes roll back closed and you're pretty sure you start to drool on the sheets. You completely give in to him. The sounds you’re making roll out of you without any control and the curses under your breath are barely coherent. All while Joel loses himself inside you. Huffing your name and groaning at the fucking pleasure he’s taking from you.
The pressure starts building again. This time deeper and more intense than just on your clit. He fucks into that perfect spot inside you with each hard thrust and you’re not sure how much longer your going to last. Your breathing becomes more shallow, your moans choke your throat, and the throbbing inside your pussy is at its highest. This is it. You’re gonna come. Just one more thrust and…
He pulls out completely. Panting like he just ran a mile and leaning his hand on the bed for support.
“Uh-uh. Brats don’t get to come,” he pants.
“What the fuck?!” You cry out for him because now this is just plain mean. Your eyes start to well with tears, so frustrated with this game. It’s honestly the hottest sex you’ve had with him so far, but you’re both too fucking stubborn and it’s starting to piss you off.
The next second, you’re being pulled back off the bed by your binds. Forced to stand on weak, trembling legs as Joel presses his bare chest to your back. Your only support. His free hand snakes up your tank top to take a breast in his hand. Squeezing and pinching, making you whine for more.
“Say it,” he growls in your ear.
His words burn you from the inside out. And you don’t want to give in. But you just don’t have it in you anymore to resist. That damn stubbornness of yours crumbles at his feet and you just fucking want him.
“Say it,” he repeats, tugging tighter at your binds.
“I-I’m sorry,” you breathe out. Blowing away the stray hair sticking to your damp face.
“Sorry for what?” He pinches your nipple harder, making you gasp at the delicious pain.
“I’m sorry, ah… I’m sorry I teased you last night.”
“And?”
“And… for coming without you… I’m sorry.”
His lips spread into a smile against the skin of your neck. And you almost miss it, maybe he thought it wasn’t noticeable. But as he exhales a deep breath, you catch the small, devious little laugh riding on it.
“I accept your apology,” he taunts low in your ear.
“You gonna untie me now?”
“Fuck no.”
Before you can protest him, Joel forcefully shoves you down face first back on the bed. And you know he’s done holding back. He rains down on you and you’re all too eager to welcome him. With one hand, he presses down on your shoulders. With the other, he lifts your ass up. And in one swift plunge, he thrusts hard back inside you with no mercy.
You cry out for more. Your body, trembling under his hands as he starts at a fast and rough pace. He’s all hard muscle and wild grunts as he fucks you into the bed. Savage and unrelenting. Everything you love about him.
“Atta girl, fucking take it,” he pants behind you.
You cry out for more and Joel is more than happy to give it to you. Pounding your poor little cunt the way he sees fit, no holding back. It doesn’t take long for that wave of pleasure to rise again. Each deep thrust hits perfectly against your core. He teases you against that edge and you’re dying to let yourself fall.
“Joel! Joel, please,” you pant in heat.
“You wanna come, sweetheart?”
“Yes! Don’t stop, please don’t stop!”
“Then fucking come for me,” he groans. Taking your hips in his hands, he revs at full throttle. Your breathing is erratic, your thighs shake, and finally he allows you to reach that blissful tipping point. Your whole body trembles as the orgasm wracks through your body.
Joel fucks you through it, not far behind you as his pace becomes fast and shallow. His moans are feral and his fingers dig into the flesh of your hips as he reaches his own tipping point.
“Fuck…,” he groans. “Fuck! Ah!”
He chokes and lets out a wild noise as he drives himself deep inside your cunt. Spilling into you and losing himself in the moment. His hips rock against you hard, until his pace eventually slows to a stop and he’s utterly spent. And the only sounds that echo in the room is the heavy breathing of your mutual satisfaction.
Your body is absolutely done. When Joel slowly takes his belt off your wrists, there’s nothing to keep your arms from falling limp on either side of you. Gently, he flips you into your back and you finally get to see him. Not angry, not with his walls up. Just the man you’ve come to love. His cheeks are flushed, and a layer of sweat coats his hot skin. His bare chest heaves as he catches his breath. And he just stands there, drinking you in as you lay on the bed thoroughly fucked.
When he leans over you, you don’t waste a second to connect his lips to yours. You both savor each other as if it’s been months instead of hours. It occurs to you that it’s the first time you’ve kissed since he left last night, which makes it all the more sweeter. As he separates, a smile spreads on his face, making you do the same.
“See,” he breathes against your lips. “That wasn’t so hard, was it?”
Thank you for reading! If you enjoyed, please reblog and add a comment if you’d like. It means so much to writers like me and helps us share our work on here 😘 Also, if you’d like to be tagged for future works, let me know in the comments ✨
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yuzuocha · 2 months
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HEARTSTRING FORTISSIMO. — セイヤ [XAVIER]
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a spicier ending to xavier's 'heartstring symphony' memory. gn!mc
age rating ‣ 16+ [suggestive but not explicit]
warnings ‣ softcore, power play, minor asphyxiation. besides that, there's nothing much to warn about. still, beware lol
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"Are 'small animals' like me pushovers? Do enlighten me, since you seem to know everything."
Perhaps it was because you haven't seen him in weeks, but it seemed you forgot what Xavier was really like. Yes, he is gentle. Yes, he is considerate. Yes, he is sweet. But his kind demeanor also held something sinister.
You haven't quite pondered about it much, but Xavier had a quiet yet possessive streak. He'd always at the very least have pinkies interlocked with yours when together. He'd always somehow teleport to you just when the enemy Wanderer was about to land a fatal blow. He always knew where you were.
He was a wolf in sheep's (or in his case, bunny's) clothing. He always has been.
“When faced with a hunter who knows my weaknesses and how to take advantage of them…” Xavier’s breath fanned your face, his right hand brushing against your temple. Although gentle, his touch felt electrifying. It felt dangerous. It was dangerous.
The breaths that were blanketed on your lips were soon replaced with lips of his own. You let out a short gasp at the stark contrast between his usual and current kisses — they were usually soft and mellow yet endearing, but now they were intense, brisk and hungry.
“Haa—”
A sigh of surprise left your lungs when you felt Xavier’s tongue glide slightly across your teeth. Rookie error — he wasn’t going to let you breathe for a while.
“...just what, exactly, do I do?” Xavier rasped in between kisses, one hand snaking up to support your body and the other coercing your head to a better angle.
With you growing increasingly lightheaded the more fervent and desperate his kisses became, a thrilling shiver crawled down your spine hearing his growl. You knew the answer to his question down to your bones.
You can only get devoured.
Xavier suddenly pulled away, finally giving you a chance to breathe. He gently tipped your chin upwards for your eyes to meet his blazing gaze while you caught your breath. You felt your body burn in places he locked his eyes with.
“...surrender,” You were able to mumble out. “You can only… surrender, or else...”
He whispered while wiping a lone tear that escaped your eye, “Or else what, I’ll get eaten or something?”
“Is that it, love?"
There was a pause of silence between your noses that were inches apart before Xavier dove down and pressed his lips against your neck, humming in satisfaction hearing you gasp every time he nipped your skin. His callused fingers started to tease your shirt off whilst kisses butterflied over his slow but precise work.
“...I’m sorry, I should’ve responded to your messages,” Xavier paused for a moment, murmuring the apology at your sternum. His hot breath on your bruised skin made you slightly arch your back. “And about my injuries and lack of reply… I promise it won’t ever happen again.”
“...will there be a day where you’ll fall asleep and never wake up?” His eyes softened at your reply as he leaned upwards. You felt his lips pecking your forehead, each of your eyelids, your cheeks and your nose before pausing right in front of your face.
“If such a thing ever happens, you—and only you—must remember to wake me up,” Xavier whispered, his hand sliding to your hips and his hair tickling your nose. You felt something graze up against your abdomen which lit up the fire burning at the core of your stomach. Your suspicions were confirmed seeing Xavier’s reddened ears gently glow through the light of the full moon.
Ah. You indeed missed him, and he missed you too. Greatly.
After a silent pause, you circled your legs around Xavier’s back and kissed his facial features just as he did to yours. His eyes slightly widened at your forwardness, however the surprise faded as quickly as it came as he cradled your body in his arms while pulling you up, the moon shining upon you and Xavier at each others’ full glory.
“I will.”
That was all he needed.
HEARTSTRING FORTISSIMO — END.
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tysm for reading! comment down below if you'd like to be a part of the tag list, and if you can, please do consider reblogging! it helps out a lot ;; w ;;
yuzuocha © 2024 — all rights reserved.
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ginnsbaker · 5 months
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In Silent Screams (2/3)
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Several weeks into her affair with Vision, the voice inside Wanda's head urging her to end things diminishes to faint murmurs, eventually fading away entirely.
Chapter word count: 8k+ Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader, Wanda Maximoff x Vision Warnings: Smut (F/M), Cheating, Angst, Gaslighting, Manipulation, Dubious Consent, Toxic Relationships
Notes: M rating this time. It gets spicier because what's between them is just pure lust. There will be a full smut scene that is a bit triggering given the context of how it happens, why it happens. I will mark it in red so you can skip it. Again, you will probably hate Wanda here more than the previous part, be warned.
Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist
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Part II
Comfort starts to creep in, wrapping around Wanda like a cozy blanket.
Several weeks into her affair with Vision, the voice inside Wanda's head urging her to end things diminishes to faint murmurs, eventually fading away entirely. And as she allows herself to indulge in the newness of his body and all the ways he is different and not what she’s used to, it becomes even more pleasurable (and addicting) for her when they come together. 
Wanda starts to think that maybe being with Vision like this doesn't take away from the love she has for you. It's almost as if she's compartmentalized herself—her relationship with you remains sacred, undisturbed by the dalliances that occupy her days. Vision has become a separate chapter, a deviation from the norm, but he's not taking the place of what she's built with you over time. Every night, regardless of how late it gets or how entangled she becomes in her meetings with Vision, she finds herself retracing her steps back to you. Her days begin with your face, and they end with your arms around her. There's a routine in that, a certainty she clings to.
Being with Vision helps her forget she's even in Westview. She's less haunted by the child she couldn't have with you, by the job she left behind for your sake. She dwells less on missing you, on feeling like she's become a secondary character in your life as you work tirelessly to provide for her. And isn't that what marriage truly is? More than the vows and the rings, it's about choosing the same person every day. It's about finding ways not to hold grudges, to keep the bond strong, to maintain a balance, right?
Her friendship with Vision, devoid of the usual societal filters, feels pure. They share, they debate, they laugh. But as the sun sets, Wanda always knows where she belongs. 
To you. 
-
“You’re kidding.”
Vision glances back at her over his shoulder, flashing a playful grin. They're in a park just outside of town, a result of those spontaneous drives they occasionally take. They've found a quiet corner, a place where they can be with each other, away from the rules of their complicated lives. Him being her student makes everything that much more delicate.
“Why would I joke about something like that?” he says, looking pleased with himself.
Wanda puts down the essay she’s reviewing and leans back on the picnic blanket, shielding her eyes from the sun. “You seriously want to buy art from the gallery?”
He shrugs, “I like what they showcase. Plus, I thought... well, it might be a good opportunity for you to earn a commission.”
It’s a weak argument and they both know it. She smirks, “Trying to impress someone?”
Vision pauses, taking a deep breath, serious as he says, “Maybe.”
Wanda sighs, feeling a knot tighten in her stomach. “Vision, we need to be careful.”
“Careful? Wanda, we're miles away from Westview. I'd say we're being pretty meticulous about this.” He smirks, pointing to the tall trees that shield them from any possible onlookers. “With all these trees and not a bird in sight, we could even fuck right here in the open if we wanted to.”
Wanda fixes him with a sharp gaze, one that immediately conveys her disapproval. Immediately, the smirk fades from his lips, replaced by  a realization that he might have gone too far with his teasing. He reads the message in her eyes loud and clear. Not only is his suggestion off the table, but he also senses that he may have jeopardized his luck in the coming days.
“I… I’m sorry,” he murmurs, going back to his sketchpad. They don’t speak to each other for a while. Wanda is deeply engrossed in the essays she has to review, already behind the deadline she set for herself, while Vision gives her space to cool down from his mistake. Their arguments are always brief but intense, and lately, they haven't been leading to sex as often as Vision would prefer.
“I’ve been meaning to ask,” Vision starts, “How is it, being with Y/N? Being married, I mean.”
Wanda stiffens at the mention of your name. She's never discussed you with Vision, and a surge of panic begins to rise within her. She hides her reaction by neatly rearranging the papers alphabetically in front of her. 
“I told you she’s off limits,” she answers a moment later.
Vision feigns surprise, tilting his head slightly. “Ah, my apologies. I meant no disrespect,” he says, his voice carefully neutral.
Wanda purses her lips, her posture tensing further. “Just... let's not go there.”
Vision nods, though he can't help but steal a quick glance at the wedding ring on her finger. It taunts him everytime he sees it, reminding him of the life she shares with someone else—a life he often finds himself yearning to be a part of. He's been daydreaming about a different reality, where Wanda is by his side not on borrowed time, where he is the one she turns to at the end of a long day.
He's persuaded her to share her thoughts with him, to spread her legs for him; how much more challenging could it be to win her heart next? He'll take it one day at a time if he has to. Patience is something he doesn't mind exercising.
Cleverly masking his intentions behind a facade of casual curiosity, Vision continues, “Hypothetically speaking, if you were to give insights on marriage, just in general...What are your thoughts?” He leans back, making the conversation seem casual, though every word is carefully calculated.
She glances at him, slightly suspicious but not fully alarmed. “Why the sudden interest?”
“Oh, you know," Vision waves his hand dismissively. “It's just something that's been on my mind lately. As a concept, I mean.”
Wanda narrows her eyes slightly, studying him. She knows Vision well enough to understand that behind his seemingly innocent inquiries, there's often an ulterior motive. But she also knows that he's persistent, and sometimes, the best way to deal with him is to play along, to a point.
“It’s…” Wanda finds herself grappling for an answer. She hadn’t expected that the answer would be much more complex now given recent events. She used to look at it in an idealized way, where marriage is what happens at the end of an epic love story, the banner over the path that the two main characters continue their journey on; the natural conclusion when people say 'happily ever after'.
Perhaps she's been wrong to view it that way all along. Perhaps marriage is just a tool to peel back the facade meticulously crafted during dating, for nothing remains hidden in marriage. To enforce a commitment that's always existed. To harness the rights it bestows between two individuals. To—
Wanda can list countless facets of marriage, and yet it wouldn’t change the way she feels about you, with or without it. She can change—she has, and marriage can vanish from the world, her love for you would persist unscathed. While every fiber of her being might be judged for her actions, she believes her love can’t be tainted. She’s sure of it. And so, essentially, marriage is—
“...it’s an indemnity.”
It’s not at all what he assumed she’d say. “An indemnity? That's an... interesting choice of word.”
Wanda nods, pushing a stray hair behind her ear with a thoughtful look. “Right. It's like our safety net, not just from what's out there but from our own doubts too. It's us saying to ourselves—and to anyone watching—that no matter how tough things get, we're in it together.  It's a promise that even in the darkest times, we'll stand by each other.”
Vision absorbs her words, trying to see the cracks, the spaces where he could insert doubt or lay the groundwork for his plans. “But don’t you think,” he ventures cautiously, “that sometimes, that very protection, that indemnity, becomes the chain that binds? Don’t you ever feel... trapped?”
Wanda takes a deep breath, sensing the subtext of his question. He has a knack for drawing out the very things she's trying so hard to keep from him. In the end, she still ends up talking about you. If he's truly eager to hear what she has to say about you, then Wanda doesn’t care if he won’t like what he hears.
“I know what you’re trying to do here,” Wanda says with a wry smile. “To assume she's the one trapping me would be a gross misunderstanding.”
He laughs for a long moment. It's loud and over the top, and somewhere in the midst of it, it begins to feel like an insult. Wanda lifts her chin, unfazed by his antics.
After a few moments, Vision's laughter subsides, replaced by a somber look. “I apologize,” he says, even as Wanda goes back to her readings. “I didn’t mean to make light of your feelings. It's just... sometimes I feel like you're still lying to yourself, Wanda.”
Wanda's eyes narrow, her stance firm, but she doesn't rise to the bait immediately.  “How am I lying?”
There it is—his opening.
“Yes. Sometimes, I wonder if you're using these philosophical explanations as a way to protect yourself from confronting something deeper. Something you might not want to face,” he says.
She chuckles, but it's devoid of any real amusement. “And what might that be?”
“That maybe,” Vision says, crawling closer to her until they're just a breath away. “Maybe being with her isn't everything you once believed it to be.”
A retort forms on Wanda's lips, ready to be unleashed. But as she looks into Vision's eyes, she notices something genuine and disarming in them. 
“All I’m saying is that you don’t need to defend yourself around me,” he murmurs, his voice gentle, fingers lightly grazing her cheek. “You don't need to explain yourself. Not about this, not about anything.”
His lips find the curve of her neck, placing a chaste kiss there, sending a shiver down her spine, making her sigh softly. 
“You can enjoy that,” he whispers against her skin, voice husky. His lips move upward, caressing her cheek before they meet hers. His hand slides to her waist, pulling her closer, until she’s on his lap, straddling him. Her skirt rides up her thighs, allowing him easy access to her dampening underwear.
Wanda shifts nervously. “Vision, we're in public,” she whispers sharply, but doesn’t make any move to get away from him.
His lips twitch into a confident smirk. “I know.” His fingers daringly slide beneath the hem of her skirt, edging towards her panties. “Don't worry,” he assures her, “I just wanted to see if your body tells the truth, even if your words might not.”
Her breath catches as his fingers find the growing wetness there. “See?” he murmurs, his mouth twisting into a boyish grin. “Your body doesn't lie.”
She enjoys it. To be brutally honest, without the haunting thought of your reaction if you were to find out, she concedes she savors their meetings. She’s attracted to him and it’s consuming her every thought. 
Wanda blushes furiously, coupled with the fear of being discovered like this, she’s surrendered to this wicked game. He doesn’t worship her like you do. He doesn’t try to make her feel like nothing is her fault the way you do. Why weren’t you disappointed that she couldn’t get pregnant? Couldn’t contribute to your household like equals? Why didn’t you agonize over the financial repercussions of her relentless quest to start a family with you?
Why won’t you ever, ever hate her?
It's twisted that she even thinks of you as she tilts her hips upwards, urging Vision to touch her just right.
Without warning, Vision plunges his long middle finger inside her, causing Wanda to gasp and grip onto him. The intimate intrusion is brief, and she barely has time to process the sensation when he withdraws, pushing her off his lap and onto the soft grass beside him. He holds his glistening finger up to the light, then brings it to his lips, never breaking eye contact with her. She watches, entranced, as he deliberately savors her taste.
Wanda’s chest rises and falls rapidly, every nerve in her body alive and buzzing. She feels exposed, laid bare both by his actions and by the force of her own arousal. There's a delicious humiliation in it, a thrill of being seen and wanted so openly.
But before she can get a chance to speak, Vision reaches into his pocket, producing an envelope thick with cash and hands it to her. She doesn't need to count it to know it's a significant amount.
“What the fuck is this?” Wanda asks, looking down at the cash in her hands.
He laughs again. He enjoys riling her up. Makes this all the more charged and exciting.
“It's for the painting from your old gallery,” Vision explains calmly. “Going back to that, yes, I want to purchase it. And that’s just 50% of my intended offer.”
Wanda reflects on all the support you've offered her, the financial aid you generously extended without ever demanding explanations. A portion of the money in the envelope—her future commission— could be a start, a way to repay some of the debts she owes you, even if it doesn't cover everything.
Not that you’ve ever asked her to pay you back. You’ve never once hinted at any imbalance in financial obligations in your relationship.
“I shouldn't take this,” she mumbles, yet her fingers clutch the envelope a little tighter.
“I want to,” he insists. “Although, I want a special request.”
Wanda's eyebrow arches in skepticism. “Which is?”
“A handwritten dedication from you, when the painting is delivered,” he replies.
She averts her gaze. “I’ll think about it.”
Vision nods. “Keep the money while you do.”
-
Wanda starts leaving the house early too, going to her lover’s apartment before they go to the university together.
Vision sits comfortably on the plush couch, engrossed in his video game, his fingers swiftly moving over the controller. Wanda enters, shrugging off her light jacket, her simple, functional underwear visible from the thin material of her dress.
“You know, Wanda,” he begins casually, “Have you ever considered just... being in your natural state here?”
“What do you mean?” Wanda asks, helping herself to some tea.
“Your body is a work of art,” he replies, pausing the game now and turning to face her fully. “And as someone who appreciates art...” His gaze travels to her current choice of undergarments and back up to her eyes, leaving his sentence hanging.
“Are you suggesting I walk around here naked?”
He grins cheekily. “The thought did cross my mind.”
Wanda's cheeks flush. “That’s not happening.”
“Alright, maybe not that,” he relents with a mock sigh. “But perhaps wear something more... refined? Exquisite?” His emphasis on 'exquisite' draws a clear line between what she currently wears and what he's suggesting. 
She's always prided herself on being confident, knowing her worth. But Vision’s playful, yet sharp suggestion chips away at her armor just a bit. For a split second, she wonders if this is how he truly sees her. If her choice of underwear, something so personal and intimate, is a reflection of her self-worth in his eyes. It's crazy to let his comment get to her; she's aware of that. But she can't help but think of you, of the intimate times you both share, the mornings she finds herself waking up beside you, and the nights you take off her clothes.
Do you notice? She wonders. Do you think the same?
It's all these tiny moments, insignificant on their own, but together they build a narrative in her mind. A story where maybe you don't desire her as you once did. That thought affects her more than Vision's words. The insecurity, an old nemesis she thought she had left far behind, resurfaces.
Wanda forces a nonchalant smile. “Why don't you mind your own business, and focus on your own wardrobe choices?” she retorts, but there's a lack of her usual sharpness in her tone.
He snickers, going back to his game. She hopes you don't see her the way he does. 
-
She buys a new set of lingerie—for you.
-
Wanda decides she’ll do it by the end of the week. Determined to finalize the sale, she picks up the phone while dinner simmers on the stove. With you still out, Sparky remains her only companion, and a pang of guilt strikes her for having neglected him lately.
She dials the gallery. After a few rings, the familiar voice perkily answers. “Hello?”
“Agatha, it's Wanda,” she says. “About the painting I texted you earlier. My buyer is all in.”
“There's already a bid on it,” Agatha interrupts, “with a deposit ready to go. But if you can secure the painting by tomorrow at the latest, it’s yours to sell.”
“Thanks. I'll make it happen.”
Only after hanging up does she understand that she'll need your help to ensure everything goes smoothly. The next morning, she broaches the subject, and, thankfully, doesn’t have to jump through many hoops to convince you. She loathes bending the truth about the gallery's closing hours, but she's pressed to secure the painting promptly.
Of course, you're there for her again. You even go as far as to offer her lunch, but she has to decline; she genuinely has an appointment with the dean. She reluctantly agrees to dinner, already having said yes to Vision to visit the Museum of Modern Art, where he's also set to give her the remaining 50% for the painting.
“We can have dinner,” Wanda proposes tentatively. “Maybe drive to the city for some steaks and a dive bar after?” It’s tiring to drive back and forth like Manhattan isn’t at least one and a half hours away without traffic, but she wants to spend time with you, and thank you for your effort.
“I'll pick you up at seven,” you say. “It's a date.”
She's excited, but deep down she's aware of the tight schedule. It would be nothing short of a miracle if Vision gets her back to Westview on time.
-
Wanda cancels dinner at the last minute. She's relieved that you're amenable and just texts to ask her what time she’ll be home.
-
When she gets her hands on the painting, it takes her a long time to think of a dedication message. Truthfully, writing heartfelt letters has never been her strong suit; she struggles to articulate her feelings. But as she contemplates her feelings for Vision, she draws a blank.  She considers simply thanking him for engaging her in conversations she hasn't had with anyone in so long, conveniently omitting their other indulgences. At the same time, she doesn’t want to leave a piece of herself behind, not even something as trivial as a personal dedication.
So she settles on a quote:
‘To Vision, the only secret people keep is immortality.’  - W
On a particular plane, it speaks to her. It's a phrase that mirrors the fundamental human longing for significance and a sense of purpose—something she has unknowingly let slip along the way.
-
Surprisingly, Vision appears content with the note. Wanda doesn't bother to inquire about his thoughts on it. He doesn't make a spectacle of his appreciation for the painting either, and it becomes apparent that he's indulging in a fantasy from some porno, where an older woman brings him something before he takes her to bed.
The sex is always intoxicating in its own messy way, now that she’s ready to admit she’s not after perfection whenever she comes to him. She doesn’t go to him because there’s something wrong with you. It might be because something is wrong with her, but there isn’t really any room to psychoanalyze her own mental state when she’s being taken from behind, facing a full length mirror. As pleasure builds, her eyes roll back, she briefly toys with the idea that she might be harboring deeper feelings for him. 
Then, out of the blue, a red flash catches her eye, but with two quick blinks, it vanishes.
“What’s that?” Wanda whispers, momentarily distracted before a moan escapes her lips.
“What?” he mutters distractedly, pulling her hair, when her head starts to droop. 
But before Wanda can form a coherent thought, he adjusts, lifting one of her legs and shifting his angle. With a few deliberate thrusts, she's spiraling into an overwhelming climax. And as pleasure washes over her, any lingering thoughts of deeper feelings for him evaporates along with the haze of lust.
Later, she would brush aside the memory of that brief red flash as she stealthily slipped into your shared home, careful not to disturb Sparky, who slept soundly. With a day off scheduled for tomorrow, she had completely lost track of time, fooling around a couple more times with a college kid.
-
“D-Did I hurt you?”
Right this second, Wanda feels like she'd welcome the ground opening up to take her or a random bullet finding its mark in her heart. Anything, if it would end her anguish. 
She watches your face crumple with guilt and hurt, and she can't believe she's caused you to feel this way when you’re just aching for her. 
Without missing a beat, Wanda draws you into an embrace, feeling your heart race against her chest. “No, you didn’t. I shouldn’t have made you feel that way,” she whispers. The mere thought of you second-guessing your intentions with her shatters her heart.
You lean into her completely, feeling like a child in her arms. “I’ve been missing you so much lately, and I thought... I thought we were on the same page.”
Wanda insists it's not your fault. None of this is your fault. She desires closeness with you, but she hadn't expected it to make her feel so uneasy beneath her skin, especially considering she had been touched by another less than 24 hours ago. She has to remind herself that you aren't aware. But she knows, and it plagues her mind, why you’d want to touch her.
Your reply, soaked in typical selflessness, is, “I know. I’m sorry.” 
Your apology, the earnestness in your tone is starting to make her feel dizzy. The fact that you feel this way, that she has led you to question your privilege—something she has always granted you—to touch her, is agonizing.
“Stop saying you're sorry,” Wanda snaps, her words sharper than she intends, fervently hoping that you understand her outburst isn't aimed at you. “You do everything right. It's me. I've missed you too, more than you can possibly imagine.”
When you softly say, “I love you,” it's filled with so much emotion that it brings tears to Wanda's eyes. It takes her too long to respond with an “I love you, too,” because there’s many more she wants to say. And she can’t say it without revealing the one thing that she fears will drive you away. 
She can only hope that you believe her because she means it more than anything.
-
Wanda can't pinpoint exactly when she developed the habit of locking the bathroom door. It likely started around the time Vision would text her, innocently asking about her lectures. Then, one day, she received a short video clip of him pleasuring himself and moaning her name. She promptly deleted the clip, but from that point on, she learned to check her messages at home only when she was about to step into the shower.
-
Natasha visits and something inside Wanda unfurls itself. She becomes hyper-aware of her activities with Vision, how she conducts them and where. Before relocating to New Jersey, you mentioned that Natasha had taken an open-ended break from her job, suggesting she might be ready to leave her old life behind. Still, she’s uneasy when she learns about it too late, and Natasha’s already outside, waiting to be let into the house.
You're still in your office attire, donning a pristine suit that would have captured her attention for the entire evening, if not for the fact that she's on the verge of breaking down at the mere thought of you discovering her affair with Vision.
“Why didn't you tell me she was coming?” she snaps, gesturing at the dinner table set for two and the disorderly state of their living room. Her eyes dart to a stack of her students' reaction papers lying exposed on the coffee table, and the unkempt pillows. To you, it might seem trivial, but to Wanda, every small detail could give away something she'd rather keep private.
“You could've at least warned me,” she continues, her tone reflecting more than just her concerns about dinner and the state of the living room, but you fail to catch it. You try to help, reaching out to straighten the living room, but she's too frazzled. Seeing the frustrated look on your face, she can't help but feel cornered. She hastily scatters the pillows about, her movement nothing short of hysterical. 
Sensing that things might take a worse turn than they should, you make the decision to be the one to step back.
“If it's too much trouble for you, we can just grab dinner elsewhere,” you suggest, struggling not to lose your own patience. 
She can't help but throw you a sharp look, feeling as though your words only made things worse. The mere idea of you and Natasha, alone, maybe sharing stories or opinions about her, feels threatening. But there’s nothing she can do but hope you will veer away from talking about her, that you won’t confide in Natasha how you haven’t had sex in months.
“Fine,” she snaps and quickly retreats up the stairs. “Send my regards to Natasha,” she throws over her shoulder, the guest bedroom door shutting loudly behind her.
She sighs heavily, pressing her back to the door, heart racing. From the window, she sees you walk back to the car, your frustration evident in every step. Natasha looks at you with that questioning glance Wanda knows all too well. She watches as you speak before handing Natasha the car keys.
She gazes up at the ceiling, determined to hold back the tears that are on the verge of spilling. She doesn't want to push you away, but her fear of Natasha, and what might be revealed, leaves her feeling trapped.
-
Out of frustration, she calls Vision, and they meet in his car, about two blocks from their house.
In the cramped confines of the backseat, Vision is quick to slide into her, the condom barely in place before he's thrusting with a fervor.
She peaks once, but not from him being inside her. She's too tense, too tightly wound for that. So Vision, realizing this, drops to his knees to truly bring her over the edge.
-
Later, Wanda lies on her side, every muscle tense, acutely aware of the presence beside her, all the while pretending to be deep in sleep.
“She used to crash at our place almost every week,” you murmur into the stillness.
A hint of irritation passes through Wanda, though she can't really tell why. “What?” she asks, her voice low and weary.
“Natasha,” you specify. “I didn't think to mention it because it was just our norm. She'd drop by unannounced all the time.”
You want to have a conversation about it, to work through this issue. She knows how you’ve been trying to give her space, thinking she hasn’t adjusted yet to life in Westview. You’re always thinking about her. Always putting her needs first above yours.
And Wanda can see how it’s worn you down, how you're starting to doubt your own logical reasoning, and how you're piecing together facts to present your case, hoping for her to be more receptive and listen. She despises the fact that she's putting you through all of this, merely because she's determined to prevent her different worlds from colliding.
She can sense you searching her face, looking for answers, trying to understand the wall she’s erected between you too. It’s so tall now, casting a shadow over both of you. 
“Wands?”
“Baby?” you try again. It seems like it's all you ever do these days. “Please?” 
Wanda resists the urge to turn toward you and pull you into her arms. She knows that if she does, the tears will flow uncontrollably, and she understands that you won't let her keep her troubles to herself. She composes herself, letting out a shuddering sigh.
“We're fine, Y/N. Let's just go to sleep.”
You give into her wishes, because you will always give her what she wants.  She extends her hand, delicately interlocking your fingers with hers. It's the smallest gesture she can manage. She pretends not to hear you, feel you shake, as you cry on your own.
-
She'd planned to watch the movie alone, in the middle of the day. So, when Vision discreetly takes the seat next to her, Wanda stiffens. A few others are scattered in the front rows of the dark theater, chatting softly as they munch on popcorn.
Without turning to face him, she whispers accusingly, “Are you stalking me?”
“I was in the neighborhood and thought I'd catch a movie. Pure coincidence.”
“You hate cinemas,” she counters.
He chuckles softly. “Maybe I'm learning to appreciate them.”
​​She’s about to retort when she feels a gentle touch on her hip. Wanda's muscles tense under his soft fingers as they start tracing the curve of her waist, moving slowly downwards, caressing her thigh. Her breath hitches, and she turns sharply to face him.
“What are you doing?”
Vision just smirks, leaning back in his seat. “Thought you might want to spice up the afternoon.”
Wanda rolls her eyes. “I'm not in the mood, Vision. Hands off.”
His laugh is a bit too loud, drawing “shhhs” and glares from the front row. Seeing him unmoved by the stares, Wanda huffs and stands up, making it clear she's moving seats. As she shimmies past him, Vision's hand snakes out, gripping her wrist. “Stay,” he murmurs, eyes serious. “I promise to behave.”
She hesitates, looking at him skeptically. Finally, with a sigh, she slides back into her seat. For the most part, Vision keeps his promise. They sit in silence, engrossed in the movie, but Wanda can't help but notice Vision's restlessness. Twice, he excuses himself, claiming he needs the restroom. She can't help but wonder what he's really up to, but she refrains from asking. Whatever it is, she's not sure she wants to know.
Later, when they step out of the theater, they're greeted by the aftermath of a rainstorm. Puddles dot the pavement, making it tricky for Wanda in her heels. Vision holds out his hand, and she takes it, especially when she almost trips trying to leap over a particularly large puddle. 
For some reason, she suddenly feels like she's being watched. From the corner of her eye, she spots the black SUV, parked in the same spot as when she arrived at the cinema. But before she can give it more thought, Vision pulls her towards a bookstore, quickly diverting her attention. She brushes off the odd sensation, attributing it to anxiety since the theater she picked is quite far from town.
-
Wanda stares, open mouthed and shocked, as Vision shows her his final project for her course.
It's a charcoal drawing on canvas featuring a nude woman, with only her mouth visible, reclining on a bench. Wanda doesn't need a second glance to realize that the woman in the painting is her. From the curve of her jaw to the birthmark on her left hip and down to the fold of her knees, the resemblance is remarkable. 
There's no way she can allow him to submit this.
His audacity to draw her in such an intimate manner without her consent leaves her momentarily speechless. She briefly wonders what other liberties he’s taken without her permission.
“What the hell is this?” Wanda questions in barely contained rage.
Vision smirks, arrogance dripping from every word. “It's you, obviously. Pretty accurate, don't you think?”
She clenches her fists, anger rising. “You had absolutely no right. This is beyond inappropriate. What were you thinking?”
Leaning against the table, he shrugs nonchalantly. “I was thinking about how hot you were and I wanted to immortalize it.”
She frowns, crossing her arms defensively. “This was private, between us. How could you think it's okay to make it public?”
“I thought you liked when I took control,” he says, stepping closer, his voice dripping with insinuation.
Wanda feels like throwing up. “This isn't a game,” she snaps. “You can't just use our personal moments as fodder for your projects!”
“You never seemed to mind before.”
Wanda replies sharply, “There's a difference between us being together in private and you broadcasting it to the world.”
He squares his shoulders, firming up his stance. “Maybe I wanted them to see.”
“To see what exactly?” Wanda yells, but the fear in her voice is unmistakable. 
“How good we are together,” he says. “Maybe I’m tired of hiding, Wanda. Ever thought of that?”
Wanda's mind races, a thousand thoughts crashing into one another. She's always been able to control the narrative, always had the situation in her grip. But now, Vision's defiance, his blatant challenge, terrifies her. The realization that Vision could, and possibly would, spill their secret terrifies her more than she thought possible. For the first time, she's faced with the real possibility of losing everything she holds dear. Of losing you.
“So, what's it going to be, Professor?” Vision challenges, towering over her in a display of intimidation. “Should I submit this, or maybe...” his voice drops to a whisper, “show it to your wife?”
She grits her teeth, trying to gain some semblance of control. “Destroy it. Now.”
Vision grins, leaning in closer until their faces are inches apart. “Make me.”
“Vis—”
Vision's lips crush down on hers in a fierce, demanding kiss. His hand clamps around the back of her neck, holding her in place as he ravishes her mouth. It’s fervent, consuming, and fueled by a hunger she hasn't felt from him before. Her brain screams at her to resist, to push him away, to regain control of this spiraling situation. She shoves at his chest, her nails digging in, but he doesn't budge. Instead, he deepens the kiss, his tongue demanding entry, which she denies him.
In her mounting frustration, she raises her hand and slaps him hard across the face. Vision barely flinches, his gaze never leaving hers. His determination only fans the flames of her anger further, but beneath it all simmers an irrefutable want. Without a word, Vision's hands descend to her waist, deftly unbuttoning and pushing down her pants and off her legs. She makes quick work of his belt, discarding them recklessly to the side.
As he inches closer, his breath hot on her ear, Vision murmurs, “Say it, Wanda… say 'I want you to fuck me’.”
She can feel the solid length of him pressing against her, and despite her anger, the way he slowly gyrates his hips makes her weak. She draws a shaky breath, the words stuck in her throat. It’s wrong, and he shouldn’t have this much power on her. 
He moves in, his lips trailing down her neck, as his hands find their way around her waist, pulling her in even closer. “Say it,” he murmurs again.
“I want you to... fuck me,” she finally breathes out, her voice breaking into a whiny plea that she would never have believed she could utter, especially under these circumstances. 
His response is immediate. Before she can fully register what's happening, he has her lifted, her back pressed against the wall, her legs wrapped around his waist. With a sharp thrust, he's inside her, filling her completely. While Vision usually found his release before she did, this time was different. She notices he's holding back, which confuses her. Why would he? Especially now. Wanda, lost in the sensation of him inside her, is curious but also a little apprehensive. 
She soon realizes why. His fingers find her clit, rubbing it in a rough, almost painful manner that sends shockwaves of pleasure through her. “Come on,” he urges, almost impatiently, his voice strained.
She feels herself spiraling, the coil inside her tightening. His cock angles and adjusts, targeting her sweet spot, making her clench around him. The slickness between them grows, and his fingers work in tandem with his thrusts, pressing, rubbing, coaxing her closer and closer.
“I'm gonna... I'm coming,” she warns, feeling the walls of her pussy fluttering.
And then she feels it—the unmistakable warmth, the pulsing. Her eyes widen in realization as Vision buries himself deeper, releasing inside her. 
“No!” Wanda screams silently, the sounds failing to escape her throat as the knowledge that he's come unprotected pushes her further into her own climax. Her instinct is to flee, to pull away from him, but Vision's grip is ironclad. He feels her panic and responds with more pressure on her clit, manipulating the nub with determined fingers. Each stroke sends her further into ecstasy, locking her in place as his other arm wraps around her waist, preventing any escape.
“Stay,” he murmurs into her ear, his voice filled with a possessiveness that she's never heard before. As he continues to spurt inside her, their hips still weakly grinding against one another, the reality of the situation dawns on her. He didn't use protection. He could—he could get her—
Terror claws at Wanda's insides. Was this all premeditated? Had he planned to trap her like this? She struggles to pull away, but Vision holds her even tighter, keeping her pressed against him as the last of his release fills her. He languidly rests his forehead against Wanda's shoulder, taking a moment to revel in the afterglow. When he finally dares to look at her, he expects to see anger or fury or maybe even forgiveness. Instead, he's met with wide, bloodshot eyes swimming with tears that violently spill over, tracing the contours of her cheeks.
His smugness dissipates and his brow furrows in confusion. “Wanda?”
She chokes on her tears, desperately trying to speak. “Did you—did you do this on purpose?” Using every ounce of strength she can summon, she pushes him away, stumbling slightly as her legs threaten to give out. Hastily, she starts grabbing her clothes.
Vision, looking lost for once, reaches out, but she recoils away from his touch.
“Don’t you fucking touch me!”
“Wanda, please. Let's talk about this.”
As Wanda attempts to regain her balance, she can feel the telltale wetness slide down her inner thighs. The physical evidence of their tryst, the proof of Vision's seed making its way out of her, sends a sharp pang of revulsion through her. Her hand moves instinctively, trying to wipe away the residue, a feeble attempt to erase the aftermath—or perhaps the entirety of their history. Her vision blurs as tears continue to stream down her face, her breathing jagged. Vision, looking both remorseful and lost, reaches out in an attempt to console her, but she flinches at the barest contact of his fingertips.
“Please, at least let me drive you to—”
“To where?�� she spits out, her voice mocking. “Home? To my...? I can't—not now.”
Vision's eyes widen, and suddenly he looks much younger.
“Wanda,” he starts, voice shaky and eyes beginning to tear up, “I'm so sorry. I didn't mean... I didn't think… I-It’ll never happen again.”
But the pitiable sight of him, looking scared and unsure, only adds fuel to the fire. “You think a simple 'sorry' is enough?”
The door is her escape, and she's quick to reach it. As she’s about to leave, he whimpers, almost begging, “Please don't go. I... I'm sorry.”
But she's done. With one final, withering glance, she exits, leaving the door to swing shut behind her. 
-
While Wanda waits for her period to come, she can't focus on anything else. She feels disoriented during the day, and it keeps her awake at night. 
In her world, everything's spiraling into a fragmented mess, like a vintage vinyl record that's been smashed to bits. 
She tosses out reading assignments like candy at a twisted parade, tells the kids to scribble down essays. For them, it's almost like a holiday. For Wanda, it's a desperate lifeline. By the window, she stands. Watching. Waiting. But not really seeing anything. Vision's eyes, burning into her, but she never meets his gaze. She hasn't been responding to his texts or calls, discarding them immediately without even opening them. The classroom exit strategy is always the same: blend in with the herd, avoid the predator. She doesn't give him even the slightest opportunity to get her alone.
Home should be her fortress. Instead, it's like quicksand. Sparky, always eager for her attention, brings toys to her feet, his tail wagging in hopeful anticipation. But her patience is thin, and she finds herself shooing him outside, much to the dog's confusion. She's been bringing home takeout repeatedly, and the repetition isn't lost on you. While you never openly complain, she notices when you start to take the reins, cooking dinner, a quiet acknowledgment of her current state.
She waits and waits—a ghost haunting a lover, a home, a school, a town, waiting for salvation.
-
She’s more than a week late for her period when she (terrifyingly) decides to buy a pregnancy test kit. Wanda clutches her coat tighter around herself, hesitating for a moment before pushing the door open. Inside, she avoids making eye contact, moving purposefully towards the aisle she's dreading. As her fingers wrap around a pregnancy test kit, her heart hammers in her chest. With the box safely tucked inside her bag, she hurries back home, sneaking glances over her shoulder, feeling as though the world knows her secret.
When she arrives home, she pretends as if she had simply stopped by the grocery store. She musters a smile as she begins to prepare dinner, maintaining a light and cheerful conversation with you. You savor her food as if it were your last meal, showering her with compliments like a discerning food critic, which brings a slight chuckle from Wanda. You peck her lips when you’re finished, thanking her for it. For a while, it seems like everything is back to normal, and that nothing will shatter the illusion that she’s still living her happily-ever-after with you.
She waits, counting the minutes, ensuring you're deep in sleep before she tiptoes into the bathroom. She reads the instructions multiple times, her eyes scanning over each word as if hoping they'd change. It's as though she hasn’t been through this ritual numerous times before, back when her deepest desire was to bear your child. The irony isn't lost on her: in just a few months, she's transitioned from yearning for a baby to fervently hoping she isn't pregnant.
Finally gathering enough courage, she rips the packaging. Just get it over with, Wanda muses. The minutes that follow feel like hours. The silence is suffocating, the potential consequences bearing down on her. She jumps at the slightest noise, every creak of the floorboards or rustle of sheets convincing her that you've woken up.
The alarm on her phone finally goes off, signaling that it's time. With bated breath, she looks down at the test, her world teetering on the brink of change.
-
She’s hidden the pregnancy test deep in the trash bin, concealed under tissues and other refuse. It’s the middle of the night, and she ensured it is further out of sight by taking the trash outside.
As the initial relief floods through her, it is swiftly replaced by a profound sense of shame. She sits curled up on the couch, hugging her knees, desperately wishing to escape from herself and her crimes. She realizes, with a piercing clarity, that she can't compartmentalize or keep secrets when it comes to you, because you're not just a part of her life—you are her life. The mere thought of you finding out fills her with a terror so profound, she's left gasping for breath. She'd rather face any consequence, even death, than watch the love fade from your eyes, replaced by hurt, anger, and betrayal.
She loves you, but Wanda doesn’t—she doesn’t know what to do, how to move forward. 
But in the midst of her life falling apart, an unexpected sentiment finds its way to the forefront: hope. 
A fragile, quivering kind of hope. Wanda's lips twitch, trembling as they pull into a weak smile. Maybe the universe is giving her a second chance. Maybe her not being pregnant is a sign, a way out. It's as if fate is holding out a lifeline, imploring her to take it and mend the fractures in her life. With renewed determination, she silently promises herself that she'll devote every bit of her being to you. She knows she can't change the past, but she believes, fervently, in the possibility of a future where she remains true, where she will never stray again.
Still, the weight of her deeds anchors her to the couch, each sob a violent reminder that she's the villain in her own story. And that’s how you find her, in the dark living room, crying and blaming a nonexistent movie for being in such a mess.
“Wanda?”
She looks up and every cell in her body threatens to crumble. “Hey, baby,” she murmurs, her fingers brushing away the tears.
“Have you been crying?”
“Just a movie,” she lies still, “You know how emotional they make me.”
You smile, your eyes full of that nurturing love. “My big crybaby.” Wanda can't believe a pregnancy scare was what it took to finally wake her up.
Looking into your eyes, a surge of need overtakes her. She longs to claim you, to solidify her stake, and leave no doubt in your mind about where her heart truly lies. She wants to show you just how much she loves you, to make up for all the times she has strayed. 
She doesn't hesitate. Before she fully processes her actions, she's on top of you, her weight pinning you down, her eyes blazing with an intensity that threatens to consume. “Take off your shorts,” her voice trembles. Your obedient response sends a thrill through her, but she's barely registered the progress you've made before she's swiping a teasing finger, tasting the essence that's uniquely yours. She watches, entranced, as a shiver runs through you, your voice shaky with desire. 
“Patience, baby.” 
She barely shakes her head, lips parted. “Don't have any.”
And then she's tasting you, each slow, deliberate stroke of her tongue designed to drive both of you mad. Your body responds fervently, and she can sense your need building, mirroring her own desperate longing. “Please, Wanda, more…” Your whisper is a plea she can't resist. Her lips part to take in more of you, savoring the intoxicating flavor that she had missed so much. 
“I've missed you so much, Y/N,” she says, deliriously lost in your pleasure. “I've missed making you feel good. Missed feeling this way with you…” She doesn't quite realize the hints she's dropping, but she doesn't care. This moment is real, and she wants it to be as honest as it can be.
Lifting your legs, Wanda applies gentle pressure, pushing them back until they're almost touching the couch cushions on either side of your head. The sight of you, so openly displayed for Wanda, sends a rush of heat and desire through her core. She can feel the power she has, not just from the position but from the trust placed in her to have you in such a vulnerable state. It feels so good, being this close to you. How could she have ever desired anything else when she had this all along?
Wanda pauses for a moment, mouth watering, her eyes hungrily tracing the sight before her. She senses a slight shift, seeing your eyes flit away, perhaps overwhelmed. But Wanda can't allow that retreat. Gently cradling your face, she guides those eyes she loves back, sealing their return home to her with a tender, grounding kiss.
“I love you,” she breathes against your lips.
You smile up at her. “I love you. More than you could ever know.”
Wanda shuts her eyes, letting your reassurance wash over her. Nothing lasts forever, but perhaps this could be an exception.
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lemonszesty · 4 months
Note
hewwo lemon ¤(▪︎u▪︎¤) i hope you're well ♡
could i please get a shot with Kakashi amd reader - and the scenario being that the both of them have taken to smooch through the mask - but one day takes it off last second to actually smooch his beloved, reader ? cute lil first kiss ? >:3c thank u in advance and take ur time ♡♡
-B☆
coming home to you, k. hatake
A/N: B pls know that this sent me into a wanting to smooch kakashi spiral i hope u enjoy <3 (hope this is a nice pick-me-up from all ur work!! no rush to read) thank u for waiting so long for this x GENRE: fluff WARNINGS: none PROMPT: First time kissing Kakashi without a mask WORD COUNT: 1.2k
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Your apartment was filled with the sound of your soft humming, dinner cooking slowly on the stove. It was way too much for one person, ensuring that leftovers were going to be your meal for tomorrow as well as you never quite figured out how to cook for just one person. Normally, Kakashi never failed to finish whatever it was you made for dinner that night, leftovers never being a matter of concern when he was home, but he was called away for a mission- one that left you wondering just how long he'd be away.
Sparing a glance to the sticky note placed haphazardly on your calendar, it had been just over a week since your partner had left for his latest mission. A dull thrum made your heart ache, missing him despite knowing there were times that his work took priority over his personal life. It didn't make it any easier, not by any means, but his dedication to the village was just one of the many things that you had loved about him. Knowing that you were there for him, that as long as you were here Kakashi would have someone to come home to, kept your heart strong, helped you push through the days where you missed him a little more than usual.
Stirring your pot once more, not letting your food burn as your mind wanders, you look around your shared home. It was a sizeable place, one that felt positively massive when your partner was gone. You found solace in his signs of life, his personal bookshelf that the living room housed, his extra pouch of kunai sitting on the TV stand even though you asked him to keep it somewhere safer. Even the extra pair of shoes by the door, ones you purposefully placed out while he was gone just so your shoes felt a little less lonely by the front door.
It was the little things that helped you power through, like never failing to finish reading one of the books he recommended while he was away so that you would always have something new to talk about by the time he returned.  You were almost finished with his latest recommendation, the novel this time a little spicier than his previous recommendations. It certainly had many things, many preferences, that you wanted to ask your lover about-
"Boo."
A large hand covering your eyes startled you, arm swinging out reflexively despite the familiar voice in your ear. You squeal, a smile bursting onto your face when a familiar hand catches your defensive reaction. A clothed kiss is pressed to your neck and arms wrap around your waist once your attack is subdued. Silver hair tickles your cheek, Kakashi's arms loosening just enough for you to spin around and hug him.
His soft chuckle rings clear through your bones, the way his hands tug slightly at your clothes to pull you closer making your knees weaken. A nudging feeling at the back of your legs clues you in that some of his dogs have come out, almost as happy as the shinobi is to see you.
After a long embrace, your hands move to cup his cheeks, thumbs stroking the soft material of his mask as you beam up at him, "You're back sooner than I thought."
Your partner hums, an eyebrow quirking up at you, "What, you want to get rid of me again?"
Shaking your head, you laugh, rising to the tips of your toes to kiss his clothed lips, soaking in the feeling of kissing him, "No, of course not."
The feeling of fabric against your skin was nothing new, something you accepted openly when you two started dating. You loved him, respecting his boundaries came second nature to you. It would be a lie if you said you never had wondered what his lips felt like, having only the occasional glimpse of his face in the early mornings or late, late evenings, but you felt lucky enough to bear witness to any of his vulnerabilities not to question or push him on the subject.
So when Kakashi pulls you in, one of his hands tangling in your hair as he murmur's, "'S not enough right now," the last thing you expected was to feel the softness of his lips press against your own as he kisses you again.
You gasp slightly, hands cautiously cupping his face once more to feel the softness of his skin, taking extra care of where his scar ran under his eyes. He groans into your lips, hand tightening slightly in your hair to keep you close to him. Your stomach flips when his tongue brushes against your lips, his breath hot and heavy against your skin.
With his mask resting securely under his chin, Kakashi's spare hand traces along your spine, embracing you as close as he could to you as he lets his mouth explore your own. "Missed you," he mutters against your lips, his voice heavy with desire, soft words of I'm home, missed you, need you being whispered in between kisses.
Your hands fall to grip the material of his shirt, feeling the strong muscle of his chest under the thin material of his uniform. "I'm here," you breathe back, nearly collapsing at the groan your words pull from him.
"I'll always," he pulls back just enough for his forehead to rest against your own, taking a moment to catch his breath, "Always come back to you." Another kiss is pressed to your lips, lingering but not quite as long as you wished, finding yourself trying to chase his lips as he leans back, "I can't promise," another heavy breath leaves him, "But trust that everything I do, every choice I make, is to come back home to you."
Your eyes meet his own, seeing the soft vulnerability in his eyes and nodding your head, "I know, don't worry 'kashi. I know."
His head dips down once more, softer than before, letting the warmth of his mouth coax you into another kiss. 
The two of you remained like that, lost in each other, until the feeling of pawing pulled you away. Kakashi looked at his dogs sternly, clearly unhappy to have your attention taken away from them, muttering, "your dinner can wait, needy bastards," while refusing to loosen his grip on you.
In an attempt to satiate your partner, an apologetic hand pats his cheek softly. "We have all night to catch up, okay?" Leaning up to kiss the corner of your mouth, the sigh he gives as a response letting a light laugh escape you, "We can eat together, make everyone happy, okay?"
There's a warmth in his eye as he looks at you, pink dusting his cheeks as he lets his forehead rest against your one. His headband is cool against your skin, contrasting the warmth of his breath tickling your lips.
"Yeah, okay," he breathes, not letting you go until his lips find yours just once more.
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fannyspammy · 10 months
Text
Kiss Me, You Idiot
Adam Warlock x Reader
Summary: You’re Adam’s first kiss.
Warnings: no warnings, just fluff :) (if you’re looking for something spicier I’ll be getting into the more heated firsts soon so stay tuneddd 👀)
A/N: second part to the Firsts series! I didn’t expect the first part to get so much activity so quickly! Thank you everyone for reading 🥺 If you haven’t read it yet, part one is here! Can be read as a oneshot tho :)
[not my gif]
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It had been a month since Adam had discovered what romantic feelings felt like, & a month since he & y/n had become an item. Adam was a gentleman; he’d never do anything to make y/n uncomfortable. He was sweet & patient, & she could tell how much he cared for her from how protective he was, & from the way he was attentive to her every need. Adam loved spending time with y/n, & he was content with the nature of their relationship.
Y/n on the other hand, while appreciative of his respect for her, was a little more… experienced in the world. And while she liked that they were taking things slow, she was beginning to crave more.
They’d been together for a month now, although they technically hadn’t put a label on it (she wasn’t sure he knew what a label was, anyway, so they were simply together as far as she was concerned), so it had also been a month since y/n first imagined kissing her golden boy. Well, maybe a bit more than a month, since she’d definitely wanted to kiss him before she even knew he liked her. How could she not?
But she was beginning to question whether he wanted to kiss her. They cuddled often, coming to their spot to be alone & get away from the crowds, but that was always where it stopped.
She tried a few times to initiate it, placing quick pecks on his cheek or his hands to show she wanted more physical affection. Adam would match her actions, planting gentle kisses to her temple or her palms, maybe even the top of her head, but he would never go further.
Adam had a cheerful grin on his face when y/n opened the door, a small metal box in his hands, fastened with a thin piece of twine.
“For you!” he announced, extending his arm to present his gift, body bent into a slight bow.
Y/n giggled at the exaggerated gesture. “Why, thank you, sir.” She curtsied.
Adam closed the door behind him before scurrying to y/n’s side, peering over her shoulder as she pulled at the twine securing the lid of the box. Y/n’s eyes widened with awe as she lifted the delicate gold chain from its metal home, a solitary yellow gem dangling at the bottom of its curve.
“Adam! It’s beautiful!” she said, turning to face him.
Adam was biting his lip in excitement, hands behind his back, rocking back and forth on his heels. “You like it?”
“I love it! But where did you get it? How did you afford this?”
He shrugged. “I pulled some strings & had it custom made. I wanted it to look like me, so that even when I’m not there I’m… well I’m still there with you.”
Y/n threw her arms around his neck & his arms wrapped around her waist almost instinctively. “Thank you so much!”
They stayed in each other’s embrace for a moment, and he slid one hand up to the base of her neck to pull her closer.
Then, slowly, they began to pull away. Y/n looked up at him through her lashes, their faces mere inches apart, silently praying that he would finally close the gap.
Kiss me, you idiot!
Adam spun her around & she yelped at the sudden movement.
“Here, let me help you put it on!”
He gently moved her hair out of the way so he could access her neck. As he fumbled with the lock, y/n couldn’t hold in her question any longer.
“Adam, why won’t you kiss me?”
She felt him freeze behind her.
“Huh?”
“Why won’t you kiss me? It’s been a month & you haven’t even tried!” She turned to face him again, brows furrowed & her lips in a pout. “Do you not want to?”
“Y/n! Of course I want to!” He grabbed her face gently, rubbing her cheek with his thumb.
“Then why haven’t you?”
Adam hesitated before answering. He slid his hands down from her face, past her shoulders, all the way to her hands. He pulled her arms behind him, & she locked her fingers as he brought his own hands behind her waist. Looking away, he sighed.
“I’m nervous to. I know I’m not the first guy you’ve been with, but you’re the first girl I’ve been with— that I’ve even wanted to be with.” He returned his gaze to her. “So I guess I just- well I don’t really know if I- I just.. I want it to be good for you. But I don’t know if I’ll be good at it.”
Y/n smiled. She had the most genuine man in the galaxy.
Bringing a hand up to his face, y/n ran her thumb along Adam’s lower lip.
“Adam, it’ll be good because it’s you.” She brought her face closer to his, & he lightly took the tip of her thumb between his teeth. “Besides, even if you aren’t good at it, you’ll have a lot of opportunities to practice.”
“Yeah?”
Y/n smirked. “Yeah. I’ll even give you daily lessons if you want.”
“Promise?” Adam dipped his head into the crook of her neck, placing wet kisses along its base and up to her jaw.
Y/n moaned softly, enjoying his touch.
“Promise.”
Clasping her chin he tilted her head so their lips could finally meet.
The kiss was gentle and sweet. Just like him. Then he deepened it, pulling her closer to him, moving in sync. Y/n parted her lips slightly, swiping her tongue along his bottom lip.
Adam was a fast learner, slipping his tongue into her mouth at just the right capacity. Soon, their tongues were at a steady wrestle, the sound of their moans filling the air as they enjoyed the pleasurable contact.
Finally pulling away for breath Adam looked at y/n, intensely at first, as if reading her. Then with a playful smirk he leaned in for one more kiss, soft & lingering. Pulling her bottom lip between his teeth he pulled away slowly, watching it plump at his release.
“How’d I do?”
Y/n bit her lip, the one that was just in his mouth, still feeling the sensation of his touch.
“Mm, might need to do a little more research first.” she replied, pressing her lips against his again.
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reysdriver · 6 months
Text
Bondage | P.P.
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Day 2 of Kinktober: Bondage — peter x fem!reader smut
warnings: 18+, Minors DNI - smut, inappropriate use of Spider-Man webs, fingering, oral (female receiving), mentions of hair pulling
words: 0.6k
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“Is that too tight?” Peter asked you from across the room, from where he had just webbed your hands to the top of your bed frame. 
“No.” You responded honestly. “It’s perfect.”
He started making his way over to the bed, then paused once he sat next to you. “So you’re sure?”
You sighed. “Of course.”
“And you remember what to do if you want me to stop?”
“Yes, Peter.” You sounded exasperated, because you were. Peter’s always been too nice for his own good, it was why he became Spider-Man. But now, his big heart was getting in the way of your sexual experimentation and it was tiring. 
“Okay, I’m sorry, I just worry a lot. I love you.” 
“I know you do, that’s why I want to do this with you.”
You both smiled at each other, and he dove in to kiss you. He did it slowly and sweetly, which you knew was because he didn’t want to be too rough with you. That would change with enough convincing, but you just kissed him back the same for now. 
As you two kept making out, Peter’s hands moved farther and farther down your sundress. Even though you had been planning this for a few nights, you were just in normal clothes because despite Peter being a genius at most things, you didn’t quite trust him to figure out lingerie with your hands tied up. 
As his fingers reached the hem of your dress, he hooked his fingers around the sides of your underwear. Then, he pulled his lips off of yours and looked up at you. 
“Still ready?” He asked. 
You nodded. “I mean, I don’t know how I’ll fare without being able to pull on your hair, but…”
“Well, you could replace the hair pulling with something else. Maybe you could be as loud as you want now that I don’t live with Aunt May anymore.”
You smirked as he pulled your panties off of you. “I think I will try that.”
He slowly slid his middle finger over your slit. “You’re already wet.” He commented.
“For you? Always.”
He smiled, then leaned down again to press a little kiss to your clit. It started out short and sweet, then he kept going, heated and sloppy. You let out a moan, which encouraged him to keep going. His mouth movements kept getting more intense, and your breaths got heavier. 
With enough reaction from you, Peter made the moment ever spicier by fitting a slender finger inside of you. 
You made another sound, the lewdness of which rivalled only by the sound Peter’s finger made when pumping his finger inside of you. He added another, and it just felt even better. 
“You’re still doing okay, babe?” He asked to confirm. 
“So good, Pete.” You replied breathily. “I’m almost there.” 
He smiled, then brought his mouth back to your heat to guide you to your climax. He kept going in the way he knew was your favourite, and even though you couldn’t tug on his brown hair like you usually did, you motivated him by moaning as loudly as you could without your neighbours hearing. 
And there it was, you felt yourself release around his fingers. You let out a string of whimpers as Peter kept softly kissing your core. 
“Did you like that?” He asked quietly, moving his face out from between your legs. 
“Yeah. Did you?”
“I still like when you pull on my hair when we do that.”
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moviesismylife · 2 months
Text
Cabin shenanigans
(Bat boys x f!reader)
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Summary:
Where a game of “truth or strip” with the bat boys at the cabin, leads to a bit more…
Warnings:
18+, SMUT, oral giving!receiving, shower $ex
Mentions of alcohol
Nudity
Tropes
Poly!bat boys
Friends w benefits
Note:
Aaahhh this is my first time writing smut, so please be kind🙏🏼. I LOVE reading poly bat boys fics, like just being worshipped by all of them😩. Living my fantasy out. Also it’s mostly just reader being absolutely spoiled by them;)
Enjoy x
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Y/n
I take a sip of my drink as I lounge on one end of the couch.
“Why don’t we do something more exciting?” Cassian suggest from where he sits in an arm chair across from me.
“Like what Cass?” Rhys asks looking at him questionably.
He’s sitting on the other end of the couch I’m in, also drink in hand.
“Like truth or dare” he suggests.
“That’s so boring” I whine.
“Yeah I agree with y/n. Isn’t there something a bit more…spicier?” Azriel asks from where he’s also sitting in an arm chair.
Me, Cassian and Rhys all raise our eyebrows at him, as he isn’t exactly the one to suggest these kind of things.
“What did you have in mind Az…” Rhys questions him.
“I don’t know…like maybe…dare or…strip?” He suggests.
I choke on my drink, and Cassian is just grinning widely. Of course he is. Rhys is smirking a little.
“Did you say strip?” I ask for confirmation.
“What? Are you a coward y/n?” Cassian asks me, raising his eyebrow.
I throw a pillow at him, and the other two just snicker.
“Fine I’m in” I say, chugging the rest of my drink.
Then I refill it to the top. I’m gonna need a lot of alcohol if I’m gonna be able to not get flustered.
“Okay I start” Cassian says.
“Rhys I dare you to fly around the mountains utterly naked…or strip” he smirks at Rhys.
“I do not wanna get up right now…so I guess I’ll have to lose something” Rhys answers as he puts his glass down.
Then he moves to remove his shirt, leaving him bare chested. He could have removed anything else. Seriously?
My gaze drops to his muscular torso covered in Illyrian tattoos.
“You’re drooling y/n” Cassian says, and I close my mouth that has unintentionally dropped wide open.
“Fuck you Cass” I say, flipping him off.
“It’s alright darling. Nothing you haven’t seen before right?” Rhys asks me and I roll my eyes at him.
Again he chuckles.
“Okay my turn. Cassian I dare you to…make out with Azriel” I say smirking at him.
“Say less” Cassian says as he heads over to Az and grabs his face to smash their lips together.
Azriel tumbles back but Cassian goes all the way in. I see how incredibly hungry the kiss is. Cassian is devouring him.
“Okay that’s good Cass. Looks like Az has had enough” Rhys comments.
I just smile to myself and take another sip of my drink.
As Cassian finally pulls away, Azriel seems very shocked and flustered. But not surprised. Cassian has been obsessed with him for years.
“Y/n let me ask you one” Azriel says, directing his attention to me.
“Alright” I say, putting my glass down.
“I dare you to tell us who you find the most attractive out of the three of us” he finishes.
“That is cruel” I say, narrowing my eyes at him.
“It’s the game. Do it or strip” he shrugs.
I can’t answer this question. Simply because I do not know the answer. I’ve known them since I was a child. And I find all of them equally attractive.
I don’t say anything as I just remove my socks.
All three of the boys give me an annoyed look, and I quirk an eyebrow at them.
“What?” I ask.
They don’t even answer.
“I removed a piece of clothing didn’t I?” I say knowingly before taking a large sip of my drink again.
“Alright sweetheart. Let me ask you another” Rhys says as he looks at me.
“It’s Azriel’s turn” I protest.
“I’ll do it after you” Azriel says, as I curse him for letting Rhys ask me another.
I turn my attention back to Rhys and he gives me a slight smile.
“I dare you to take off your sweater” he smirks knowingly.
“What? That’s not fair. You’re cheating” I whine as the others just grin at me.
“Do it or take off another piece of clothing” Cassian tells me, and I roll my eyes again.
So I decide to just take off my sweater, leaving me in my bra and sweatpants.
Now it’s their time to gawk. All their eyes trail over my chest, and my lace black bra.
“Hey eyes up here dickheads” I snap at them.
They live their gazes up to meet mine and I can’t help but blush a little.
“Alright Az…I dare you to…leave a hickey on Rhys’s neck” I say with a mischievous smile.
Rhys seems every eager to this dare, but Azriel just takes his shirt off instead. Now he is also bare chested. Just great.
——————
I am now only in my underwear and so are the three Illyrian males.
“I say we stop here, before it goes too far” I suggest, as I don’t need them to see me naked.
Cassian has the audacity to whine, and I roll my eyes at him.
“Why don’t we go out in the snow instead?” Rhys suggest and I just look at him weirdly.
“It’s freezing” I say.
Azriel just smiles smugly. Then Cassian grins as well.
They all look at each other, communicating somehow before they turn to me.
“What. You’re scaring me” I question them all.
Then Cassian moves over to me, lifting me up under my arms. Rhys moves forward and grabs a hold of my legs and I immediately protest.
I kick my feet and slap my hands in the air, but they don’t seem to even notice.
Then they walk me outside into the dark cold and throw me into the snow. Azriel following close behind.
“Fuck!” I yell as the ice cold snow hits my skin. I immediately get up to rid myself of it, but I’m already soaked in it. Even my hair.
“You bastards. You’re so dead” I say as I lean down to make a snowball.
As they notice I do this, they start to make their own.
I throw mine right at Rhys’s chest, and he looks at me wickedly. Fuck.
Then I’m bombarded with snowballs hitting me, as I run away screaming.
“No fuck- stop- I’m sorry- don’t- please” I manage to get out in attempts to run away.
I don’t notice Azriel as he wraps his large arms around my middle, lifting me up.
“No…Az…” I warn him, but then Cassian smashes a snowball onto my head.
I let out a moan of pain. That makes them stop what they’re doing immediately.
Then Azriel lets me down, but keeps his hands on my bare stomach.
“I’m not staying out here, it’s fucking freezing” I say as I manage to get out of his grip, and run inside the cabin again.
I hear several footsteps following me inside, as I head into the sauna.
I perch myself on one of the benches on the second step and close my eyes at the heat.
Then I hear a door opening, and immediately smell their intoxicating scents.
They all settle beside, in front, and behind me. Then I open my eyes.
Cassian is at my right side. Rhys is in front of me, his back facing my legs. And Azriel is behind me, his legs spread out beside my frame. Making my upper body stay trapped in between his strong calves.
“Hello princess” Cassian says as he tucks some hair behind my ear.
“Hello Cass” I answer him nonchalantly.
He moves his fingers from my ear, down to my shoulder, and then down my arm, along my sides resting it at my bare thigh.
I close my eyes again, trying to not pay too much attention to the three muscular Illyrians sitting around me.
Suddenly I feel a few fingers in my hair, playing with some strands. Azriel.
I lean my head back to give him more access. And he immediately takes it. He starts to rub at my scalp, massaging it. That earns him another moan from me. But one of relief.
Again all of them freeze in time, like they’ve seen death.
I open my eyes yet again, to find them all staring at me.
Rhys has turned his head around and is gawking at me. I can feel Cassian’s piercing stare from beside me. And Azriel’s gaze I can always feel. But also the fact that his hands have stopped moving.
“What is it? Why’d you stop Az?” I question him, as I turn my head around to look at him.
“You need to stop making those sounds” he says sternly.
“What sounds” I ask genuinely confused.
“Those moans of yours darling. They’re insufferable” Rhys says from in front of me.
I turn my face to him.
“It felt nice. Azriel’s hands” I clarify.
“I bet they felt extremely nice” Cassian says grinning.
I turn to him this time.
“What do you mean Cass?” I ask him innocently.
He starts to move his hand on my thigh, higher, very fucking slow.
“I mean y/n. That if you’re going to make those beautiful sounds. You shouldn’t be surprised by what that does to us” he explains, his gaze darkening with hunger.
As his hand reaches my inner thigh, right where my hip meets the top, I draw in a sharp breath.
I feel something in my stomach heating at his touch.
“What do you mean” I repeat, even though it’s not really a question.
“Look down” he answers with a sly smirk, and I do.
I look right down to his huge boner. Fuck me. He’s hard as steel. From one little moan from me?
I can’t help but gawk at it, my mouth falling open, and my lips parting. I feel my mouth dry out, at the look of it. I can’t even see his cock, but I know it’s big, from his undershorts.
“You gonna take care of that darling?” Rhys asks from, still in front of me, his hand now slowly up my other leg.
Azriel’s hand has started to move down the side of my face, towards my neck.
I choke on my spit.
“I uhm…what…I thought we were just…I should go to bed” I manage to get out, sprinting to my feet.
But as I hit the floor, Rhys wraps an arm around my waist, pulling me down onto his lap. Right onto his own hard erection. What the actual fuck.
My back is in touch with his chest, and my hands go to his thighs as a reaction to steady myself.
Then his nose moves to brush against my neck and ear, and he leans in to whisper lowly.
“Where do you think you’re running off to?”
I don’t even answer him, as his mouth trails over the sensitive skin of my neck.
I let out a moan again. But this time of pleasure.
“Fuck y/n. I said stop doing that” Azriel groans form behind us.
“She can’t help it Az. My mouth feels to good on her skin” Rhys answers him.
Then out of instinct, I turn around, grounding myself on Rhys’s lap, my thighs draping over his own, and my hands curving around his neck.
He lets out a breath of surprise, but places his palms on my hips anyways.
Then I lean down to his mouth, so that they’re brushing against his barely.
“I really should go to bed…” I whisper.
“You’re not going anywhere love” he whispers back, before smashing his lips onto mine.
I smirk as I kiss him roughly back, my hands immediately tangling in the base of his hair.
I roll my hips into his, and he lets out a feral growl.
“Fuck y/n…”
I let out a moan myself, our mouths parting slightly.
But he pushes my hips forward, repeating the action, earning another moan from both of us.
As I keep grinding my hips into his, I throw my head back, my mouth falling open.
He takes that as an opportunity to smash his lips onto my neck, sucking and biting at my skin.
“Fuck Rhys…” I moan slightly as he leaves a love bite on my neck.
“My name sounds so good coming from your lips darling…” he speaks into the skin of my neck, as he continues to leave marks.
As Rhys devours me, my hips still moving into his, I open my eyes to meet Cassian’s gaze.
He’s eyeing me with hunger. His expression says nothing but lust, and he tilts his head to look at me properly.
I keep eye contact with him, as he moves slowly towards me and Rhys. He settles down on the bench beside us, his right coming in touch with both of ours.
With that Rhys withdraws from my neck and turns his head to the side to see Cassian.
“Couldn’t wait could you Cass?” Rhys asks him.
“I want my name to roll of her tongue as well…” he answers keeping his gaze on me.
My arms are still draped around Rhys’s neck, my fingers playing with his hair. Rhys is now rubbing soothing circles on my waist unconsciously.
“Then you’re gonna have to put that mouth to other use Cassian” I speak up, and both their gazes snap to me.
“You sure you’d want that princess?” Cassian quirks an eyebrow at me.
I roll my eyes at him, and move his hand to my thigh. Rhys just smiles knowingly.
“Why don’t you get comfy on Rhys’s lap sweetheart?” Cassian asks me as he moves off the bench.
I do as he says, and turn around again, my back facing Rhys’s chest. Cassian moves to the ground in front of me, kneeling in between me and Rhys’s thighs.
I feel two large hands wrap around my waist, holding me tightly. I lean my head back into Rhys’s neck, and he gives my cheek a loving kiss.
Then I feel Cassian’s hands trail up my legs smoothly. My own hands move to Rhys’s on my waist, clasping them on top of his.
The hands on my legs move further up, tracing the inside of my thighs. I inhale a sharp breath.
Then one of Cassian’s hands traces the outline of my underwear, and I whimper.
“Shh darling…Cassian hasn’t even started yet” Rhys says comfortingly into my ear.
Then Cassian pulls back, tying his hair up in a bun. Cauldron boil me.
My legs instantly spread wider as a response and he grins widely.
“You’re gonna have to remove this pretty little thing” Rhys says again, as he moves a hand to my underwear.
I only lift my hips in response and Rhys drags them right off me and onto the floor.
Cassian’s mouth drops open, and he stares.
“Cauldron you have a beautiful cunt. And it’s already so drenched” he speaks as he moves closer.
His hands land on my thighs, keeping my legs wide apart. And then his tongue latches onto my slick folds.
I throw my head back into a loud moan, as he drags his tongue through them.
“You taste so good…” he growls into my wet cunt, and I grab into Rhys’s hands.
Rhys just kisses my neck in response, leaving even more love marks.
Then Cassian’s tongue slides into me, and I moan again.
He swirls it inside my cunt, lapping and sucking kisses onto it. Then his fingers join in, once circling itself around my clit.
“Cassian…” I moan into the open, my nails digging into his hair.
His tongue continues to play with my drenched cunt, as his finger circles my clit. I feel heat building up in my core.
My hands tangle themselves into Cassian’s hair as he pushes a finger into me.
That makes me push his head further into me, earning me a feral growl from him.
As I keep pushing his face into my dripping cunt, he lets out several vibrating groans.
I feel myself closing around him. Only a few more moments now.
Rhys notices my squirming and decides to place a hand onto my clothed bra. Running his fingers over my peaked nipples, I let out a moan.
Cassian keeps pushing his face further into me, his finger curling and twisting inside me. The other circling my sensitive bud in a rapid motion.
“I can’t hold it-“ I whimper, as my thighs start shaking.
“Soak his face darling…” Rhys motivates me, as Cassian grips harshly onto my thighs.
His fingers dig into the flesh of my skin, surely leaving bruises. But I don’t care.
I don’t care at all, as I let myself go freely. My whole body twitching with pleasure, and my eyes rolling into the back of my head.
“Fuck!” I cry out in pleasure, as I spill onto Cassian’s tongue.
I keep squirting into his mouth, and he takes it all. His fingers pull out of me, drenched in my juices, and he only looks at me with lust, as he sucks his fingers dry. At that he groans.
“Look what a mess you’ve made of him y/n…CassIan’s drenched in your cum” Rhys says into my ear, as my cunt is still pulsating.
“I want…Azriel” I breathe out. Not forgetting the shadowsinger, who’s been awfully quiet the past minutes.
“You want him do you?” Rhys questions me and I nod.
Then as in command, the shadowsinger steps down beside Cassian, who’s still kneeling, and slips off his undershorts.
His swollen, hard cock springs free and I nearly moan at the sight.
I can’t tear my eyes away, and instead just get to my feet, pushing Cassian aside.
I get on my knees in front of Azriel, pinning up my hair with a ribbon. He grabs my chin softly, tilting my head upwards to meet his gaze.
“You look so good on your knees princess. Now be a good girl and suck me off” he grins darkly, and I palm him in my hand.
He only closes his eyes, as I run my hand back and forth over his long, hard shaft.
His head dips back, as he lets out a deep groan. I hear Cassian shifting behind me to settle himself beside Rhys.
I bring my tongue to the tip, as I lick around it. He groans again.
Then I decide to run my tongue over the underside of his long cock, licking a stripe.
I let my nails drag slightly over him as well, before I finally push him inside my mouth. He’s so fucking big. Bigger than both Cassian and Rhys, and they’re massive. Or at least I think they are.
I start to bob my head back and forth, my tongue running over his sensitive skin. His hands move to my hair, and he fists it in his hand.
I grip his muscular thighs, as I push myself further onto him. I take as much of his large cock as I can into my mouth, and using my hand for the rest.
He hits the back of my throat, and I gag. That makes him groan even more.
“Fuck y/n, you’re a pro” Cassian says from behind.
“Come on y/n, you can bring him to his end” Rhys encourages me.
I hollow out my cheeks, as I continue to bob my head back and forth. Azriel helps me by pushing my head forward. I gag over and over again, letting out a few moans myself, as I take him.
He continues to groan, almost like an animal.
I feel his dick twitching inside my mouth and I know he’s close.
“So close y/n…don’t stop” he motivates me and I don’t.
A few tears spill from my eyes, as he finally fills up my mouth.
“Y/n!” He comes with my name rolling off his tongue.
He squirts a handful into me, and I swallow every single drop. When I pull away, a few drops of his cum drips down my lips. I use my thumb to wipe it off, as I suck it into my mouth. All while keeping eye contact with him the whole time.
He groans again.
“The things you do to me y/n…” he says, and I stand up to meet his eyes.
He smiles a loving smile at me, as he gives me a gentle kiss on the lips. Forgetting that I just swallowed his juices.
A moan escapes his mouth, as he tastes himself on my tongue and lips. Then he pulls away, and looks into my eyes.
Cassian and Rhys comes up behind me us, and I feel two pair of hands wrap around me. I now stand in the middle of the three, tall, muscular Illyrians, and I feel tiny.
Rhys moves some hair from my neck, and leans down to whisper in my ear.
“You’re so beautiful darling…”
I close my eyes, leaning into his touch.
Cassian’s hand moves to my bra, as he traces a hand over it.
“Cass…not again…” I nearly moan.
“Relax princess…let us take care of you” he answers.
I let the run their hands over me a couple of times, let them feel their way over my body. Let them kiss and nibble on my skin. But then I push them away. They all give me a confused look.
I walk away from them, heading to the door, and opening it. Then I walk out and head for the bathroom.
I hear them following me, but I don’t stop. As I enter the bathroom, I strip out of my underwear and walk into the large shower.
I turn on the water, and stand under it, letting it fall onto my body. I soak my hair as well, as I run my hands through it.
When I open my eyes again, I am met with three pairs of eyes. Three pairs of hungry, lustful eyes.
The three bat boys are standing in the bathroom, right in front of me, as their eyes roam over my entire body.
I feel myself heat up again at that. But I ignore it, and go back back to standing under the faucet.
I hear some shuffling and footsteps, before all three of them enter the shower with me.
I open my eyes again to look at them. They’re all hovering over me, and I have to look up to meet their eyes. And they’re all naked. Great.
Just don’t look down y/n. Do not look down. But of course I do. My gaze drops to all their lower abdomens, to the three large cocks that hang there. Oh my fucking god.
I stare fit way too long, a breathy moan leaving my mouth at how they’re already hard.
“Eyes up here princess” Cassian says and my eyes shoot back up.
I swallow deeply, as I find all three of them grinning darkly.
Their own eyes drop to my naked body. Over my chest, stomach, thighs, legs and of course my dripping cunt.
I look at all three of them, deciding which one of them I wanna fuck first. Which cock I wanna feel inside me first.
I head for Rhys as I smash my lips onto his. He immediately wraps his arms around me, and I moan as his hard dick comes in contact with my wet cunt.
I bite down on his lips, my hands moving to either side of me, palming both Azriel and Cassian’s dick in my hands. They both let out groans of surprise.
I continue to make out with Rhys as I play with their cocks.
Rhys’s hands move down to my ass, grabbing a handful, and squeezing tightly. I moan into his mouth.
“I wanna fuck you…” he speaks into my mouth.
“Then fuck me…” I respond the same way.
With that he pulls away, and slams me into the shower wall. He moves one hand to his cock, and pushes slowly inside me. My eyes screw shut at the motion, and I let out a deep moan.
“Fuck Rhys…I don’t know I can-“ I start but he cuts me off, by moving his hand over my mouth.
“You can take it darling. I know you can” he encourages me.
And then he pushes himself the last inches inside of me, and I have to grab onto his shoulders not to cry out of pleasure.
“Cauldron boil me…” I moan out as he starts moving inside me.
Azriel and Cassian take a seat on the bench inside the shower, as they only watch.
My eyes move to them, as Rhys continues to thrust inside of me, and they only smirk.
I notice both of their hard, swollen dicks and I ache to touch them. Help them. Satisfy them.
Rhys moves deeper into me, his hands moving to hold my thighs, so he can thrust as deep as possible.
I try to keep my eyes on Azriel and Cassian, but I struggle as Rhys continues to destroy me.
My nails dig into his shoulders, and I feel myself clenching. I’m close.
“Rhys…I’m close” I breathe out, as he continues to thrust deep inside me.
With that he only pushes harder, his thrusts becoming slower and deeper. That means he’s close too.
“Come on darling…come for me” he encourages, and that throws me over the edge.
My walls tighten around his dick, and I spill myself inside him. He follows me right after, as his own juices leak into me.
“Fuck y/n…you feel so good” he moans as he rises out his orgasm.
As my release ends, I slacken in his arms. Already struggling to stand up from the orgasms I’ve already had.
Rhys notices, and moves his arms to my hips, as he pulls himself out of me. Then he raises his head to meet my eyes. He looks at me worried.
“Are you okay?”
I swallow deeply, and take a deep breath.
“Yes, I’m fine” I confirm with a slight smile.
He nods and gives me a slight smile back, before stepping away from me.
As he moves away, I suddenly get a glance of Azriel and Cassian again, still sitting on the bench.
My eyes dip down to their lower abdomens. Their cocks are still so hard and swollen, and I just ache to have them inside me too. But I’m not sure if I can. My legs are already wobbly, and I’m way too overstimulated.
“I…” I hesitate.
Azriel and Cassian’s gazes both soften at my tone and expression. Then Cassian stands up in front of me, the mother hen that he is.
“Princess? Are you tired?” He tilts my chin to look up at him.
I glance over at Rhys and Azriel again, and they both just look at me softly.
“I can take more…” I lie, or half lie. I do want them. I want both Azriel and Cassian before I go to bed. But I’m just so exhausted. My body feels so weak.
“Princess.” Cassian repeats, and I turn my gaze to him.
“It’s okay, if you’re tired, we can go to sleep” he comforts me.
“I do want you…I just” I don’t wanna miss this opportunity.
“It’s okay angel. We don’t wanna exhaust you. We can take it some other time” Azriel speaks up as well.
“But we had a moment…” I slightly argue.
“More moments will come. Believe me when I say that you will have the opportunity for this again” Cassian tells me with a slight grin.
I can’t help but smile at his playfulness.
“Alright then, but you’re still staying with me through the night. I will not let you leave” I demand them.
“As you command” Cassian salutes mockingly, and I can’t help but giggle.
——————
We’ve rinsed off all our sweat and scents, and I’m currently sitting at the edge of the bed, Azriel braiding my hair.
Cassian and Rhys are sitting pressed up against the headboard, ready for cuddle and sleep.
The need and lust isn’t as strong anymore, but my body is still very exhausted and tired.
“And done.” Azriel says, as he ties up my braid.
“Thank you…” I turn around.
He smiles, cups my cheeks, and gives me a loving kiss on the forehead. Then he pulls back, and sits next to the other two Illyrians.
They’re all dressed in pajama pants and cotton t-shirts. I’m wearing a cotton night gown, my hair now freshly braided.
I look down, fiddling with the hem of my gown, as I can’t look at them. I still feel bad for not letting Cassian and Azriel fuck me too. I said I wanted them, and then I just left them hanging. Guilt creeps up my throat.
“Darling, you’re still not feeling bad right?” Rhys asks, but I don’t meet his eyes.
“No I just-“ I cut myself off.
Then I lift my head to look at all of them.
“I’m sorry for blowing you off…” I look at both Cassian and Azriel.
“Princess, how many times do we have to tell you? It’s alright. We don’t care. All we want is for you to feel comfortable and safe” Cassian reassures me.
“But I-“
“No. You don’t get to apologize angel. You did nothing wrong” Azriel hushes me.
I sigh deeply and decide to slowly crawl over to them instead. I move in between Cassian and Rhys, as I tug the covers over my body.
Then I lay my head on Cassian’s shoulder, and I grab his much larger hand, fiddling with it.
I can feel all their gazes on me.
So I look up at Cassian through my eyelashes, and ask innocently.
“What?”
Cassian reaches out a hand to move a loose strand behind my ear, then he cups my cheek.
He leans down and pecks my lips softly. Then he mutters into my mouth.
“Beautiful”
I feel heat creeping up my cheeks. I don’t deserve them.
He pulls away from my mouth, but I can’t tear my eyes away from him. My lips are still parted where his were a few moments ago.
Then I decide to do something very bold. I grab his face in my hands, and smash my lips onto his.
He immediately falls a little back by the sudden action, but naturally his hands move to my waist. I move on top of him, my legs straddling his thighs.
Then I open my mouth to kiss him deeper, my tongue wanting entrance to his.
“Y/n” he pulls away. I quirk an eyebrow at him.
“Let’s go to sleep” he tells me, his hands staying on my waist.
“But I’m giving you what you want?” I look at him confused.
Rhys puts a hand on my thigh. I look to him.
“Y/n. You need to stop trying to please everyone. Take time for yourself. Rest” he tells me.
I turn towards Azriel. He’s looking at me with that same pitying face. I don’t want their pity.
“I don’t need rest. I need to give you what you want. All of you.” I protest, my hand moving for the hem of Cassian’s trousers.
He stops me, placing his own hands on top of mine.
“Y/n. Look at me” he says, and I lift my gaze slowly.
“Let’s sleep. And then we can do this tomorrow”
I sigh. I suppose they’re right. I am quite tired. And I do need sleep.
“On one condition” I argue.
“And what is that?” Azriel asks.
“These” I hint for their shirts.
“Need to go”
They all smile at me, before moving to take them off. The shirts land on the floor, and I can’t help but drool a little over their muscular forms.
“Can we go to sleep now?” Rhys asks me, and I nod.
I move off Cassian, and back between him and Rhys, lying down on the pillow. They all lie down as well, the duvets pulling over us.
I turn my body towards Cassian, and he turns towards me. My leg moves over his, and my arm drapes over his bare chest. The other arm I move over his waist slightly. I snuggle into his neck, inhaling his scent.
He wraps a strong arm around me, pulling me closer, as he kisses the top of my head lovingly.
I feel Rhys shift behind me, as his front suddenly presses into my back. He also moves a hand over my waist, his face nuzzling into my neck.
I can’t see Azriel, but I know he’s lying behind Cassian. Mostly because his hand interlaces with mine on Cassian’s waist, as I snuggle closer.
I close my eyes, letting myself rest, as I finally feel comfortable. I feel safe. I feel loved.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
341 notes · View notes
sunrise-imagines · 6 months
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ill do anything for something about Prismo, relationship Hcs or PDA Hcs, I don't care if it's sfw or nsfw, I love Prismo
Of course! Prismo is such an underrated character, Im so glad he’s getting more screen time and I can’t wait to find out more lore like who’s his boss! I’ll keep it SFW for now, but feel free to send in another ask for some spicier headcanons ;) Enjoy!
Prismo the Wishmaster x Reader General Headcanons
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• I hope your love language is receiving gifts because hoo boy he is constantly showering you with presents
• Saw something you liked in a store but didn’t have enough money to get it? Bam, it’s right there in front of you. Craving a specific food? Here’s five servings of it.
• It gets to the point where you have to tell him to dial it back a bit, because getting everything you want whenever you want it can start to make life a bit anticlimactic.
• On a more serious note, part of the reason why he gives you so many things is because he’s afraid that you might leave. I mean yeah,he’s an extra-dimensional godlike being, but he’s also very lonely because of this and hasn’t had many serious relationships in his life. This has caused to think that the only way to keep you with him is to grant your every wish. He needs you to reassure him that you love him for who he is, and you don’t need all those things to want to be with him.
• Like Scarab, he can take on a human-like physical form sometimes, though this form is harder for him to maintain as he does it a lot less often than Scarab. In this form, he has dark skin, curly pink hair and bright blue eyes like he usually does, and he wears a comfortable pink kurta and pants.
• He uses this form for physical intimacy, which you’ll have help to teach him as he isn’t familiar with all the different ways humans show affection.
• “So this is how a hug feels! Haha, it’s a little weird, but I like it!”
• His TV isn’t just for watching over the multiverse, he can also pull up programs from any universe to watch, so expect regular movie nights/binge watching shows
• He also loves playing board games! He’s really good at them too, though he’s not that competitive. He just has a lot of time to practice
• If you started dating when Jake was alive, then he loves to hang out with both of you! Nothing is better than chilling with his partner and his best friend.
• Makes special batches of pickles just for you, and asks you to sample different flavors and give him notes on what to adjust.
• In the most non-stalking way, he likes to keep an eye on you whenever you go back to your universe. He just wants to make sure you’re safe, and if you ever told him you’re uncomfortable with this he’d definitely stop asap.
• He’ll only step in if he sees you in serious trouble, zapping you to the time room to get you out of whatever situation is causing you distress.
• For my trans, nonbinary and gender non-conforming folks, he is of course accepting of all gender identities, and if you aren’t happy with how your body or features look he’d be happy to change them for you! Only with your absolute complete consent though, he doesn’t want to permanently change anything about you unless you are absolutely sure it’s what you want. And of course, he’ll still love you no matter what you look like <3
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readychilledwine · 7 months
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Requiem for a Dream
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Part one - Home
After 50 years without his mate, Rhysand is finally free and Home.
Warnings - Rhysand's SA trauma is alluded to, depression is alluded to, terrible self care is seen from Rhiannon the OC. Oh, and as always unedited 💜
A/n - this ended up being a 4 part thing, and they are all scheduled to be posted 2 days apart (because I don't want to make you all wait when I am PROUD of the final smut scene) Each jumps is month into Rhysand being home. Each part gets spicier with time. Each part was also written with different songs involved and in mind. "Home" by MGK, Bebe Rexha, and X Ambassadors was trapped in my mind during this part
Part Two Part Three Part Four
✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️
Rhys collapsed on the floor of the House of Wind. He was panting before finally breaking down. His arms wrapped around his torso as sobs tore through him. "Rhys?!" The sound of heels slapping against the floor came before arms were around him. "You're home."
He found himself clinging to Mor, head buried into her neck. "Mor, what happened?" A deep voice came into the room followed by heavy foot steps. "Rhys? Az!" Mor pulled away, allowing Cassian to fall before Rhys and pull him into another tight hug. "Let's get you inside, brother."
Rhys allowed him to support him and move him into the living room. Shadows had begun to scurry, moving with a purpose as Azriel appeared in the room and then froze. He walked to Rhys as if he was seeing a ghost, his scarred hands holding his face before his own tears began to fall and they embraced.
"Why are we all gathered in the living room? Food is that-" Amren stopped mid sentence, dropping the flute of blood she was holding. Azriel released Rhysand, backing away to be held by Cassian as the ancient being approached. "Do not ever scare us like that again, boy."
Rhys couldn't help but to laugh and nod before feeling shocked as Amren buried her face into his chest and held him. The Inner Circle stood in silence and tears. Before the question Rhys had since landing finally came out of his mouth. His voice was broken, confidence leaving his body as he asked, "Where is my wife?"
—------------
Rhiannon was hunched over a desk. She was reading through countless reports that had suddenly shown up once the barrier broke.
She refused to go to dinner, choosing to instead distract herself with work. The House had tried pulling her chair from under her, a shadow had tried dragging her out of his office, and the faelights had flickered indicating to her someone had entered her home, but Rhiannon didn't move.
She'd rather work herself to death or starve than get her hopes up that her mate was finally home. She'd rather be burned on an Autumn Court Pyre than allow her heart to break any further than it had.
50 years. 50 long years without Rhysand. Without hearing his laugh. Without the smell of citrus and salt. Without feeling his hands on her body, his lips on hers. 50 years without hearing the sound of his voice. She was broken. Broken from the nightmares he unknowingly sent down the bond. Broken from his last words to her being a command to stay in the House of Wind. Broken from feeling the bond they had never closed grow colder than ice.
Another shadow came, Weaving into her hair to let her know her true brother, Azriel, was thinking of her. That he wanted her to come downstairs and eat. "Tell your master I will eat later. I'm busy reading 50 years of reports from Illyria."
—---------
Azriel sighed deeply, looking at Cassian and shaking his head. "She's going to work herself to death." Cassian whispered as they watched Rhys stare at her chair. "He needs her."
Azriel stood. "I will be right back." Rhysand shook his head, standing next.
"You stay. I'll go." He took his whiskey with him, moving out of the room. "I'll be back soon. I'll just pull rank on her."
—-------
Rhiannon sighed in annoyance as the door opened. "I told you I'd eat later, Az. Fuck off." Rhys watched her. Her long dark brown hair was falling in waves to her hips. Her hazel eyes were reading through paper after paper, marking things she had questions over before moving to the next.
She was wearing a beautiful black dress that dipped low in the front, allowing him a view of her tan skin, of her full breasts, her toned stomach. She was thinner than when he had left, causing his heart to ache. He sat across from her, slightly shocked when she didn't look up. He wanted to pull her into his lap, to hold her, to cry into her shoulder. But he would wait. Wait until they had spoken about the choices he made.
"Just say what you want to say and leave, Azriel. I'm genuinely not in the mood."
He chose then to open the bond. It flooded both of them, causing Rhiannon to drop the paper she was holding. "There's 50 years of things I'd like to say to you, wife." He took a sip of his whiskey as she was taking uneven breaths to try to regain stability from the emotions taking over her own. "I'd prefer to eat first though, and then we could speak later tonight at the River House. Away from everyone else." She gave him no reaction. Shock was sitting in the middle of their bond, blocking him from her feelings, her mind, her needs.
"Please come eat with us. I-" His eyes squeezed shut as her emotions began to hit him. Her longing, her love, her needs, her stresses. "I need us all to eat together. I need family dinner. The papers can wait. They've waited 50 years, darling."
Rhiannon stood, moving to be directly in front of her husband as he stood. She had not spoken. Hands shaking as she lifted them to touch his face before stopping. He realized slowly that she already knew. She knew what had happened to him. What he had done. "You were actually there in those dreams, weren't you?" His voice was broken as he tried to step away from her before her hands shot to his wrists. "Rhi-"
"Please don't pull away from me. I won't touch you without your permission. I'll do whatever you need. Just please don't do what I can feel you thinking about."
Rhys nodded. His own hands trembling as he laced their fingers together and took a deep breath. "It might be awhile, Rhiannon."
She shook her head rapidly. "I don't care. It doesn't matter as long as you are here. I'd wait forever for you." The sentence was all it took for him to pull her into his arms, releasing a sob of relief as she whispered how much she loved and adored him.
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criminalamnesia · 1 month
Note
If it's not too much would you consider a roommates! Gaz and Soap where you need temporary housing and they offer to put you up for a couple of months in return for some housekeeping and cooking? But then it's awkward sharing a space with three people and two bedrooms so you end up a free use maid ✨
so I’ve been thinking about this,,, and I’m actually changing your idea a little bit (I hope that’s okay!)
also I got completely carried away with this and I miiight already be thinking about a part two where things get a little spicier, like you asked! 👀 keep a look out :))
(also I will 100% write for roommate!johnny&gaz eventually but I couldn’t get this idea out of my head!)
you’re soap’s sister, and when you tell him you need a place to stay, he doesn’t hesitate.
it didn’t click in his mind how your moving in may pose a problem until he’s helping you pack your stuff into a van.
one— he lives with gaz, and he may have forgotten to tell his roommate that they’re adding a third to their already small apartment.
two— there’s only two bedrooms.
gaz was currently on a special assignment, so these two things weren’t a huge problem at the moment. johnny shoots his teammate a text, informing him of the predicament and apologizing for just now telling him.
gaz responds, obviously a little peeved, and johnny’s suddenly absorbed in his phone, trying to soothe ruffled feathers and make this work.
you’re huffing as you keep shoving boxes into the van, your muscly brother now too preoccupied to continue helping.
“little help here, johnny?” you call from the trunk, and johnny startles from his spot leaning against the side of the truck.
by the time he clicks his phone off and resumes helping you, him and gaz have settled things.
you’d have johnny’s bedroom. johnny could sleep in gaz’s room until gaz got back home. and the rest would be worked out at a later date.
————————————————
you’ve never met gaz before. sure, johnny has told you all about his teammates and his roommate in particular, but you’ve never actually met the man until now.
he makes you screech in terror, holding the broom you’d been using to sweep the kitchen up like a sword. he chuckles.
“how’d you get in here?” your eyes are wide, taking in the man in front of you, and then it clicks. you remember the pictures johnny had shown you.
this was gaz.
and fuck, he was hot.
“I live here, love.” he says, his tone obviously amused as he looks you up and down. “gonna put that down? or will I be sporting some broom-shaped bruises for the next week?”
“oh, sorry—” you scramble to put the broom down, leaning it against one of the kitchen counters. “I didn’t hear you come in, and johnny didn’t tell me you’d be home today.”
“he didn’t know,” gaz shrugged, walking further into the kitchen now that your weapon of choice had been set aside. “where is he, by the way? we’ve got a lot of talking to do. gotta figure out this room situation.”
you pick at your cuticles anxiously as you shuffle out of the way, allowing gaz to open the fridge. he grabs a bottle of water and twists the lid off, and you’re mesmerized.
wait, what?
you mentally shake yourself from your stupor.
“um, he’s at the gym i think. he should be home soon.”
gaz nods, taking a swig from his water. his eyes settle on you once more as he shuts the fridge door.
“but about the bedrooms,” you start, taking a step towards him. “johnny can have his back. im fine with the couch, and—”
“oh, absolutely not, love. I’d sooner take the couch than make you sleep on it.”
“no no,” you say, shaking your head. “I’ve already caused enough problems by moving in. please let me—”
he cuts you off again with a dazzling smile. “it’s settled, love. you’re not sleeping on the couch. and your moving in isn’t a problem, trust me.”
damn, he’s smooth. you feel your cheeks getting hot, and you have to force yourself to look away from him before you melt.
“okay, well, if you won’t let me take the couch, at least let me do the chores and stuff, yeah? it’s not like I have much else to do,” you tell him with a dry chuckle. the whole reason you’d resorted to moving in with johnny was because you were between jobs right now.
you quite literally had all the time in the world to help around the apartment.
kyle almost looks like he’s going to protest again, but he doesn’t. he must see how much you want to do this, how badly you feel for ‘interrupting’ (you’re absolutely not, and although he’d been miffed about johnny not asking him about you moving in at first, he couldn’t care less now. you were stunning).
at his silence, you give a firm nod. “alright then,” you grin, and he matches your expression. “nice to finally meet you, gaz.”
“kyle,” he says, and your smile widens the tiniest bit.
“kyle.” you say, as if testing the word out on your tongue.
“sis, y’home? I was thinking chinese for dinner!” johnny calls out as the door to the apartment opens. he steps inside, toeing off his shoes before rounding the corner to the kitchen.
“you shite!” johnny laughs out as he spots gaz in the kitchen. they both chuckle, embracing each other in short hug, slapping each other on the back.
“y’broken?” you hear johnny ask, and gaz shakes his head.
“nah, all good.”
johnny nods, patting gaz on the shoulder before his eyes shift to you.
“see y’ve met my sis,” he says, moving towards you and ruffling your hair. you groan, slapping at his hand. gaz laughs. “hope she hasn’ given ya trouble.”
“I just came in,” gaz says, eyes meeting yours for a brief moment.
“so she hasn’ had the chance yet, then,” johnny jokes, and you roll your eyes. “chinese alrigh’ gaz?”
the other man nods, and the two soldiers fall into familiar conversation. you feel as though you’re intruding, and you attempt to slip out of the kitchen unnoticed, but gaz stops you by mentioning your name.
“I was just telling your sister that she’s not sleeping on the couch,” he tells johnny, and then his eyes slide to you. you look sheepish, like a kid caught with their hand in a cookie jar.
“oh, o’course not,” johnny agrees. “I can take the couch, she’s my sister.”
“we could switch, yeah?” kyle looks at johnny. “that couch isn’t that comfortable, mate. I don’t wanna be hearin’ you complain about your back in a few days.”
johnny laughs, but nods. “sounds good. looks like you’re livin’ the life then, aye?” he says to you, and you open your mouth to speak, but kyle beats you to it.
“actually, we were just talking about all that. your lovely sister here was saying she’d like to keep the flat clean.”
“s’that so?” johnny questions, eyebrows raised as he looks at you. “y’don’t have to do that.”
“I want to, johnny. it’s the least I can do after barging in on your lives.”
you can tell by the look on your brother’s face that he’s going to argue, so you swiftly cut him off.
“no arguments! it’ll give me something to do anyways.”
johnny concedes, then excuses himself to shower. you tell him you’ll order the food as he leaves the kitchen.
you and kyle are alone again, and his eyes are trained on you. you clear your throat before fishing your phone out of your pocket.
“what’s your order?” you ask him.
kyle grins. he knows what he’s doing to you.
god, this was going to be an interesting stay.
—————————————————
author’s note:
this is my first time really writing both johnny and Kyle, so I apologize if they seem ooc!
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fandom-alley · 10 months
Text
Rekindling at the Spa
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18+
Summary: Spencer has an evening at the spa as per his doctors orders, and meets up with a girl he met at Penelope's over a year ago. This time he convinces himself not to leave without getting her phone number, but he ends up getting a little bit more.
Pairing: Spencer Reid/Reader
Category: Fluff, smut (like hardly though)
Warnings: 18+, kissing, making out, semi-public (no ones around) grinding, coming untouched/in pants
Word Count: 3.7k
a/n: inspired by my recent trip to the spa where i realized just how single i am. this is my first time writing something spicier than making out, so it's not a lot and just at the end, go easy on me lol
Also on AO3
The last thing Spencer Reid wanted to do was spend his evening at the hydrotherapy spa. Germs from the water of hot tubs could make you sick if consumed, and so could the vapour that comes off the water. Not to mention the possibility of a rash due to the chemicals used. But it was his doctor's orders. Apparently his own doctoral status was not good enough to sway them to let him come back to work early and skip this step. 
There were many steps he had to complete as part of his recovery process; resting his injured leg, physical therapy, changes to his diet, therapy for his mental health. And the dreaded ‘spa relaxation’.
Now, most doctors probably wouldn’t prescribe a day at the spa as something to do as part of recovery, but Spencer’s doctor knew him well. He knew that throughout the last month, even though Spencer had completed most of his steps, he wasn’t relaxing through any of it. And his doctor was correct. Spencer’s brain had been working double time, reading twice the amount of books he usually did in a day while he was immobile elevating his injured leg. Reading up on new techniques for profiling and offering tips to the BAU when they worked a local case.
His doctor could tell that his inability to relax his brain, therefore relaxing his body, was the last step in holding him back from complete recovery.
So here he was, entering a Nordic hydrotherapy spa, where he was not allowed to bring in any cell phones, tablets, or hold loud conversations with anyone. And while it was acceptable to bring books in to read, Spencer didn’t want to risk dropping one in the water and ruining it. So he was about to be forced to put his self meditation techniques to use. 
After changing into his swim shorts, putting on the complimentary robe and locking away his belongings, Spencer stepped out of the main building into the frigid evening air. He breathed in the scent of salt, chlorine, and eucalyptus from the nearby steam room. Hidden speakers in the plant beds around the property played out relaxing spa style music. Spencer had to admit, despite his reservations regarding germs, he already did feel quite relaxed.
The steam coming off the hot pools seemed to blanket the grounds in silence. It wasn’t that busy, but Spencer spotted a few people relaxing in the pools and walking in-between sections of the spa grounds. 
Upon his check in tonight, the kind lady at the front desk informed him how to use the spa for maximum relaxation and hydrotherapy benefits. She recommended he sit in a hot pool for 10 to 15 minutes, take a plunge in the cold pool for at least 15 seconds or as long as he could handle, and then relax in a sauna, steam room, or relaxation room before continuing the process a few times.
The property was large, with 4 different hot pools, 3 different cold plunge pools, 2 rooms for wood burning saunas, the eucalyptus steam room, and multiple chairs dotting the ground surrounding fireplaces where you could sit and relax. Without putting too much thought to it, Spencer hung up his robe near the closest hot pool and stepped into the burning water. 
The change in temperature stung his cold toes as they started to warm up. The water was only up to his waist as he waded through past a few couples sitting to the sides. He made his way to the back of the pool where it was blissfully empty and took a seat. Since he was so tall sitting on the built in seats along the edge of the pool, the water only went up to mid chest. But the rest of his exposed skin felt refreshed with the cool air blowing over him. A good contrast to the hot water covering the rest of his body.
Spencer leaned his head back and closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and tried to shut his brain off. It worked for a few minutes, before he heard a couple a few feet over whispering sweet nothings to each other. It just made Spencer start thinking about his own lacklustre love life.
With his job in the BAU there wasn't that much opportunity and time for a relationship. Sure, some of his co-workers had figured it out. Like JJ and Will for instance. Spencer had seen how difficult it was for Morgan to hold down a relationship with their crazy work hours as well.
He hadn't really put that much effort into a relationship, though. Part of the reason was that he just didn't have the time. Some of the cases kept them away from home for weeks at a time. Sometimes to the point where he really didn't know how his friends and co-workers were able to keep it up. He was the type of guy who wanted to get to know someone, be around them lots in the early stages, and that was just too hard with work.
Spencer jolted out of his daydream when someone splashed into the seat next to him.
"Is this seat taken?" The voice belonged to a pretty girl, who if he had to guess was maybe just a few years younger than him. She looked vaguely familiar, but he couldn't seem to place where he recognized her from. "You're Dr. Spencer Reid, right?" She asked.
"Yes, that's me," he replied with a furrowed brow, wracking his brain on why her big brown eyes looked like they knew him as well.
Thankfully she caught on to his confusion. "I'm y/n. Penelope's friend from book club. We met a year ago at her place when she had a viewing party for the season finale of Love Is Blind. I almost didn't go because I really don't watch reality TV, but I had just moved to the area and I wanted to try and make some friends."
Spencer remembered her now. Back then at the party she had her hair down in unruly curls and it was the colour of fire engine red. Now her hair was tied back to stay out of the water and it was the colour of midnight black. He wasn't one to forget a face, or forget much of anything really. But something about a dramatic change in hair colour and style had the Clark Kent effect on him. Maybe it was because he was in a pretty decent state of relaxation.
"I remember you," he said, nodding his head in recognition. "I also didn't want to go to that party but Penelope is hard to say no to."
Y/n laughed, "Yes she is, isn't she. It's good though. Because of her persistence I was able to make a few friends that night. And on multiple other nights as well. Penelope frequently tries to set me up on dates." She was talking pretty quietly as per spa rules, and it would have been hard to hear if she hadn't sat close and leaned in while she talked. Normally Spencer would have backed away, but something about her presence was soothing. Or maybe that was just the water jets from the pool shooting into his back.
"So what brings you to the spa tonight?" Spencer asked her. He might have met her back then at the party, but they hadn't said many words to each other. He remembered being slightly intimidated by her fiery hair and bubbly personality and after their initial introduction he snuck away with his glass of juice to browse Pen's book collection.
"Actually, it was a birthday gift from Penelope!" Y/n smiled.
"Oh, happy birthday." Spencer smiled back at her. Why was he intimidated back then, he thought to himself. She was so beautiful and so nice, and so far fairly easy to talk to, it seemed.
"Thank you. But it's actually not until next month. Penelope just told me this was the only night she could get a reservation and that when my actual birthday happened she would buy me a cake," y/n laughed. 
Spencer pursed his lips in confusion. When he booked his reservation on his doctor's orders, there looked to have been multiple available times from now until the end of the year. The only day that was sold out was Thanksgiving weekend.
"When did she give you the gift with the reservation in it?" He asked y/n, with a hint of scepticism in his voice.
"About 3 days ago I think it was," she answered. About 3 days ago is when Spencer called up Penelope to rant to her about being forced to go to this spa. Was it possible Pen had given Y/n the gift as an excuse to try and set them up? Back at the party he had gotten the vibe when she introduced them that she wanted them to become friends. But Spencer had never gotten her number or email, and figured it just wasn't meant to be. Although how could it be, when he actively avoided her most of that night.
"What a coincidence that we're both here on the same night," Spencer told her.
"I know, right? I wasn't completely sure that you were you when I saw you sitting over here. But you're a hard one to forget, Dr. Reid," y/n said. Was that a blush he saw forming on her cheeks, or was she just getting too warm from the water.
"You can just call me Spencer. I really don't make anyone use doctor unless we're at work," he chuckled.
"Will do, Spencer. I hope you don't mind that I came over to sit with you. I can leave if you want the relaxation of being alone." She started to slide away from her seat slowly, giving him the opportunity to tell her she didn't need to leave. Which is exactly what he did.
"I don't mind. It's kind of nice to have company. I didn't realize how many people went to the spa with their partners," he told her. 
"Well, perfect. We can experience this spa together then. So how come you didn't come here with your partner?" Y/n asked slyly. Spencer could feel his face heat up with the attention turned to himself.
"No partner. I actually had to come here by doctor's orders. I got shot in the leg last month, and as the last part of recovery my doctor wanted me to relax more and figured what better way to force me to relax than to send me to the spa.”
“Oh my gosh. I’m tempted to ask if you’re okay, but it seems like you are, since you’re sitting here. I had no idea your job could lead to such violence,” Y/n exclaimed. 
“Every day is something different. They usually keep me off the field working from the office or police stations, but even then you never know what could happen,” Spencer explained.
“Wow. Okay, sorry. This is supposed to be relaxing and here I am bringing up work talk. What do you say we take a plunge into the cold?” Y/n asked with a grin.
This was probably the experience at the spa he was least likely to enjoy, but he followed her out of the water and next door to the cold pool. It was completely empty and Spencer was not surprised. Y/n grabbed his hand, sending a shock through his body, as they stood at the top of the stairs to the pool.
“It’s pretty likely that one of us is going to wimp out once our feet hit the water. So if need be, we have to drag the other person in, okay?” She said as she looked up at him. His voice got caught in his throat as he looked down at her and all he could do was nod in agreement. 
With a deep breath in, together they stepped onto the first step. It was so cold Spencer felt like his toes would fall off in a second. However he didn’t even get a second thought to think about stepping back out before y/n fell forward into the water, pulling him with her. He had to grab onto her hips for stability so he didn’t end up falling on top of her in the 3 feet of water. 
“It’s so cold,” Y/n gasped out.
It might have been 15 seconds, it might have been 5 minutes, but Spencer felt lost in time as he held Y/n in his arms in the freezing cold water. He didn’t even feel that cold in the places where Y/n’s skin touched his. Slowly, as if held down by some invisible force, he removed his hands from her hips and grabbed her hand this time to help her out of the water.
Feeling a new burst of energy from the cold shock, Spencer helped Y/n into her robe before putting on his, then wordlessly grabbed her hand and led her to one of the saunas. Inside, they were met with a blast of heat as Spencer guided Y/n to the back bench. Every seat in the sauna faced a wall made of glass that overlooked a small lake with a fountain cascading in the middle. As he relaxed into his seat, Y/n decided to lay out on the bench beside him and use his thigh as a head rest. 
Neither of them said a word as they gazed out the window, watching the birds fly by and the ducks swim in the lake. 
Spencer thought back to the night of Penelope’s party. After he had pushed himself to the wall to avoid interacting with people, he did end up watching from afar as Y/n made her way around talking to all the guests. He might have initially felt intimidated, but he was also fascinated with her. He’d seen a lot of different people with his job, and he’d seen people with colourfully dyed hair before as well, but something about her red curls just drew in his eyes and he couldn’t take them back.
She was beautiful, enchanting even, and he wanted to get her phone number. But then he had thought back to their last case. Where they had been gone for 16 days in a row. He had watched JJ as she video called Will and her kids any chance they got. Watched Hotch take numerous phone calls from his son. Even Morgan escaped for private chats with Savannah. He wasn’t sure if that was something he would be able to handle. So eventually he said goodnight to Penelope, left the party, and left any thoughts he had about Y/n behind as well.
Now that Penelope had schemingly gotten her back into his life, he was determined to make sure he got her number before leaving again. 
Spencer and Y/n enjoyed the spa amenities for another couple hours, cycling through the recommended steps while chatting quietly or relaxing in silence. Despite not doing much, they started to feel tired from the heated pools and saunas before eventually agreeing to meet outside in the parking lot after they got changed so they could say a proper goodbye.
Spencer rushed through changing, not wanting to take too long in case Y/n decided she didn’t want to stay, and made it outside in record time. He stood off to the side at the parking lot entrance, waiting for her with his heart racing. It took her a little bit longer, but eventually he saw her walking down the path. 
Her hair was down now, damp and a little frizzy from her curls trying to poke through. Wearing a simple black zip up sweater and black leggings, she looked cozy but also like she was about to rob a bank. She smiled at him when she reached his spot, taking his hand in hers to lead him to where she parked. The lot had almost emptied, leaving mostly staff vehicles and the last few remaining spa guests wanting to get every minute out of their visit as they could. Even with the empty lot, Y/n led Spencer to her car, a little black Honda, parked alone in the corner lit up only by the bright moon in the sky. 
“Thanks for letting me hang out with you tonight, Spencer,” Y/n told him when they stopped beside her car. She didn’t move to unlock it, opting instead to stand there with her hand still clasped in his.
“Of course. It was really lovely to see you again, Y/n,” said Spencer. Okay, he thought to himself, now is the time to do it. Bite the bullet and ask for her number. “Would you, maybe, be willing to exchange numbers and we can plan to go out for coffee some time soon?”
Y/n broke into a smile. “I would love that,” she said before reciting her number. She knew he would remember it, if Penelope’s constant chatter about how amazing Spencer’s memory is was to be true. 
“Awesome. So, I guess I’ll talk to you later?” Spencer moved to head back to his own vehicle but was stopped by a hand placed on the centre of his chest.
“Yeah. Or,” said Y/n, “Maybe we could do this?”
Before he could ask what ‘this’ was, she used the hand on his chest to push him back against the door of her car. Then she leaned in, rising up onto her toes to try and match his height, and placed her lips on his. It was quick, but enough to leave Spencer breathless, before she pulled away the slightest bit to look into his eyes.
“Is this okay?” she asked, and when he mumbled out a yes, nodding his head, she wasted no time going back in.
Their lips crashed together in an instant, almost too eager to finally be getting what they’ve both been craving all night. Y/n removed her hand from his chest to bring both of them into his hair, feeling the damp curls and giving them a little tug. Spencer brought his arms around her waist tightly, bringing her in closer to help relieve the strain of standing on her toes. 
He couldn’t believe this was happening, and in a parking lot. But he wouldn’t change a thing. Y/n’s hands made their way down to the back of his neck, before she brought them to his jaw. He let out a groan when she pulled on his bottom lip with her teeth, before their tongues collided with one another.  
Spencer brought his hands down even further, to grip the soft area at the back of her thigh just underneath her butt. He used his new grip to pull her up higher, spinning them around so that it was her back pressed against the car this time. She wrapped her legs around him to hold on as Spencer moved one of his hands up to her face, running his fingers along her jaw before finally pushing her hair back away from her neck. He broke away from her mouth to trail kisses along her neck, stopping to suck or nip at areas that drew a soft moan from her lips. He made his way down to her chest, where she had left part of the sweater unzipped. 
When he pulled back on the sweater he stopped with a groan, breathing deeply as he held her closer and grew tighter in his pants. Where he was expecting to see some sort of lace bra, instead he was met with nothing. She wasn’t wearing anything under the sweater. Hungrily, he opened her sweater more and he attached himself to the soft swell of her breast. Kissing, sucking, and gently biting. 
Without even realizing it, they started to move against each other. Spencer rolled his hips against hers, seeking that friction but focusing his attention on the skin between his lips. 
“Oh, fuck.” Y/n threw her head back in a moan as Spencer finally attached his mouth to the hard nub that was waiting for attention. He swirled his tongue around as he sucked on the sensitive area. “That feels so good.” she groaned. She brought her hands up to tangle them in his hair and hold him in place, only letting him move when he wanted to show her other side some love as well. 
It was difficult to move much against the car, but Spencer was hitting her in all the right places. Y/n could feel a familiar welcomed pressure building in her core and she gripped her legs tighter around him.
“Spencer,” y/n breathed out. “I’m close.”
He lifted his head enough to look at her. Her head back and eyes squeezed shut in pleasure. “Yeah?” he asked and she nodded her head while trying to move her hips faster against his. 
Spencer ground into her with a new purpose now. Paying more attention to the moves from his hips, he went back to sucking on her breast. This time he brought his hand to palm the other one. Squeezing and feeling the fullness of it in his hand. He rolled and pinched her nipple between his fingers at the same time as he gently grazed his teeth over the other one. It was enough to send Y/n over the edge, with Spencer right behind her. 
Spencer’s thrusts grew short until eventually they stopped as they came down from their high. He brought her in for another kiss, lazily moving his lips against hers while they got their breathing under control. Finally, Y/n unwrapped her legs from around him and he let her go.
“Holy shit. I can’t believe we just did that,” she said with a suddenly shy smile and glanced up at him. He looked down at her like he was seeing an angel. 
“Yeah,” he breathed out. He gripped the edges of her sweater and zipped it up tight to her neck. “What do you say we skip the coffee and go right back to my place?”
“I like the way you think. Lead the way.”
Click here for chapter 2! Available on AO3 only because it's basically smut and I was too nervous to post it on Tumblr lol
Thank you for reading, liking, or rebloging! <3
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bigassmoonchild · 5 months
Text
Meetings
Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Reader
Word Count: 2.4k
Summary: When did things ever go your way? First, you nearly lost Simon. And now? You were so close to losing your family because of one stupid fucking thing. You remembered why you kept your distance.
Content Tags: Fluff, Simon being nervous, Simon being Good With Kids, Bits of Intimacy, Violence, Attacks, Fights, Braxton Hicks, Slight Awkwardness, Crying, Comfort, Kind of Hurt/Comfort, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha! Ghost, No Use of Y/N
A/N: I'm entirely unsure of when this series will be ended. It should be soon, unfortunately, but I would love to be able to write for more things (especially the Nine series, I've really been lacking on that). Either way, here she is! Little bit shorter, but it's okay (you'll love it).
Part 1 | Previous, Next | Headcannons, Masterlist
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Simon was absolutely terrified. He wasn't entirely sure what to bring to meet your family, but you'd been antagonizing him about trying to bring a suit. 'Just be yourself,' you'd told him. And so he'd packed up a small amount of his wardrobe, some sweats and jeans, a few of his nicer shirts and pants, and a few hoodies and regular shirts.
He still wanted to bring a suit, or something similar, just in case they wanted to go out somewhere nice. He knew only what you told him about your family, about your parents. Truth be told, he wasn't sure what he'd do if your father did anything to your or his now almost-pack.
If he was truly scared, he would never tell you. The flight went alright, slight hiccups of turbulence here and there. "Let me drive us there, lovie," he whispered as you waited for your luggage. His hand was resting on the nape of your neck, rubbing against the mating gland softly.
You shook your head. "From what I've heard, you are a horrid driver. I also know how to get home, so I'll have the pleasure of driving us. Carefully," and he gave a short laugh.
Even under his balaclava, he felt rather exposed. Not knowing exactly where he was wasn't something he entirely enjoyed. He was unsure, on alert and rather nervous. He never came around this way, and it had been a long travel for the two of you. A layover or two, you'd ended up stealing his hoodie for comfort at one point (definitely not because you threw up and it got on your shirt).
That was something that helped him, though. Seeing you clearly claimed as his, scent marked and all. It was calming, made him focus on something as the two of you waded through the crowds in the airport and on your way out.
His hand rested on your leg the entire drive to the hotel, just so you could drop everything off and get fully ready for the day ahead of you. He watched, carefully, as you got dressed in a pretty little sundress and make yourself look 'nicer'.
On the ride there, you seemed antsy. Your fingers tapped quickly on the steering wheel, the foot not on the gas was tapping quickly. Your scent was mildly stressed, shifting from your normal, sweet scent to something spicier. His Alpha was bugging him, snarling some things about omega stressed and fix it.
For some time, he allowed his eyes to drift shut. You'd bugged him into wearing just a normal balaclava for this, after some discussions about whether or not he really needed to wear it in front of your family (the answer was yes, obviously).
And as the car slowed to a stop, rocking just slightly with the shift in gears to par, he opened his eyes and breathed deeply. It was a nice little house, not too big but just big enough for a family. No picket fence, he humored himself.
Opening his door, he stepped out and gave a little stretch before coming onto your side and helping you out. You pressed a little kiss against his cheek, letting him drape the jacket he was wearing around your shoulders. You gave him a little smile, and it warmed his heart just enough to shake most of the nerves away.
The front yard was filled with pups of all ages, a few of the older ones sitting on the stoop to watch them. You greeted each one, ruffling some hair and pulling them into side hugs. Simon followed quietly behind, waving a little to the older ones who gave him a strange look.
As you opened the door, a waft of slightly warm air came out. It smelled of apple pie, some stronger spices following closely. The inside looked warm, soft lights turned on in the inner most rooms, pictures hung on the walls of all different people.
Sliding his boots off, he watched as you greeted a few people looking around your age. "Simon, these are my siblings," and you smiled, eyebrows raising in a gesture to make him smile. He gave a short one, just enough for his eyes to squint. Pointing to each one, you gave him a name "Clint, Clair and Arthur," he gave a little wave.
Clair pulled you to the side, whispering quickly into your ear and glancing at Simon every few words. Clint and Arthur dragged him off to the living area, settling him down and tossing a beer into his hands.
"How d'you know her?" Clint gestured to you, walking into the kitchen with Clair and hearing a short squeal.
"Work," he answered easily. "You know what she does?" Clint shrugged and Arthur looked away.
"Just know she's doing some doctor shit," Arthur said, jaw clenching. "Didn't think it'd be military," his eyes found Simons and held the stare.
Simon looked down, not wanting to start a fight the first time he met your family. You'd kill him before any of them got to him. "She's safe," he told them. "Doesn't go on missions or anything, mostly works on the medical bay on base," he told them. Simon would never tell them exactly what happened that day, what felt like centuries ago.
He watched as the heli went down. He heard the shouts, watched as a figure struggled out of the debris and heaved a sigh of relief when your voice called over the coms.
You returned, not too much later, with what appeared to be your mother, sister and possibly father in tow. You sat between Arthur and Simon, looking over to him and giving him a soft smile.
"What is it you brought us all together for," your father huffed deeply. Your mother, in turn, smacked at his arm and threatened him to be nice. He scoffed and looked away, coughing deeply.
You glanced up at Simon one more time. "I wanted to introduce you all to Simon. We're," you paused and breathed deeply. Simons hand found your shoulder, squeezing softly.
"We're mated," he finished your sentence and everyone stared. Hard.
Clint was the first to shoot up, taking a step towards Simon before you jumped between them. Christ, if your brother tried to beat his ass you would kill him. Clint snarled at you, causing Simon to stand. He was tall, you suddenly realized. Much, much taller than Clint.
Your father finally spoke up. "Sit down, Clint," he snarled and the two men sat. "How'd this happen, girl?" You shook your head.
"Just happened," you whispered.
"And we weren't told anything? How long has this been for?"
"I don't know, maybe a year? I've been busy with work," you huffed. You could feel your heartrate rising, heart pounding in your ears before Simon chuffed against your back. You heaved a deep sigh, closing your eyes as his fingers found your wrist gland.
No one spoke for some time, you finally sat next to Simon once more.
"Well I'm happy for you," Clair spoke up. "He seems like a good, strong Alpha. As long as he makes you happy, I'm all good," and you smiled at her. Your mother, off to the side, was nodding with her. With everyone, mostly calmed, small talk began.
A few of your nieces and nephews had piled in after hearing the commotion, piled in the entryway. A few had gone up to Simon, smelling him and he allowed it. Quietly sitting there, letting the pups even climb on him to get a better scent.
"That's not all I wanted to tell you," you whispered, playing with your fingers while watching Simon carefully lower down the little one who'd climbed on him. Your father closed his eyes, leaning back. He breathed deeply, holding his breath for a few moments.
"You're pregnant," he said. "Can smell it, not too different from Arthur," and once again, Clint blew up. He leaped for Simon, snarling hard. Simon didn't move, grabbing the pup in front of him and moving the little one out of the way before Clint landed on him.
Simon didn't respond to the punches battering against him, and Arthur tugged you out of the way. He was the only other Omega, other than your mother. Your father stood, growling loudly before launching into a fit of coughs.
Clint paused, staring down at Simon. "Fucking monster, getting my sister all caught in your messy ass military shit," and you stood. Shoving Clint hard, baring your own teeth. Clint turned on you, eyes wild. He stood over you and snarled, hands moving to reach for you. Simon, at that, finally jumped.
His hands caught Clints, grasping tightly and snarling harshly at him. It quieted everyone, Clint tugging to get his hands out of Simons grasp. "Touch her and I'll break every damned bone in that hand," and Clint finally bared his neck. Submitting.
Clint had always been the big bad Alpha, taking after your father. He'd gotten into so many fights in school, you'd never even had any form of a partner. If he smelled an Alpha on you, even if it had been an accidental brush, they'd be beaten.
A cramp pulled you away from everything, your hand finding your now swelling belly as pains wracked it. A warbled groan fell from your mouth and you felt hands gently wrap around you. They lowered you onto the couch, and when you opened your eyes Simon was crouched just between your legs.
You could smell the fear in his scent, changed from the anger that had just been surrounding it. "'s nothing, Si, probably just some braxton hicks. I'll be okay," and he shook his head.
"Pain isn't normal, lovie," he whispered. "Especially not after some severe stress," he added carefully.
No one moved, just watching the two of you. You smiled carefully, pressing your hands against his cheeks. "I promise," you told him.
He nodded slowly, finally giving in. "He's a good Alpha," your mother spoke up. "I don't care if anyone else here doesn't agree," she added. Your father nodded with her statement, sitting back down and closing his eyes once more.
"Clint can leave," he said and said man scoffed. He grabbed his coat and left, slamming the door shut behind him. You looked to your father, eyes wide. "He protects you. Any good Alpha would do that, packmate or not. I am," he paused. "Accepting of this," he finally finished.
Dinner was a quiet affair. Simon kept something of his touching you the entire time, finally pulling the balaclava off of him to eat. He complimented your mothers cooking, who pushed some of it to Arthur. Simon complimented him, alongside the few pups he could recognize as his.
And as you bid your goodbyes, promising to come back tomorrow for some more talking and celebrating, you watched your father shake Simons hand. There were some whispered words between them, and when Simon came back he once more slid the jacket around your shoulders.
He opened the passenger door for you, closing it carefully and climbing into the drivers seat. The ride back was quiet, and you watched as the lights and houses passed by you. His hand rested on your thigh, your fingers wrapped around a few of his own. His thumb drummed on the steering wheel to the beat of the song, and your head rested against the window.
"That went better than I was expecting," he suddenly spoke up. You gave a wet laugh, tears suddenly brimming your eyes. His head turned to look at you quickly before going back to the road. You could feel the hot tears running down your cheeks, the car slowing to a stop as you opened your eyes.
He pulled the passenger door open, tugging you out and pulling you into his arms. Your nose pressed into his chest, sobs finally spilling out of your chest.
"I just wanted them to love you like I do," you sobbed and he hummed against you, rocking the two of you slightly. Simon pressed a gentle kiss to the top of your head, chuffing gently against you.
"They just need to warm up to it," he whispered. "Once they actually know me, I'm sure they'll begin to accept it more. At least your father accepted me," he added. You nodded against his chest, propping your chin against it and looking up at him. His balaclava was still off, and he gave you a little smile of his own.
His fingers wiped away your tears, allowing you to press back against his chest and breathe deeply. Your tears had stopped, but you still felt so hurt. Your own flesh and blood, and they didn't like him. Clint was supposed to be your older brother, the Alpha who protected you. Not hurt the people you loved.
Your hurt turned to anger, pulling away from Simon. "If that motherfucker touches you again, I swear to god," and he shook his head. In the dark, you couldn't see much of his face. You hoped to god that Clint hadn't left any marks, you weren't sure what you'd do if you found out he had.
"Weren't the best punches I've ever had," he told you. "I've had worse, lovie. I promise you that nothings hurt," and you nodded carefully. His hands cupped your cheeks, pressing a gentle kiss against your lips.
When he pulled back, you whined and he gave a chuckle. "I'll give you more when we get back to the hotel," he told you. You nodded, letting him slide your arms through his jacket and zip it up.
"I love you," you whispered as he opened the passenger door. He pressed another kiss against your lips, squeezing your hand.
"And I love you," he responded. Closing the door, he went around the car and got back in. You watched as the lights flashed across his face, allowing yourself to soak in how he looked.
When you got to the hotel, he opened your door for you and offered a hand. Holding it tightly, he led you to the room. When he slid the key against the door, he opened it for you and led you in by the small of your back.
Kicking the door shut, he pulled you in and kissed you once more. "Bravest little Omega I've ever met," he whispered against your lips and you laughed. "Going to protect me from all the Alphas?" And you nodded, tears of laughter brimming your eyes.
With one more kiss to your lips, he tugged you against his chest. Gently rocking you once more, your arms wrapped around him as much as they could.
"Love you so damn much, Doc," he whispered against your hair.
"'n I love you, Si,"
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mulansaucey · 1 year
Text
Bat Wives Wine Night
AZRIEL X READER
This is my first thing I’ve put out to public eyes...ever. So please be nice. I had this idea for awhile and this is mostly a teaser to what I truly want to write. I want to make this a full imagine with smut. If you like this idea and want to see a spicier version to how this night ends please let me know. I’m always open to criticism and always looking for advice so as long as we are nice about it let me know what you think. Im gonna start writing more stuff and will be open to requests. Thank you and I hope you like this little teaser. 
PART 2:
WARNINGS: drugs and alch used responsibly, dirty thoughts by the bat boys
CONCEPT: The bat boys finally realize what their mates are up to on their top secret Wine Nights 
“Oh my gods…you’re right” Feyre softly said. 
     Feyre, Nesta, and I were sitting at the River House sipping on wine and enjoying what we call Bat Wives Wine Night when I had the realization that our husbands have had 500 plus years of experience and fun while us wives are in our 20’s being depressed and stressed for majority of our lives. This was unacceptable and not fair at all. We deserve to let loose and live a little. Go drink til we throw up, smoke mirthroot and tobacco as we pleased. To just be stupid, reckless teens. A night where we didn’t have to be perfect, just ourselves. We all looked at each other with understanding that our simple little wine nights just became a lot more fun. 
    “Okay ladies, once a month like we do now we keep letting our mates think we have wine, eat cheese on a platter and gossip. But let’s just go crazy, do whatever we want because we feel like it. Because we can. We’re young, hot, and rich. Let’s just be stupid, not enough to be dangerous but enough to have some memories to laugh fondly at just like our darling husbands. We are Bat Wives, I say we give them a run for their money.” I declare loudly watching my High Lady’s eyes light up with mischief (just like her mate). Nesta’s feline grin gave me the approval I needed from her. Thank the Mother our mates were not here to hear us declare our secret fun. 
    “Our mates will find out though, eventually. Cass is nosey, drills me on what happens on our Wine Nights. Such a gossip…” Nesta whispers the last part. 
    “Plus your mate is the Spymaster…” Feyre concludes by taking a sip of her wine. Yes he is, my beautiful, sweet, loving mate. Azriel. We’ve been married and mated for over a year now. I met him at a time when I swore off love at the nice age of 19 years old. But he was so kind and patient, building up our friendship first and making me feel seen as a person. He is a wonderful male and he had to fight many battles to get where he is today. But I am not Azriel, I’ve barely traveled out of my own court. Our perspectives can be quite different which I love but I want to create my own experiences as well. After the war, after almost dying I realized life can be taken from me at any moment and I want to spend those moments knowing I made good memories. That I lived. Even if it’s once a month with my sister in laws doing something as silly as smoking mirthroot. It’s something to ease the soul, bonding between just us girls. 
    “So what? Let’s see how long we can go til they figure it out. Make it a game, see how far we can go before they find out just how unhinged we are.” I giggle just a bit tipsy. The girls and I burst out laughing and start planning what we should do next month. 
*TWO YEARS LATER*
   Two years and counting. Our darling husbands STILL think we have a quiet night in with some books and snacks. It’s truly comical. It’s also nice to know something they don’t. 
“I’ll miss you.” Az murmurs in my hair, holding me til I walk into the River House front door. I tighten my arms around his waist and breathe him in. He takes a step back looking at me, love and adoration flowing through the bond between us. Az looks heart eyed, as if seeing me for the first time. I can’t tease him because I know for a fact I’m looking at him with the very same look. 
    “Can you guys just make out already so we can start drinking?” Nesta says unamused. I jumped back from Azriel, startled. When did she open the door? Nesta walks further away from us into a deeper part of the house. I turn back to find Az already looking at me. Something about Azriel is he is absolutely clingy in the best way possible. Physical touch and quality time are his love languages, any time we have to part it’s a bit dramatic because we simply hate saying goodbye. It’s the love I’ve always wanted. I love the Wine Nights as he has nights with his brothers to get away but nothings better than coming home and finding my place within his arms. 
    “If you ever wanna leave early just let me know and we can cuddle and I can go down on you.” Az’s cheeky grin showed proudly. I laugh while pushing him, he grabs my wrist playfully holding me to him. He brushes some hair from my cheek and presses his smooth lips to mine. We stand there for what feels like hours just feeling each other's breath mingle, when he glides his naughty tongue against my lips I pull away. Both us panting I say, “Go Az, before I actually ditch them for you.” I giggle. He very reluctantly peels his hands off my body and shoots up the sky with a wink, surely a promise of great fun when he picks me up tomorrow morning. 
        With the mating haze slowly leaving my brain a new found giddiness found its way in. We’ve started doing full on sleepovers instead of a few hours of mingling. That way we can return to the River House and clean up before our mates return to us. Truthfully it started after Feyre had way too many tequila shots and threw up for two hours begging us not to call for Rhys as our “cover” would be blown. I skip into the River House and take a look at my girls. 
    “Ready to fuck shit up?” I ask. “We’ve been ready, we were betting if you two would actually fuck on my front door.” Feyre says as fill her cups with wine, pregaming for later. Nesta laughs while grabbing my hand leading me into Feyre’s room. She has the biggest bathroom and closet for these occasions. We all start getting ready putting on our preferred style of makeup and clothing. Laughing loudly as we gossip about Beron’s hairline that keeps going further back as each year passes. We truly don’t know if it is but we all love roasting that horrible man. Once we are satisfied with our looks for the night we get ready to winnow to Veela, a club the IC doesn’t frequent too often. It’s newer and doesn’t have the huge crowd Rita’s does. It’s perfect, truly. We won’t run into anyone we know, not too crowded, but fun and rowdy. We pack the leftover mirthroot and tobacco from last month and winnow to the club saving us some time. We walk right in finding our usual table free in the corner. 
    “Let’s start with some shots ladies.” Nesta yells out heading to the bar, I’m a bit scared because Nesta’s choices in liquor are questionable at times. Feyre and I start people watching and laughing as we see the funny things the already drunk patrons are doing. I start rolling a blunt and a few j’s also a few cigarettes as I tend to want to smoke one after a good drink or two. Nesta comes back with the shots and our preferred mixed drinks in hand. We raise our glasses cheering for another successful Bat Wives Wine Night. 
    About an hour or so later we are tipsy, Nesta not so as she prefers to smoke mirthroot. Her struggles with drinking have lessened, she has a drink or two while she watches Feyre and I dance on tables. Nesta nursing a joint between her fingers swaying to the music she loved. Nesta says the plant helps her feel connected to it. Whatever, I don't care as long as we do what we want and feel safe doing it. I am a fan of both, I hop off the table and take the joint between my lips taking a long drag before exhaling into her mouth as we both giggle uncontrollably. Her red eyes meet mine, seeing Nesta relaxed and having fun is a privilege and I’m glad she feels safe enough to do so. We all love our mates but I think being with each other brings a new peace to our hearts. Sisters and friends, we are loved. For the first time in a long time we are loved. Her eyes widen, face slack as I laugh and turn I start coughing inhaling sharply as I see them. 
Our husbands. 
Our mates. 
Staring. 
    I gently pull Feyre off the table where she was dancing with two other fae, gently pushing her head to make her see what we see. Feyre chokes on her breath. 
“Shit…” Feyre mutters. Shit, indeed. 
*BOYS POV*
    Flying to the House of Wind, Azriel thought of his sweet mate. Years they’ve indulged their wives in their one night of secrecy. They deserved it, for being selfless and caring. Their mates have sacrificed a lot for them, for the Night Court. But they are busy bodies at heart, they can’t help but be curious. They love their wives, they just want to be included. Azriel lands on the balcony to see Cass and Rhys nursing a glass of whiskey. He walks in and pours himself a glass. 
    “Az, what do you think they do all night?” Cass says looking into his glass, pouting. Rhys looks unamused, Nesta probably told him off for being nosy. “Cass, they’re women. They drink their wine and dish about the new love interest in the books they read. Don’t think too hard you’ll hurt yourself.” Rhys chuckles as Cass throws a pillow at him. Rhys ducking slightly missing the pillow. 
    “I’m not but you know what I’m talking about. They smell like tequila and there’s traces of makeup and good perfume on them. Think about it, what do our mates truly get up to?” Cass says. Azriel sits and starts to think while Rhys and Cass get into it. Azriel the ever observant once couldn't have missed this right? He trusted his mate, knew she wouldn’t do anything stupid. Right? 
    Rhys stands after an hour or two of them not so obsessively tracking back to all the times they’ve had their Wine Nights. “Let’s go to the house now, we’ll say we forgot something. Catch them off guard.” He looks at the boys in confirmation. All their eyes light up in glee of possibly catching their mates doing something scandalous. But how they underestimate their wives is truly amusing. How they didn’t catch on after two years, even more so. 
    They set off for the River House when they landed there was silence. No giggling or tinking of wine glasses. Nothing. At first panic rushed in thinking someone hurt their mates but once they reached the master bedroom they saw clothes strung across the place, makeup and hair products messily sitting on the counter. The girls usual PJ’s on the floor. They went out.
     Cass scoffs, “I knew it! I KNEW THEY WENT OUT WITHOUT US! HA RHYS, I TOLD YOU!” he booms loudly, happy to be right and Rhys to be wrong. Azriel immediately makes a plan to find them, sending his shadows out. Once he gathered they were in the city they set their sights there. They went to Rita’s, not a trace. They searched restaurants and pleasure halls, Azriel questioning the staff there. They learned not only did they go out tonight but have frequented these places multiple times, without them. They were smart, Az gave them that. The girls used cash wherever they went instead of billing them, going as far as to use fake names and backstories when they would stop by the herb shop to purchase mirthroot and tobacco. Something they did not know their mates indulged in. For a second they questioned their mates, if they truly knew them. Now they for sure were set to find out answers. Azriel’s shadow reported to him they were across the city in a new club. 
    The music was pounding, drunk and high fae dancing or sitting and laughing. Azriel first spotted his High Lady and mate dancing on a table top, Feyre pouring tequila down his mate’s throat. Azriel couldn't lie, the sight made his pants tighten, seeing the hard liquor pouring down his wife’s very low top trickling onto her breasts. Watching her throat bob up and down, very similar sight to when she has him in her mout- “WHAT THE FUCK!” Rhys exclaims though it sounds more like a whisper compared to the very raunchy music booming in the background. Az notes that though Feyre lets loose at Rita’s and has fun, Feyre looks unhinged. As if she wasn’t the High Lady of Night but a 20 something year old who was having fun. Azriel laughed as he watched with his brothers, they stayed in the corner out of the way but still in eye sight of their girls. He watched his mate get off the table and steal the joint Nesta was nursing, blowing it in her mouth. Cass watches just as intently, in fascination and horniness. “I didn’t know they did THIS on their wine nights, I didn’t even know Nes smoked at all.” Cass says. He’s starting to wonder just how nice it would be to get Nesta this relaxed then fuck her for hours under smoke induced love making. Rhys is no better, watching Feyre swing her hips against the strangers around her. Wanting so badly to take her in the bathroom. But first it’s business. 
“Alright, brothers. They’ve had their fun now let’s crash.” Rhys said with a smirk. All together they marched towards their mates and stood waiting for them to realize. All had a mask of indifference though they really wanted to burst out laughing. One by one each girl’s head turned and paled. 
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inpraizeof · 9 months
Note
hi!! can i request a smutty benedict bridgerton x reader? where they’re married and while the reader is relaxing in their home library, reading, benedict comes in and starts to beg for attention. once he realizes that his darling wife isn’t planning on putting their book down, he starts to tease her and it ends up with him going down on her while she tries to continue reading.
i love your writing!!
oh my love
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benedict bridgerton x reader
synopsis: you can’t get enough of your book and your husband can’t seem to get his hands off of you
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
you didn’t even hear him come in. you had been too enthralled in your novel, toes curling as the pages got spicier and spicier. yet, the clamor he had made drew you out of the fantasy, and left you slamming it shut.
“can i not have some quiet time? this is a library after all, for reading..” you spat at benedict, who was busy turning to a new page in his sketchbook. he cleared his throat, and took out a piece of charcoal, “i’m going to pretend as if you didn’t say that.” he hummed, and began to sketch.
“why?” you picked up your book, adjusting the way you were sitting in the chair.
“because it hurt my feelings.” he didn’t even look up from his sketchbook to catch the sight of you rolling your eyes.
you didn’t even respond and minutes later, benedict got up, setting his things down.
he walked over to you, and you glanced up, shutting the book again, “can i help you?” you were getting annoyed. as much as you loved him, sometimes you couldn’t stand him.
and this was one of those moments.
“benedict!” you shrieked as he grabbed the book from your hands. you stood up and ran to grab it, but he had thrown it up in the air, and you were struggling to reach it. your face was buried in his chest as you strained an arm to grab your book.
but he wasn’t budging. he held it tightly in his arm above you, “come on, you know you want it..” he teased you, a finger booping your nose. but that only got you even more mad, “we don’t have kids yet and you won’t be able to if you keep this up.” you threatened him, and it worked, as benedict with a frown on his face, handed you the book.
“thank you.” you spoke breathlessly and went to sit at the large loveseat in the center of the room. you kicked your slippers off and relaxed on it, head on the armrest with your feet just on the top of the seat.
benedict huffed and walked back to his chair.
you hoped it would stay like that. the two of you existing in silence. until you realized that benedict had been slowly scooting his chair closer to you.
“what are you doing?” you set the open book on your chest and watched him, hands still in the pages.
he shrugged, “trying to spend time with my wife. like i’ve been trying to do for the past hour!” he threw his hands up in exasperation and you sighed, “fine! do whatever you want, just don’t let it disrupt my book.”
if he wanted to coexist in the library with you, that was fine. if he wanted to just sit there with you, that was also fine.
but his fingers trailing up your legs was on the border of fine.
“ben..” you said his name lazily as you felt the cool air hit your thighs, but he didn’t say anything.
you continued to read, but benedict was being too quiet, and even more so when you realize he was pulling your undergarments off. you grabbed his hand, the one that was holding the plush of your belly and peeked out from the book, “you said as long as it doesn’t disrupt your reading..”
he was right. you had said that, and he was being ever so quiet. so you let him continue.
moments rolled by and benedict was pushing your legs apart, tongue already on your cunt as he did so.
“fuck.” you muttered, surprised at the feeling, you focused, knowing this was exactly what he wanted.
benedict hummed, and you twitched slightly. he wanted to laugh, but he was determined. his tongue swirled around and he tasted you, he wanted to take you right here right now, but he had to wait. he had to wait until you finally discarded that book and focused on him.
you moaned softly, unable to stop yourself, you tried your best to keep them quiet, but benedict was too good.
benedict was so good, that on your wedding night, you had let the entire ton know just by your screams and your cries of pleasure.
benedict felt the hard slam of a book against his head and he pulled back, “ow!” he rubbed his head and you were so weak that you couldn’t even react.
the expression on your face told benedict that he had won.
“sorry.” the word was mumbled as the book dropped to the ground, and benedict’s fingers were taking over the absence of his tongue.
he rammed into you, and you were moaning, head falling harder into the armrest, you were so close.
benedict could feel it, you were tight around his fingers and he knew he had to get you there.
his mouth was on you again in an instant, and as the pressure built up, your moans got higher and higher until it snapped.
you were shaking, cursed and strings of moans echoed into the room and benedict was enamored with watching you fall apart.
“oh my love..” you were panting, chest falling hard as you blinked. benedict was clearly pleased with himself, and kissed your thighs, “mhm..more?” you didn’t even finish nodding before he was on you again.
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