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#if you write fanfics
wanduhhh · 2 years
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L’Amour Looks Something Like You
Wanda/Reader (18+)
Chapter 5: The Disbelieving Angel👼
A/N: this took weeks to force myself to update my mind is torturous. Idk if there will be any more chapters after this one, unless I find inspo/anyone has any inspo for me x thank you for reading!
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Peeling the duvet off your body as quietly as possible you attempted to get out of bed without waking Wanda. You had looked down and noticed red marks all over the top of Wanda’s collarbone, no doubt trailing lower. You couldn’t imagine having to have a conversation with the redhead, whilst looking at the marks you had covered her body in. Bending slightly you grabbed last nights outfit and clutched it to your bare form; trying to preserve what dignity you had left.
You successfully left the bed and tiptoed towards the door, wincing every time you heard a creak. Pulling the door open as slowly as you possibly could- yet you were unable to stop the resounding creak it made. “Fuck” you muttered to yourself as you cursed the old wooden doors, the shuffling on the bed behind you told you that Wanda had woken up.
“You know the walk of shame doesn’t work as well when you live in the same house right” you rolled your eyes and turned round. “I was Not doing the walk of shame I just uh, have to pee” god you didn’t even believe yourself. You burned holes in the duvet as you refused to meet Wanda’s inquisitive eyes. From your peripheral you could spot her slight smirk and you felt infuriated that she was still so relaxed.
“I’m going back to sleep, I’ll just let you go wallow. Good luck covering those up by the way” your hand flew up to hold your neck, as if holding the marks would make them disappear. With that Wanda threw the covers back over her head and you walked out the door dumbfounded.
You spent the day in your room, confused and frustrated. Running downstairs to grab something for lunch became a covert mission.
Despite living in the same building as the woman you had managed to avoid her for a full day, but the fact that she had also avoided you didn’t slip your mind. The lack of her usual musical presence left the house feeling dull. You missed watching her dance to Kate Bush as she cooked dinner, always humming along. Your quiet pining had consumed you.
You knew this defiant avoidance was futile and you knew just the person to give you the kick up the ass you desperately needed.
“You look like shit” crackled through your phone speaker, “thanks Lena, hello to you too”. As nice as it was to see her through the screen, you wanted nothing more than a bone-crushing hug; you didn’t tell that to her cocky face though. “So what have you been doing whilst I’ve been gone, or should I say who have you been doing” you felt her eyes flicker down to the marks over your throat, and for the second time today your hands reached up to cover them. “Shut it Lena, it’s such a weird situation and I can’t avoid it because she’s literally in the room next door-“ “wait wait wait, you and witchy?” You knew you shouldn’t have opened your mouth.
“I mean I knew it would happen but just not so fast. What about her AI boyfriend?” You rolled your eyes at the thought, “haven’t seen much of him in a while, not that I’m complaining”. It felt good to be able to vent to someone, and the screen between you made you miss Yelena more than you thought you would. When you had to say bye to each other you sniffled and told Yelena it was hay-fever.
Talking through everything with your friend made you feel a bit more ready to face Wanda and talk like adults. It forced you to acknowledge how stupid the two of you were being, avoidance had been the default for so long.
You hopped up with momentum, knowing now that you were ready to face this and force Wanda to face it too if that’s what it took.
When you pushed open Wanda’s bedroom door you found her where you left her that morning, duvet over her head with red curly hair poking out the top. It only added to your confidence.
You went over and peeled the covers back, lightly chuckling at Wanda’s scrunched up nose when the light met her eyes and then you got in and pulled the duvet over both of you. The confusion you were expecting was non existent as Wanda scooted closer to you, pulling your arm over her bare waist and shuffling against you til she was comfy. Breathing a sleepy “took you long enough” before you both let yourself fall into a happy nap.
You woke up a few hours later to the feeling of soft fingertips tracing the length of your nose, hearing a quiet chuckle each time it made your nose twitch. You let your face break into a sleepy grin, not yet opening your eyes. Wanda smiled down at you and placed a gentle kiss on the tip of your Cupid’s bow. So soft that you almost believed you had imagined it.
“Good morning sleepy” floated through your ears as you lay with eyes closed, you knew if you opened them you’d be met with a blinding grin and eyes that would render you speechless. You let yourself bask in the soft moment without overwhelming yourself. Grunting lightly to tell Wanda you were indeed awake, peeking one eye open to be met with a smiling Wanda.
“Hey” you had both decided to stay whispering, buried under the darkness of the duvet immersing yourselves in the bubble you had created. “Hey” she spoke back, nuzzling her nose against yours gently. It was sickeningly sweet. “So we’re doing this?” Wanda questioned you, despite the seriousness of her question you both remained smiling. Letting yourself kiss her soft lips quickly before nodding, you were indeed doing this.
“Just is now? No one else?” Wanda’s pointed tone had your mind flicking back to grinding against Natasha and then again to hearing Wanda with Vision’s name on her tongue. It caused you to since slightly, willing the memories away. “Just us” you have her another kiss to seal the deal. She mumbled “good” against your lips, eyebrows drawn together and you knew she was thinking the same thing you had just shooed out of your brain.
It was nighttime before you both managed to peel yourselves out of the cocoon, only because Wanda’s stomach rumbled loud enough that it had you both giggling into each other’s hair.
You sat at the kitchen island watching Wanda cook for you both. Swaying as she stirred, one of your shirts resting just on the swell of her ass. Your heart ached in that moment when you thought of all the days you had watched her dance alone rather than spin her under your arm. It had you desperately scraping your chair away and rushing to pull her into your arms. She furrowed her brows at the intensity but let you kiss her senseless.
Your days were blissful with the redhead, late nights drinking wine and giggling, days spent drawing together as you lay on the grass in the backyard. Wanda would make you daisy chains and kiss every new freckle she saw on your sun kissed skin. It was as if nothing; and everything had changed.
As sweet as Wanda was you got to experience more of her fiery side in the weeks you spent adjusting to life as a couple. Little arguments between you would spark a fire in Wanda’s eyes. Head tilting, eyebrow lifting slightly. Although it meant some nights you’d be sent to sleep alone, it did nothing but enamour you more.
You loved Wanda so wholeheartedly the more you got to know every aspect of her. And when she would slip into the cold bed behind you in the middle of the night, shuffling her arm underneath you whilst whispering how she was still mad; you loved her even more.
Wanda would leave you little notes around the house, sometimes reminding you to brush your teeth when you were having a bad day, mostly reminding you just how much she loved you.
You had weekly FaceTime dates with Yelena, where you would prob the laptop on the table and you and Wanda would squeeze together on the sofa and ask Yelena all about her travels. She said seeing you so in love together made her equally queasy and homesick.
You hadn’t had sex in months, yet you had made love almost every day. Never growing tired of the way Wanda fell apart under your mouth and your hands. There were times when slow passion wasn’t enough for Wanda, especially when she felt she had to remind you exactly who you belonged to.
Most notably the Halloween party you and Wanda had decided to host. The thought of letting people into the bubble you had been living in scared you, but Wanda’s excitement about couples costumes more than made up for it. She had decided that you would go as an angel and a demon, and despite your protests that you were the true angel out of the two of you, Wanda stood before you in a white slip on with golden wings attached to her back.
You were in a tight black dress, small red horns on the top of your head. You felt ridiculous until Wanda’s eyes devoured you, honing in on the skin between the dress and the tops of your thigh high boots. The costumes were definitely worth it.
Wanda had invited all of her friends and knowing Natasha would be there made you a little nervous, mostly in anticipation of how Wanda would react to seeing the two of you in the same room again. You wondered just how angelic she would be throughout the night.
When Natasha arrived, dressed in a latex suit claiming to be an assassin for the night it had you gulping air. Not because you were overcome with lust, rather because you anticipated how Wanda would react to seeing you so much as say hello to the other redhead. Wanda was on your side from then like a magnet. Barely parting to refill a drink. It should have overwhelmed you, you should’ve been offended at the lack of trust in you; but you kissed her.
You welcomed the way her arms wrapped around you in a vice grip and every time she met your lips with her own, you kissed her back twice as hard.
A few hours into the night you and Natasha had smoothed over the awkwardness, falling into an easy conversation about baby Yelena. Deciding you needed Yelena’s input you FaceTimed her, you and Natasha squishing together to fit in the frame as you all laughed. Wanda sipped her drink bitterly, watching as you were too close to Natasha for her liking.
The sweet wine in Wanda’s cup was gulped down in one, stood across the room back against the wall openly glaring at Natasha. “Her red, cool it down your cheeks are starting to match your hair” Carol mumbled beside the seething redhead, playfully poking her side.
“Shut it Danvers, look at her she basically has her tongue down y/n’s throat” Carol chuckled at that, Wanda always one for hyperboles. “Wands she has an arm round her shoulder, if you’re so bothered go stake your claim” Carol emphasised her sentence by banging her scythe on the ground. Love advice from the grim reaper, only seemed right.
However, when she watched Wanda walk over and drag you to the stairs by the arm, she realised her mistake. “Ummm what happened there?” Yelena’s delayed response came from the phone, cutting through the silence of the room. “I uh- may have encouraged Wanda to ‘claim’ y/n” Natasha rolled her eyes, “so you told them to go fuck upstairs?”.
“I told them to go fuck upstairs”.
Despite frantically asking Wanda what was wrong as she marched you to your bedroom, she refused to reply even once. Taking 2 steps at a time, wings and tits bouncing in sync with the power in her steps. When she got you close enough to the bed she threw you onto it, straddling you in one swoop.
Although you were confused, you were more distracted now. Wanda was wearing white garters, clipped together with a love heart on each thigh, your mouth was watering at the way they stretched over her inner thighs.
The juxtaposition of Wanda’s angelic appearance and the devilish way she wrapped her hand around your throat was not lost on you. You thought then that the Halloween costumes should have been reversed.
“Do you act like a slut for everyone baby?, or just redheads” although she posed it as a question you knew better than to answer. Cowering under the way she smirked down at you, “hmm too dumb to speak are we? That’s okay dumb baby. You won’t need to use your brain just now anyway. Just that pretty mouth”.
With finality she pushed you flat on your back and lifted herself to hover above your head. Your eyes met her lacy white panties, able to see how wet they were already just from her taking charge. You desperately arched your head forward and whined at the way she held you back by your hair. “Please Wanda, please let me make you feel good” she was still a sucker for your doe eyes.
She lowered herself onto your waiting mouth, your tongue immediately lapping at her through her underwear. Trying your best to wordlessly convince her to remove the panties so you could properly taste her.
She lasted 2 whole minutes before giving in, slipping a shaky hand down to pull her panties to the side. Before letting you delve in however, she held you by the hair and looked down into your eyes. “You’re going to make me cum and then you are going to behave yourself, got it?” Before you could reply she sat her weight down onto your open mouth. Letting out a moan that you knew floated downstairs.
You pushed your tongue inside her and moaned at how good she tasted, how warm she was. Wanda had her hands wound into your hair, rutting against your mouth and taking the pleasure she needed. Her halo bounced vigorously with each movement, of all the angels you still thought Wanda was the sweetest.
When her hips stuttered against your mouth and you felt yourself swallowing down all she had to offer, she let herself flop beside you. Halo squint and a lazy smirk on her face. You rolled over and kissed her, licking into her mouth and chuckling when you heard her moan at her own taste.
“I love you Wanda” you knew she knew this, knew it by the way you had her coffee order memorised. Knew it in the way you never ran her a bath if she didn’t have a bath bomb, knew it in the way you brushed out every knot in her hair after a long day of work. But when you said it, it didn’t fail to make her tear up. “I love you so much” she whispered against your nose.
You helped her up a minute later, shuffling her panties back into place and straightening her garters. Kissing her over the top of her panties just to watch her breath hitch. You fluffed out her wings and tamed her curls, lightly pinching her red cheeks and leading her back to the party by her hand.
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pixiemage · 7 months
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Please, for the love of god, please don’t be this person. No matter how long it’s been since an update, no matter how many unfinished stories are sitting on their account, no matter what - do not be this person.
Not only is it insanely rude, but you also do more damage than you think be being such a self-entitled ass about something someone created for free and for fun. “This author” can see what you say.
RIP decency indeed.
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orcboxer · 9 months
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those first couple weeks after escaping a time loop have gotta be disorienting as all fuck. all those little cues that used to tell you what's about to happen are now triggers that cause you to brace for something that isn't coming. you have to relearn the permanence of death -- hell, you have reacquaint yourself with the entire concept of finality altogether. everything keeps changing but it never changes back and you keep having to remind yourself that this is normal. "it won't reset anymore," you echo to yourself, over and over and over, like a broken record, like you're still trapped in a loop, like someone who escaped the time loop but was doomed to bring it into the future with them
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formlessvoidbeast · 24 days
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newbie fic authors, shooting themselves in the foot: This fic is bad haha I suck at writing lol I am being mean to myself in the hopes that you will be nice to me but actually am dissuading anyone from even clicking on my fic because all I have done to advertise it is tell you why you shouldn't read it
me: I am King Big Dick of Fanfic Mountain and I have arrived in your fandom with the Express Intention of writing my Very Favorite Fics, which I will generously allow you to read. You're welcome.
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bizarrelittlemew · 1 year
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Are you frustrated you can't leave second kudos on AO3? or third kudos? or whatever-who's-counting kudos?
Well, have I got the html for you!
Plop any of these in a comment (by copy&pasting the code) to make an author's day and show your appreciation!
Second kudos: <img src="https://i.ibb.co/tHMjbb6/second-kudos.png" alt="second kudos">
Third kudos: <img src="https://i.ibb.co/52bggQH/third-kudos.png" alt="third kudos">
nth kudos: <img src="https://i.ibb.co/6y7qGtC/nth-kudos.png" alt="nth kudos">
yet another kudos: <img src="https://i.ibb.co/wKtcj0s/yet-another-kudos.png" alt="yet another kudos">
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It will look something like this (and will be transparent with white outline on dark backgrounds):
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Feel free to spread and use these as much as you like! (and if you have ideas for other variations, let me know ✌️)
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fmhobeus · 1 month
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so, nerdy loser college boy choso *sighs* *opens legs*
a/n: just so you know, this man is gonna make you do all the hard work for a piece of that loser boy dick 😮‍💨 so... um so at some point around 2000 words in i realised this is way more than a hc post :3 eat it up if you will!
nerdy!choso who borderline has no friends except his gaming buddies who doesnt meet irl like ever. he doesnt like going to classes, especially this one. he doesnt need it but it's a requirement for all first years. and boy is glad it is when he sees you come in.
nerdy!choso who only listens to discussions when you're talking. suddenly he needs to put down his headphones and nod at every word you're saying. his eyes follow every gesture of your hand, every sway of your ass, every single time you fix your hair.
nerdy!choso who is starting to get a bit enamored with you, your style, your way of speaking. he loses track of time gawking at you in class from the last benches as you prettily do all the work in the class. he hates how beautifully your hair falls on your face, how nicely your clothes fit you despite being pretty modest for college. he hates how he can see the silhouette of your tits when you turn to the side. but he's too much of a gentleman to keep looking.
nerdy!choso who ends a game early when he remembers you, lying and saying that he had promised someone to meet them somewhere. the place is his bathroom and the person was you. god, you really shouldn't wear those tight jeans to class y'know? how will he continue to be a gentleman if you do?
nerdy!choso who despises groupwork but prays to dear god this class has some reason to pair you two together. he's getting so desperate to talk to you knowing damn well he too pussy to do it on his own. and the lord answers his prayers, the teacher assigns groups of three for a presentation. it's you, him and some slacking trust fund baby.
nerdy!choso who is about to combust and have a full blown panic attack when he sees you approach him after class with that smile on your face that would make the angels swoon. you're going on about distributing the work equally and what not while he is trying his fucking hardest to not accidently make eye contact with you and piss his pants : (
nerdy!choso who now has your name, your number and your email and he feels like the happiest man on earth. his hands are literally shaking as he responds to your request to call. he's overthinking every word he types.
choso: yeah i can do wednesday. choso: i'll be okay with whatever day you want.
nerdy!choso who hops on video call and short circuits with a view of you in an oversized band tee and a brief view of your room. why did you have to be this pretty? why did you have to video call him when you couldve done the work on text? why did you have to put your hair up like that? why oh why did you have you say "choso? hey, you there?" so seductively to bring him back to the present?
nerdy!choso who gets like no work done in a 30 minute call which felt like three hours. he knew he would hardly be paying attention so decided to record the call with your consent, saying he'd need the notes you were typing out on screen only to play it back and stroke his dick to you for what might've have been the twentieth time this week. his strokes only getting faster as you say his name in that voice he imagines sounds way better moaning and screaming it instead.
nerdy!choso who, after the presentation, is on greeting terms with you when he sees you studying in the library. he sits as far away from you as he can while still being able to see you. occupying the coziest corner of the library to stare at you study right when you come up to him.
"can i join you, choso? i'm all alone and your space seems comfy" you say with a smile, "of course, i dont mean to disturb you, is saw you were on your own too, so..."
uh oh, uh oh, uh oh. god no. please no. please dont say yes. please dont be staring at her like some dumb idiot (too late) please.
"uh... yeah sure why not?" he awkwardly says as he makes room for you to keep your things. he was such an idiot for thinking he could say no to your pretty face in the first place.
nerdy!choso who is absolutely drunk on your scent. it feels way better than any alcohol he's ever had. he feels like an animal in heat when he smells your sugary perfume mixed with the styrofoam-y air conditioned smell of the library. you're gonna kill him, yknow? how is he supposed to respond to this? what is one to do when their stupid college crush sits next to them? he gives you a half smile before furiously typing away on reddit, the only place with answers for losers like him.
nerdy!choso whose hands. oh his hands. (can be i a big whore for a second?) his long hands that feel like they're the size of your face. his kempt, beautiful and trimmed nails. his lengthy fingers that seem to yearn for something more to foddle with than just the keyboard or controller. he typed as such an insane pace it made your pussy ache. he was going so fast, jesus. those hands were meant to do more than just ask "how to talk to girls" on reddit.
nerdy!choso who (on the advice of reddit) asks if you would want him to order something for you. you tell you had a frappuccino not too long ago and that it was quite sweet and filling. and he hates himself for thinking that he could give you something much sweeter and filling than that like a horny fourteen year old.
nerdy!choso who is now determined to not come off as a creep so he does his work with the focus of four adderalls. he is typing as fast as his heartbeat, not realising he got two classes worth of work done in just an hour. he looks over at you, blissfully unaware of the absolute war in his mind.
nerdy!choso who feels as though if he doesn't muster up the courage to ask you out right then and there, he'll probably be the biggest loser on the planet. (as if he wasn't already)
nerdy! pathetic! choso who stutters a million times and barely gets the job done then too. his eyes are scanning your entire being (trying his best to not gawk at your tits) for any sign of discomfort.
"so- uhh so ummm... wo-would you, like, uh... like to do this again? sometime?... i got a.. a lot of work done today, so.."
oh heavens, the sheer nervousness in his tone makes you want to pull his pants down and show him how to really get work done.
you agree with a smile, even suggesting a better, more ambient (more romantic) cafe to study in. choso's heart is about to burst and flood the fucking library with his blood the way it is beating at an alarming rate.
"umm yeah uh 5 sounds... awesome... i hope it isn't a-a bother to you?" "no way, choso. i loved today," you offer him a smile as you gather your things, "i really like your hair, by the way" "i like your hair too, y-y-you smell very nice", he gulps.
fuck. why did he say that? what? you smell nice? who says that? is he like ten? you can't help but giggle at the sheer embarassment on his face.
he feels as though he's gonna melt into a puddle and turn to stone and throw up all at the same time.
nerdy!choso who is the most stupidly hot guy you've ever met, you think as you go giggling back to your dorm. mental note: pick a skimpy outfit for 5pm ;)
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patrophthia · 5 months
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mini skirt | theodore nott
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pairing: theodore nott x reader
wc: 3.5k
genre: smut (minors DNI), fluff, best friends to lovers, meddling blaise zabini just coz, they’re in love 🤢🤢, self indulgent im so sorry for the person i am
smut tags: dry humping, coming untouched, (very little) oral sex, come eating, unprotected sex (don’t do this!!), fingering, size kink, breeding kink, bulge kink, cream pie, so much dirty talk oml, big dick theo 😞, reader being shorter than theo, reader wearing a mini skirt, lots of cussing
summary: blaise zabini’s idea of how to play matchmaker might be different from the traditional way of doing it but at least you ended up getting dicked down, so you guess his method works too.
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Blaise Zabini's idea of playing match maker is whispering to you —in a not so quiet way, that he'd heard 'Nott's got a big dick' and though you swatted him away. Face disgruntled, mumbling about how you did not want to know about your best friend's private parts. You're terrible enough of a person for your eyes to drop to his crotch when he sat down on the couch opposing yours.
There's a call of your name, once, twice. Before Theodore leaned forward, his voice loud enough for your eyes to tear itself from his thighs to his eyes. You gulped, hoping —hoping that he thought you'd blanked out and just happened to be staring at a very unfortunate spot. "Hmm?"
Theodore's held onto your gaze, lazying back onto his coach. "You okay? I asked if you wanted to head back up but you didn't answer."
"Head back up?" You repeated. "Head where?"
He eyes you suspiciously. "To your dorm?" Theodore gets up from his seat and leans down to crouch beneath you, staring up at you. "Or mine?"
You blink. Mind running in all kind of ideas —save for the ones you knew he meant when he asked you this question. You shift slightly in your side, scanning the Slytherin's common room as the party rage on; it's nothing too big, a get together between all seventh year supplied with alcohol —that Draco definitely did not buy just to impress the golden boy, not at all.
"I'm pretty sure I saw Draco take Harry up to your dorm, and neither of them look like they're exhibitionists." You say off handedly, looking down at him. "Besides, I'm actually enjoying myself here."
And to prove yourself, you get up from your seat; pulling your mini skirt low enough to cover your ass. Theodore, despite having every chance to peer underneath it, remains respectful as he plays with the hem of your skirt. "You are?"
"You aren't?" You ask back, trying not to squirm from the way his finger brushes against your thigh. Salazar this was your best friend for shit's sake, knowing that he could hypothetically have a big dick should not turn you on as much as it was.
Theodore shakes his head, slowly, almost as if he was in a haze as he quietly tells you. "Not really."
"Let's head up then," you tell him, and though both of your voices are low —barely even audible considering how loud Mattheo decided to play his music. Theodore was able to understand you perfectly, picking himself up as he used your waist as his guide. "Come on."
His pinkie finger catches onto yours as he gets onto his feet, him towering over you the slightest bit. And though, Theodore and you leaving a party early to turn in for the night was a sight your friends were used to by now —knowing that nothing ever did came out of leaving the two of you alone to your own devices. Something about how Theodore was looking at you makes them think that that might just change tonight.
But, they regress and bid the two of you goodnight with a few sporting playful frowns on how you never stay with them until the party actually ends.
You only smile, leading Theodore up the stairs to your dorm like every other night. Once in the comfort of your room, you sit yourself down on your bed, patting the spot for besides you for Theodore to take. He did as told, melting into your touch as you brush his hair back. "How much did you drink?"
His eyes are shut, face leaning into the palm of your hand as his own grips onto your skirt, tugging you closer to him. "Just those two shots we took when we first went down."
You hum, letting him pull you to him. "Did you smoke?" Theodore shakes his head slightly, before opening his eyes back up at you. You laugh lightly. "Then what's up with you tonight? I'm always the one dragging us back."
"Just tired, I guess." He murmurs.
"You guess?" You ask him, standing up —letting his hands fall where it'd been trailing up your skirt back to his lap, lingering slightly on what sits above it. "When are you ever not tired?"
Theodore laughs at your words, eyes crinkling as he did so. "When I watch you play quidditch," he says, pushing himself up to press his back against the head of your bed. Watching as you shuffle towards your wardrobe, picking out a pair of sweats along with two shirts he'd left at your room. "Or when you're drunk out of your mind and I'd to have to play pretend as your boyfriend and take care of you."
You snort at his words, picking out a pair of shorts for yourself. "You don't have to pretend to be my boyfriend to take care of me."
"Mhmm," he hums from his spot, lounging lazily as you walk up to his side, the change of clothes in hand. "But it's more affective that way." His hand finds its way to your hips, pulling you closer to him. "And I like it. I like pretending to be yours."
There's a split second where his eyes falters, looking at you almost nervously as he waits for you to respond. "You do?"
"Mhmm," he hums, pushing himself up to sit straight. "More than anything."
It's nauseating to see him look at you —eyes lacking their usual stoic and disinterest to instead be replaced by lust and adoration.
Without thinking twice, you leaned down meeting his lips halfway as your eyes flutters shut. And though seated, Theodore was still tall enough to kiss you back with ease. Letting you melt into the feeling of his soft lips moving slowly and desperately against yours.
"Fuck," Theodore mutters breathlessly, he pushes against your hand; dropping your (mostly his) clothes to the floor. "You have no idea how long I've wanted to do that."
"What?" You giggle, letting him pull you onto his lap. "Kiss me?"
"To kiss you again," He murmurs, attaching his lips back onto yours; a soft whimper slipping out of his lips when his clothed cock brushes against your core through his swift movements.
Fuck, Blaise was not lying.
In between your legs, underneath beige slacks, Theo's giant cock ruts up to you. You gasp into his mouth. "Ah—" you try to catch your breath. "—fuck, Theo. You've been wanting to kiss me since we were thirteen?"
"Mhmm," he hums, long slender hands gripping onto your waist before he slides one underneath your shirt and lays it flat against your tummy. His free hand, resting on your thigh, guiding you down onto him. "You're the only girl I ever want to kiss."
It's silly, you know it is —especially when his cock was pressing into your cunt, only separated by a thin layer of clothing— and yet you can't help but smile up at him, almost giggling when you ask him. " 's that why you asked me to be your first kiss?"
"Mhmm." He's smiling when he kisses you. "Can you blame me?" His tongue licks at your top lips, quick and gentle, trying to gauge on what you tasted like. "Prettiest girl at Hogswart and she was willing to be my first kiss."
His hand moves grips onto your waist, his touch blazing hot. "... Flatterer," you say, a playful pout prominent on your lips.
He chuckles, pressing his lips back onto yours, hand moving from your thigh to tug at your shirt. When you nod, Theodore pulls away just enough for him to take your shirt off and toss it Salazar knows where.
He doesn't even try to hide his staring, canting his hips upwards as he held you down. "Can you feel that?" He asks breathlessly, almost whining as he humps against you. "Can you feel how hard you make me?"
You could only moan, nodding dumbly as you rolled your hips. "Fuck—" he says against your lips, "—how'd you get even prettier, baby?"
And despite how hot —how nauseating it is to feel his boner pressing onto your wet cunt, you can't help but giggle at his words, at how turned on he got just at the sight of your tits. "It's just boobs."
"It's your boobs." He hand goes up behind you, making quick work at the clasps before kissing your chest, licking at your nipples; his hips not halting in its movement. "So so pretty."
His hand slips down, going underneath your skirt to knees at you thigh. "Shirt—" you roll onto him, breathless each time you feel just how hard he was. "—shirt, Theo."
Though incoherent, Theodore still understood you enough to pull his shirt off of himself before attaching his lips back onto you. His tongue glides against yours, swallowing your moans up when he bucks particularly hard.
It’s humiliating how the simple act of humping, combined with Theo’s hand playing with your tits, pinching and rolling your nipple between his long fingers with his tongue exploring your mouth has you writhing on top of him.
"Theo, ah—" you whine, hands gripping onto his shoulders to steady yourself, a familiar warmth building in your stomach. "— wait, fuck!"
Theodore's hips coming to a halt, as he watch you cum on top of him —in awe, without him even having touched you. "Did you just… ?"
You whine, pressing your face against his bare shoulder to hide just how embarrass you were. Theodore pulls you back, looking at you with what you could only assume was love. "Did you just come, baby?"
You nod bashfully, hands going to cover your face just for him to pin both of them down. "So cute, so so pretty." He kisses you roughly, rutting up to you. "Gonna fuck you nice and full, how’s that sound?"
Theodore only frowns when you nod, always having been the talkative one in your relationship. “Words, baby. That sound good to you?”
“Ah!” Your panties stick to your cunt uncomfortably, feeling all too messy when he grinds his cock onto you. “Good,” you whine, “ ‘s good.”
Theodore smiles, pressing a quick kiss onto your lips as a reward. His hand trails down to your thighs, flipping your skirt up before groaning at the sight of his beige slacks soiled by your slick and cum. "Look at the mess you made, didn’t even have to touch you.”
Sliding your panties to the side, Theodore runs two fingers down your slit. "Even your cunt's pretty," he murmurs, bringing his finger up to his mouth to licks at your juices. "You taste even better."
You're pouting as you watch him play with your pussy, fingers pressed onto your clit, going back in for another taste before you finally move down his crotch, just enough for you to palm at his cock.
"Fuck—" he whimpers, hips bucking onto your hand.
Feeling proud you pulled such a reaction out of him, you reach for his belt, lifting yourself up off of him as he helps rid himself of his slacks. Pulling back his boxers, you will yourself not to drool over the sight of his long and thick cock, milky from the precum leaking from its tip.
Your hand moves on its own, wrapping around the base of his hard cock only to find that your hand was too small to wrap all the way around him. "Why didn't you tell me your dick was huge?."
"You want me to —fuck—" Theodore whines, cock twitching in your hand as it begged for you to move. "You want me to tell my best friend about the size of my cock?"
"Yeah?" You move your hands up, thumb running along his tip. "Biggest dick I've ever seen."
"You never told me you had —fuck, baby— never told me you had a perfect cunt either." Theodore moans, the sight in front of him feels like it came straight out of a porno. His best friend and her small hands playing with his cock, tits out with only her tiny skirt stopping him from fucking her into the mattress.
You giggle softly before leaning down to take him inside your mouth. "Fuck!" Theodore choked out, hips roughly thrusting into your mouth. He's too big for you to fit in entirely in your throat and he knows it. And he's too close to cumming in your mouth to keep you were you are.
His hand pulling your head up and away from his cock swiftly. His eyes are shut, head leaning back against your headboard as he breathes heavily.
Your eyes are teary when he opens his eyes back up, and he wills himself not to think about how it's the result of him fucking your face. Theodore brings you up to sit between his legs, kissing you desperately, groaning when he tastes himself on your lips.
Your hand goes back to grab at his length and he whines, pressing his face into your neck and squirms underneath your touch. "Wait, fuck—" his hand goes to stop you, brain going dead as you pumped his cock. "—fuck, fuck wait."
Theodore moves away from your touch, pressing your hand down onto your mattress as he heaves heavily. "Shit— Next time," he whines, "we can do all that next time," he murmurs against your neck, pulling his head away to look at you, he adds: "but I need to fuck you. Please, just let me fuck you. I'll do anything to feel your cunt and fill you up nice and full, please baby."
And when he pleads for you so nicely, who were you to deny him anything? He kisses you again, laying you down on your back, whispering soft thank you’s as he presses open mouth kisses down your body. Slender hands roaming around as he tries to map you out. It's only when Theodore flips your skirt up, ripping away your panties to give himself a full view of your throbbing pussy did you realize what he's about to do.
"Hey, I liked those!"
"I'll buy you more, baby." You're dripping in front of him and he think he might be losing his mind. "Need to eat you out first."
"Thought you wanted to fuck me," you whine, gasping softly when he slides his fingers over your pussy, "why can you play with —fuck."
You pout at him, not expecting him to slide his finger inside you while you talked. "Why can you— ah! —play with me when I can't play with you."
"Not playing baby, just stretching you out," he tells you with a soft smile, leaning over to kiss your pout away. "Not gonna fit unless we stretch you out."
" 's fine," you whimper, feeling him slip another finger in, fucking into you slowly. "it'll fit just fine."
"You sure?" He picks up his pace, long fingers reaching places your own never could. "Don't wanna hurt you."
" 's fine," you moan when he slips a third finger into your cunt, "don't care if it hurts, just wanna feel you."
Theodore pulls out, bringing his fingers to his lips to taste you once more. Moving back up, Theodore grabs at a pillow, placing it beneath your lower back to elevate your cunt. Slowly, he guides his dick into you, gasping at the feeling of his thick head stretching you open.
"Fuck—" Theodore pushes in deeper, pausing when he feels you clenching impossibly tight around him "—your cunt's sucking me in so good."
The burn is delicious, his cock tearing you open from within, stretching you out to take him into you. "So full," you whine, pressing your head into your sheets as he slides in even deeper into you. " 's too much."
"I know, baby," he murmurs, rubbing slow circles onto your thighs, "just a little more, I know you can take it."
You whine pathetically, feeling him fuck the last few inches snuggly into you. "Ah!" He hasn't even moved and you're already breathless, feeling him in your stomach. “Fuck me, Theo. Fuck me nice and full.”
“You want me to fuck your small cunt nice and full?” Theodore pulls out entirely, leaving just his tip in your cunt before roughly thrusting back in, hands on your hips as he pounds into you. "I’ll fuck it nice and full for you, maybe even put a baby in you."
And when your pussy grips his cock at his words, Theodore drives into you even harder. “Put a baby in me, please.”
“Yeah? You want that?” He watches as your tits bounce with each harsh thrust. “You want to carry my baby? Have your pretty tits grow bigger? You want that?”
“Yes,” you cry out, eyes screwed shut, the pain of his cock splitting you open mixing with pleasure. “Yes, ah— want it.”
“Fuck—” Having just about enough, Theodore pushes your mini skirt up your stomach giving him a full view of how well he's fucking his thick cock into you. The mound of your pussy bulging as it makes room for his dick to spear into your cunt.
"See that baby? See how good your cunt’s at taking my cock?" He asks, his hand grabbing yours to press down below your navel. "See how good I'm fucking you?"
You can only moan, crying out his name when he presses your hand down onto the bulge in your stomach, pushing his own dick out of your pussy. "Feel how deep my cock is inside of you?"
“Gonna be so easy for me to breed you,” he murmurs, wrapping your legs around his waist to fuck himself even deeper into you. “Want me to breed you, baby? Hmm?”
You nod desperately, too cock drunk to speak. Jolting when Theodore presses a harsh finger to your clit, circling it as he fucked deeper into you. "Theo, I'm gonna—"
"I know baby," he says, his cock getting impossibly harder inside of you. He presses another finger onto your clit, rubbing tight circles as you squirm underneath him. "Fuck— you're pussy's so good. Need you to come on my cock."
Theodore leans down to kiss you, pushing his length even deeper into you. You moan into his mouth, fucking you through your orgasm, your legs trembling as you try to squeeze him in.
Theodore fucks your cum back into you harder and faster, chasing his own high. One quick glance at his cock coated with your cum, followed by the bulge in your tummy was sends has him rutting into your tight cunt, spilling his warm seed inside you.
Theodore thrusts a few more time just to savor the sight of you spread on his cock before finally pulling out of you. "Fuck Theo," you whined, his cum leaking out of you, making a mess all over your bedsheet. "Were you just never going to tell me your dick is huge?"
Theodore only smiles bashfully, pressing a kiss onto your forehead. "We're still on this?"
"You expect me to not be on this?" You say with a slight pout, Theodore only half paying attention to you as he grabbed a random shirt from the floor to wipe at you thighs. "It's almost like you don't even think of me as you best friend."
"Pretty sure best friends don't go around telling each other about how big their dick is, baby," he replies.
"Blaise can know about your dick size but I can't?" You murmur. "Talk about double standards."
Theodore pauses his movements, hand hovering over your spent pussy. "That fucker."
"Hmm?" You're curious now, confused as to why he was suddenly cursing out your friend. Never having been one to use curse words unless —well, unless he's fucking you.
"He told me that you liked guys who begged," he says with a slight front, going back to cleaning you up nonetheless.
"Is that why you begged to fuck me?"
"No, that was all me," he answers truthfully, ears tinging red in embarrassment,"just wanted to fuck you."
"And they say romance is dead," you say playfully before your eye zeroes into what's in Theodore's hand. "What about the whole breeding thing? And ‘s that my shirt?"
Theodore, freezes with his hands between your thighs, feeling you stare him down as he did so. Slowly, he unravels the shirt he'd use to wipe you clean only to realize that yes, that is your shirt.
"You ripped up my panties, messed up my skirt, tried to put a baby in me, and used my shirt to wipe up your cum," you say, frowning, "I'm never having sex with you again."
Theodore's quick to apologize, peppering your face with kisses, mumbling sorry over and over again. "I'll sneak you out of Oxford street, take my black card with you, how's that sound?"
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— from bee: this is my first time writing smut be nice to me 😡
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sttoru · 5 months
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your boyfriend sleeps on the couch after an argument you both had earlier that day. after calming your nerves and taking time for yourself, you realise that you might have been a bit too harsh on him.
☀︎|tags. older bf!gojo satoru x female reader. fluff / angst / hurt + comfort. age gap (reader early 20’s & satoru early 30’s). nicknames used; ‘(little) baby’. he’s honestly just the perfect combination of gentle and teasing. subtle mentions of size difference.
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satoru shifts on the couch whilst letting out an inaudible yawn. he was tired after an entire day at work and finally had the chance to settle down in the comfort of his apartment.
though, he couldn’t really relax just yet. the reason why being the undeniable tension hanging in the air. he was in fact home, but it didn’t feel like it. not when you were missing.
you had holed yourself up in the master bedroom after an earlier argument the two of you had. it wasn’t a big fight — just a little squabble between lovers. satoru didn’t rush after you when you had decided to walk away midst argument. you clearly weren’t in the right headspace to properly articulate nor communicate your feelings.
he figured that you just needed some time alone and thus decided to leave you be. he didn’t want to risk losing you by annoying you any further.
satoru scrolls on his phone out of boredom. the light radiating off the screen starts to bother his already sensitive eyes. with a sigh, he shuts off the device and puts it down on the coffee table.
it was dead silent in the apartment that was usually filled with your lively chatter. the sorcerer wants nothing more than to cuddle up with you under the covers and fall asleep. but, you needed space and he wasn’t going to disturb you.
he drapes an arm over his eyes and pulls the thin blanket over his chest. his breaths were steady and his thoughts were surprisingly calm. satoru almost drifts off to sleep, however his body lightly jolts awake once he hears the creaking of a door.
careful footsteps echo throughout the hallway and stop right at the doorstep of the living room.
satoru moves his arm to the side so his vision wouldn’t be obstructed. his eyes land on the figure standing at the doorframe — one he could recognise instantly.
it was you, standing there with your head held low and your fingers curled around the hem of your nightgown. you didn’t take another step forwards and just lingered in your spot for a few seconds without saying anything.
“hey, baby.” satoru breaks the silence. his voice was as soft as it could be, not an ounce of annoyance or frustration in it. even if he had all the reason to be upset according to you.
you remember just how childish you acted earlier; you had lost all rationality, shouted at your boyfriend out of frustration and ran off mid sentence instead of properly addressing the issue at hand. the way you handled that situation was wrong and immature.
in contrast to your immature behaviour, satoru had stayed calm and collected throughout the entirety of your argument. he hadn’t raised his voice at you even once nor did he blame you for anything. you felt bad for acting like a bratty kid who didn’t get her way.
you eventually move towards the couch, still not making eye contact with your boyfriend. he sits up and simply watches you with a raised eyebrow—curious as to what you were about to do.
you knew you had to apologise for your behaviour, but what you needed first was his validation. you wordlessly climb onto the couch and under the blanket satoru was using.
your arms wrap around his torso and you hug him tightly to your body, face buried in his shirt to cover your embarrassed and remorseful expression.
satoru’s eyes widen a bit at the sudden show of affection, though he wasn’t complaining. he reciprocates the gesture and nuzzles his cheek against the top of your head.
“my little baby.” he chuckles, hands rubbing your back in attempt to reassure you that everything was and will be fine, “i’m happy you decided to come back to me — thank you.”
again. that tender tone satoru uses only with you and for you. the guilt from earlier hits you like a truck and your eyes well up with tears before you could stop the process.
“sorry,” your voice cracks once you finally muster out an apology. the warmth engulfing your cold body was enough to make you sob in his comforting embrace. satoru sighs and closes his eyes. he rests his chin on top of your head whilst holding you like his life depended on it.
no words were exchanged between you two for a good minute. satoru silently encourages you to cry it out and so you do. after calming down, you sniffle and pull your head away from his chest. your eyes were watery and a bit red.
the pad of his thumb sweeps the stray tears away from your cheeks, his touch precise and careful. he smiles softly at the sight of his teary-eyed girlfriend. you were so adorable and precious to him. even when you looked like a mess — a pretty mess.
“i just..” you start off, small hiccups interrupting your sentence, “i wanted to apologise for acting so childish. i shouldn’t have said nor did any of those hurtful things. i apologise for that as well.”
your lover nods along to your words. he hums in delight and kisses your forehead, his lips lingering there for longer than intended, “don’t worry, baby. i understand. thank you for apologising, though.”
you mutter a small ‘of course’ in-between sniffles. that was all the reassurance you had needed to hear from your boyfriend. though, you still felt bad and the guilt of your immature actions seemed to linger in the back of your mind.
you lay your head back on satoru’s chest and listen to his heartbeat — hoping that the constant sound would drown out any other thoughts. your lover lays on his back and pulls you down on top of him. his hands rub your sides, slender fingers toying with the silky material of your nightgown.
“i’m sorry for being immature sometimes. i’m sure it must be troubling to deal with.” you whisper as you enjoy the feeling of being back in satoru’s arms.
he grins and shakes his head in response. he loves every side of yours — even your immature one. if he didn’t, he wouldn’t be here right now. he truly loves all of you.
the older man places another soft kiss on top of your head and closes his eyes afterwards, “heh, i’d be lying if i said that you trying to act all tough earlier wasn’t cute.”
satoru snickers at the memory. he remembers how you pointed that little finger of yours in front of his face and how you tried to subtly stand on the tips of your toes so you could look him in the eyes properly. your attempts at looking intimidating were quite endearing.
it’s not like he was invalidating your feelings with that comment — he was genuinely trying to lighten your mood. and it wasn’t like it didn’t work.
“whatever.” you huff, playfully swatting his biceps and gaining an over exaggerated ‘ow!’ in response. you’re glad that things have gone back to normal between you two. if the situation had continued for any longer, you’d have lost your mind.
you aren’t the only one who is extremely relieved. satoru is beaming with joy because he gets to hold and talk to you again. that small period of silence between the both of you felt like an eternity to him.
no matter how many times you have those little arguments, satoru will still love you all the same.
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ao3-crack · 1 year
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(x)
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ervotica · 5 months
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please don’t go, i love you so
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pairing: young!coriolanus snow x reader
warnings: a lil toxic!coriolanus, he’s rough with r, possessive talk, quite tame in this but imma tamp it up soon, a bit of making out and being lovey
note: i do not careee about who likes this character or who doesn’t okay i am writing about him because he is literally one of the hottest men i’ve ever seen, kay? i’m not here for moral dilemmas thank u, enjoy (yes i will follow up w smut and my young!coriolanus snow reqs are OPEN!) please please remember to comment and rb, it helps me so much!
hunger games masterlist
Coriolanus is possessive.
It sickens him to his very core, sends nausea rolling like a wave through his chest; he’s not a child. Yet, the mere sight - thought - of you engaging with any other man, even innocently, is enough to have him seeing red: white-knuckled, muscles drawn taut like a bowstring, ready to eliminate any and all threat standing between him and his girl.
It's the way those boys look at you. As if you're a piece of meat, a toy to play with that they're just begging, aching to sink their teeth into, to leave a permanent mark on. The boys in this district are barbaric- that's what Coryo thinks anyway. It's disgusting, the things that he knows they think about you.
It's been a long day in District Twelve. Coriolanus' grey jumpsuit rubs and itches and his skin crawls with an uneasiness settled at the pit of his stomach. It's a warm day, his skin sticky as he peels the top half of the jumpsuit from his slender arms and ties it neatly around his waist. The grass by the lake is damp with the leftover dew from the morning.
He catches sight of you amongst the trees, weaving and bobbing through the undergrowth as you do, your lithe fingers brushing against leaves. Your head dips and then raises as his tall figure creeps into your peripheral vision. A smile graces your features, real and earnest with all your teeth.
There’s a slight waver in your countenance when you catch Coriolanus’ own expression; his brows are knit, pushing his forehead into a crease, lips pushed together tersely.
You walk straight into his arms, balancing yourself on one leg and pushing your shoulder underneath his armpit. You needle your way in, your forehead rested against his chin, so close you can feel his breath against your face.
“Hi, gorgeous,” you murmur. You reach up to push out the ridge in his brow and your thumb traces the bridge of his nose in a way that couldn’t be perceived as anything other than unbridled affection. “Something wrong?”
His slender fingers settle against your waist. You shiver at the contact when he spins and pushes you back into a tree. The bark digs into your back as you shuffle to meet his eyes— his eyes that have suddenly clouded with something dark and possessive.
“What is it?” you ask again; your voice is becoming more strained the longer he stays quiet, your own hands snaking up his arms like vines and squeezing.
He shakes his head and drops his face to look at you properly.
“Nothing. I have you.”
“Okay.” You click your tongue, tilting your head at him. His face gravitates towards yours, breath hot and mixing with your own. “You gonna kiss me or what, handsome?”
He doesn’t need any encouragement, surging forward to catch your lips between his own; his hands are rough, kneading the soft flesh of your hip. His other makes its way up to your jaw, fingertips pressing so hard you’re sure he’s branding you. You’ve never been kissed like this, with such fervour and passion and need. You gasp into his mouth and your arm wraps around his neck to pull him further into you.
“Coryo,” you pant.
“Shh,” he forces out, his fingers suddenly an iron grip around your neck; the hollow of your throat is bared to him and bobs under his cruel touch.
“Coriolanus, that hurts,” you say, strangled. His eyes are alight with a fire, a blazing inferno roaring in his head as he squeezes your throat and laughs.
You wheeze, clutching at his wrist in an attempt to loosen his grip. He obliges you, running a thumb over the indents he’s left in your soft skin to smooth them away.
“You know I’d never hurt you, right?” he asks. His head drops to the juncture of your neck, arms hooking loosely around your middle as he relaxes into you. “I just wanted to feel you. To know you’re mine.”
The incident is forgotten as soon as it ends. He has a charm in that sort of way; you don’t see his faults even when he shows them to you clear as day. You’ll never see what’s right in front of you even if he wants you to.
“Of course I’m yours, Coryo. Why wouldn’t I be?”
“The way they all look at you here…” He falters. “Like they all want you. Like they want to take you away from me. You’re mine- they have to understand that.”
“No one could take me away from you,” you giggle, your temple resting against the tip of his shoulder so you can duck your head to meet his eyes. “I know where I belong. And that’s right here with you.”
“Good.” He mouths at your neck like a man starved, arms coming right up until they’re hooked just underneath your own. He pulls away heaving for breath.
“Wanna show me just where you belong?”
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wanduhhh · 2 years
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Ease My Mind (18+)
Chap 3: I’m Not Wearing My Usual Lipstick 💄✨
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Waking up in Wanda’s home was certainly not how you imagined your weekend to go. The second you registered her scent on the pillows; your stomach was turning. Mind feeling with thoughts of how she felt above you. Breathy and so soft. How were you expected to watch her hands take down notes on your mental state when you now knew what they felt like dragging through your hair.
The thought was enough to immediately feel heat spreading through you. But you couldn’t afford the luxury of laying there basking in all things Wanda when you knew everything would go to shit as soon as you pulled back the duvet.
You knew the smart thing to do was to sneak out, close the door so quietly you wouldn’t even hear the click. Clearly last night had been a monumental shift between the two of you and you couldn’t help but hope Wanda was sleeping peacefully and not replaying them just as you were.
However the world was not so kind, and a wall away the redhead was indeed wide awake and thinking about nothing except your lips on hers. Thoughts of how she had jeopardised everything she had worked for were drowned out by remembering how wet you were as you slid down onto her thigh. As she lay awake most of the night, she had scratched the spot raw. Pinching at the skin as if it was the only thing stopping her from marching next door and hearing more of your pretty whines.
As much as every fibre of her being craved you, she knew the best way forward was to commit to professionalism. She silently reprimanded herself for letting it go further than it ever should have. Vowing then that everything she did from that moment on would be with your best interests at heart, as her patient.
Your tiptoeing was working out well for you, somehow you had gracefully avoided every creak on the stairs. Never had you felt so light on your feet.
This was all meaningless however, as you took in your surroundings and saw Wanda perched at the kitchen table with a coffee in her hands. She raised one eyebrow at your state, head tilting just slightly as she took you in.
“I was just gonna uh- leave you to it” your need to state the obvious was painful in that moment.
“I can see that” her light smile soothed the tension, if just for a moment.
“So we should talk, can you come sit. Would you like a coffee?” You didn’t even like coffee but you said yes if just for something to do with your hands. You couldn’t trust yourself to sit so close to the woman without inching your hands closer to her. The steaming cup was a welcomed distraction.
“I want to apologise for last night y/n, it was extremely inappropriate. I should never have overstepped like that. I’m not sure how to move forward now, and I’m not certain that me continuing on as your therapist would be a good idea. I have the name of a colleague here, that I think you would get on well with”.
You had zoned out as Wanda began describing this other therapist, bewildered at the thought of her pawning you off. When she droned on about how you would have shared interests and how she thought it could really work, you decided enough was enough.
“Wanda stop please. I can’t listen to you trying to make these decisions for me. You keep saying it’s what’s best for me, but have you considered you are what’s best for me”. Wanda’s face told you she was about to argue back, but you charged on before she could.
“I haven’t made this much progress with anyone else I’ve ever known, I feel comfortable talking to you about things I’ve never spoken about with anyone Wanda.” During your speech Wanda had taken her lip between her teeth, gnawing on it anxiously. You wanted nothing more than to soothe over it with your tongue, but that’s what had started this mess to begin with.
“Y/n I am happy about the progress to, really I am. But I morally can’t continue seeing you in a professional setting after uh- after everything”. Suddenly her eyes refused to meet yours.
“We didn’t fuck, Wanda” your blunt wording had her coughing up a mouthful of coffee back into her mug, and you felt a little smug at catching her so off guard. “Jesus y/n, I know that. But we got close enough”. She wiped spluttered coffee off of her cheeks as she spoke; face bright red. “Oh Maximoff, so you were letting me into your pants after all”.
She did not chuckle and you breathed out a quiet “sorry” when you realised it was a badly timed joke.
“We can discuss this at our last session next week, I have a few things I’d like to tie up and then we can talk about introducing you to my colleague”. Her stern tone left no wiggle room and you found yourself just nodding along.
When you stood to leave 5 minutes later, her gaze remained fixed on you. Scanning from your head to your toes. You couldn’t pinpoint why until she spoke.
“Planning on leaving with no pants huh?” And it was then that you realised you were still in Wanda’s sweater and nothing else.
“Oh uh, could I maybe get some sweats” Wanda couldn’t help but feel endeared by your anxious tone. Running up and back down the stairs clutching sweats for you, pretending she felt nothing about your bare thighs being covered.
When she dropped you off at your mom’s, she felt an emptiness envelop her as she watched the door swing closed. But she knew it would be for the best. The rest of Wanda’s weekend was spent gearing up to see you again on Tuesday. And despite knowing it had to be strictly professional, Wanda slept in the guest room each night.
The only word you could think to describe Wanda’s office on Tuesday was; clinical. All friendly manners had gone out the window and it was blatantly obvious that the redhead was committing completely to professionalism. The couch even seemed further away from Wanda’s own chair, but you thought that was maybe just your mind playing tricks on you.
When she had offered you a glass of water and you politely declined with a “no thank you Wanda”, she quickly corrected you that it was “Dr. Maximoff during office hours”. You felt you were retreating into yourself a bit each time she wouldn’t meet your eyes.
No matter how suffocating the tension felt, you knew that Wanda would not let the sessions continue if she thought there was no moving past what had happened. You tried your best to act as normal as possible, but lying to a therapist had truly never been a great idea.
After a gruelling 40 minutes, your session had ended. And Wanda informed you that it would be your last one with her as your therapist. Any reasoning you tried was swiftly shot down; the woman would not budge.
Instead of a weekly session with your favourite redhead, you were introduced to her animated counterpart- Miss Agatha Harkness. Introduced to you with a firm grip, slightly over enthusiastic smile and the option to be on first name basis.
From the beginning, your sessions with Agatha were different. The woman was Wanda’s opposite, and despite the differences you could see yourself warming to her almost immediately. Despite her own attractiveness; your mind wasn’t clouded. You could talk freely without focusing on what lipstick she has decided to wear that day.
The main difference now was that you spent most of your time talking about Wanda. Nameless of course, despite how many times Agatha encouraged you to speak her name. Agatha deserved a medal for how many hours she had to spend listening to you drone on and on about this “mysterious redhead”
Even when she pushed for you to open up to her about other things, it always managed to loop back to your infatuation with Wanda. You missing her was personified in the way you couldn’t stop talking about her, thinking about her. You hadn’t seen her for weeks and you couldn’t sleep for wondering if she had gotten new glasses after sitting on them on one of your last few sessions.
That’s why, when you passed by her in the office building you almost choked on air.
“Wan- uh. Dr Maximoff hi” you stuttered our to her, eyes wide and breaths heavy. “How have you been?”. Despite your own flustered state, Wanda was just as caught off guard. As if you had bumped into each other in the middle of the ocean and now outside her own office door.
“Uh hi y/n, you look great. I mean- healthy. You look uh. Yeah” you couldn’t help but smirk a little at turning the ever so composed therapist a little red. “I’ve missed you Wanda” the words slipped out before you even had a chance to stop them.
“Uh no y/n- god. Come here” you were pressed against the other side of her door before you could catch your breath. Wanda standing so close to you that you could feel her breath hit your lips. Her arms on either side of your head as she whispered harshly.
“You can’t do this here y/n. This is my job and it’s so unprofes- mm”. Of all the ways you had shut her up, pressing your lips against hers was by far your favourite. You didn’t give her a chance to get her bearings, pressing your tongue inside her mouth and pulling at her lip with your teeth.
You slot your thigh in between her own, pulling desperately at her hips to rub against you. “Fuck baby hmm, no no not here”. Wanda wined against your lips; gasping as your lips trailer down the column of her throat.
Desperation was taking control of your body and you were seconds away from bending Wanda over her couch and fucking her til the whole building heard. But ever the rational woman, she gently pried you from her. Running her hand through tousled red hair and swiping at smudged red lipstick.
“Let me take you home Wanda, please stop denying what we both want”, the intense gaze you fixed her mixed with your panting body still propped up against the door had her weak at the knees. For once she was ready to throw caution to the wind. Giving you one determined nod and giggling as you put a finger to her lips and slowly opened the door.
You crept through like giggling teenagers, stealing quick teasing touches at every chance. So caught up in each other you were mentally far away from the therapy office. Right up until you were stopped by a human road block.
“Ah Wanda honey, y/n there you are, you ran out without this. But I see you were rather busy” dangling your phone in front of your face like she had found a diamond. Wanda’s face was a picture of guilt, and you couldn’t bring yourself to meet Agatha’s eyes.
“How about the three of us girls go have a nice chat in my office hmm?”
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satoruxx · 6 months
Note
thinking about since canonically Geto is more popular with girls than Gojo he’s gotten used to them looking past him to get to Geto but what if Gojo and Geto are out for drinks with the other teachers one night and he gets approached by the reader but he thinks she’s just coming over to ask him for Geto’s number and so he prepares his ‘responsible best friend’ act and then SHE ASKS ABOUT HIM INSTEAD, ALL BLUSHY AND STUFF BECAUSE HE LOOKED LIKE HE WAS GONNA BRUSH HER OFF
AHH I LOVE HIM SM 😔😔😔
pairing: gojo satoru x reader | 1k words summary: fluff, pining, reader is a simp but same, satoru is a good wingman but he needs attention too, au ig bc suguru's alive LMAO, idiots in love? rheya's note: oh my god shut up this is so cute and YOU'RE ABSOLUTELY RIGHT??? i can just imagine that he's gotten so used to judging whether or not the person is even worth suguru's attention before deciding to pass on his info...and after a while his brain just defaults to thinking that everyone wants suguru but he FORGETS that there are gojo girlies out there (me asf) !! thanks for the ask nonnie babes i love this idea so so much <33
OK SO
it's obvious that there are quite a few women at the bar eyeing the group. young, attractive teachers spending an evening trying to relax and take their minds off of the stress of jujutsu work. nanami is in deep conversation with shoko about something while ijichi quietly listens. further down the table utahime is quietly sipping her drink while mei mei orders another. shoko makes a comment and suguru bursts into unabashed laughter.
the flush of alcohol dusts over each of their cheeks, but satoru remans the only one who has barely touched his glass, the sting of the bitterness a little too harsh for him to enjoy. he opts for instead letting his eyes roam over the faces in the crowd, taking little notice of all the eyes and smiles sent in their direction.
well until he notices you anyway.
you're already looking in his direction curiously, face illuminated by the dim lighting of the bar as your friends giggle around you. when his eyes lock with yours, you immediately tear your gaze away, trying to play it off by immediately delving into conversation, though satoru can tell that there's a flush crawling up your neck now.
he doesn't look away though, too caught up in the crinkle of your eyes and the smile lines that grace your face as you laugh at something. a minute later you're looking back in their direction, and when you catch him staring, you turn away yet again.
satoru glances to his side, knowing that you're probably watching suguru take a sip of his drink and most likely falling for his charming smile.
typical and so predictable.
some time passes like this. you'll look, and turn away, and satoru will watch you do it over and over again. it isn't until a while later that satoru catches your friends pushing your shoulders and giggling, and he knows that they're urging you to come up and ask about suguru. you're shaking your head, the nervousness clear as day as your brows pinch. but eventually you succumb to peer pressure and stand up from your table, taking anxious strides towards him.
and usually, satoru will make a face or turn his back or do something to look as unapproachable as possible. because almost every person who comes up asking for suguru's contact info has been obnoxious as hell.
but you're quite pretty and you look sweet enough, and he doesn't think it'd be right to deter you.
suguru would probably like you too.
so satoru decides to let you try at least, and if you seem to be as nice as you look maybe he'd bridge the gap between you and his best friend.
you make your way up to him, and as soon as he finally gets a good look at you he's thinking you're a lot prettier up close.
dammit.
"hi," you say, face hot as you try your best to maintain steady eye contact with him. you look so nervous, fidgeting with the fabric of your clothes as you attempt to strike up conversation, and he doesn't have it in him to watch you struggle.
"yeah i can give you his number," he says, voice clipped as he tries to hide the disappointment in it. you watch him grab a napkin and begin scribbling something down, confusion clear as he hands you the digits.
"um…?" you look at the napkin and then at him. "sorry, whose number is this?"
satoru balks, lips parting as he mirrors your confusion. "uh…suguru's? the guy behind me?"
realization dawns on your face and you shift your weight from foot to foot.
"oh actually," you suck your teeth nervously, trying to hide behind an awkward little smile. "i came to talk to you."
satoru can only blink, cerulean eyes widening behind his glasses as he stares at you in surprise.
you take his silence as a bad sign, shoulders dropping and embarrassment settling in your frown as you look anywhere but his face. "s-sorry if that's weird. i don't wanna make you uncomfortable or anything so-"
he's grinning before he can stop himself, heart dangerously swelling with affection as he motions toward the empty stool next to him. "not weird at all."
the pleasant surprise on your face makes him bite back a chuckle, and you take the seat. "huh...i wasn't expecting you to be okay with it."
satoru raises a brow curiously, tilting his head. "why not?"
you shrug with a careless grin. "i had a feeling you were gonna brush me off from the moment i first looked over."
satoru winces, and he can practically feel suguru's knowing smirk on his back. he chooses to ignore that for now, eyes trailing over the mirth in your expression, and he can only smile helplessly. "no way in hell."
your laugh comes instantly, sweet and bright, and you take it as a sign to continue talking. satoru listens on, sipping his drink to hide his giddy smile and ignoring the sting of bitterness once again.
honestly, with the amount of sweetness he's just found, satoru would tolerate as much bitterness as he needed to.
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maximum-marvel · 3 months
Text
i just wanted to say thank you to every fanfic writer out there.
thank you for writing what others haven't, what others can't, what others won't.
thank you for writing what can be judged and hated, but writing it all the same.
thank you for indulging in something that you love and allowing the rest of us to love it with you.
if you have one kudos or one thousand, one comment or one hundred, one bookmark or fifty, i love each and every one of you for writing them.
thank you.
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bunnys-kisses · 9 days
Text
the jailbird (2)
prisoner!simon 'ghost' riley
part 1 | original text post
cw: (former) prisoner!simon, civilian!reader, romance & fluff, smut, size kink, sane and consensual, roleplay, rough sex, spanking, bondage & gags, tattoo kink, dom!simon, sub!reader
bunny says: love the fic? leave a comment! really love the fic? suggest your own! reblogs are encouraged!
-
living with an ex-convict was interesting. he still woke up at the crack of dawn, and as a result you were up too. he didn't know where anything was in your apartment, he hated that he had to wake you up but he didn't know where the spoons were.
you were happy to help him and spend some extra time together before you went to work. the more you were around him, the more you realized how big he was compared to you.
even his hands were much larger than yours. he loved to wrap you up in his arms and hold you while you were making yourself some breakfast. those strong tattooed arms around your middle as you flipped eggs.
sometimes he'd bury his face in your neck and visibly relaxed. he was still dealing with his fair share of trauma from the previous events of his life. and while it often left him stressed, he found comfort in you.
"you're my anchor, love." he said within the first week of his return to society.
you simply smiled and tried not to blush too hard as you said, "well, si. i'll happily be your anchor, as long as your mine."
"you're anchor, your rock, your foot solider, your lover." he said as he kept his gaze on you. since he had been living with you, you found his expression had softened a little. he could relax here.
"my husband." you reached out for him. he took your hand and kissed the top of it before he held it for a moment then returned it to you.
simon had a long road ahead of him, being on the inside for so long was going to cause some problems. but, he knew even if he had nothing. he had you.
it was almost five months into living together and he managed to get an interview working in small parts manufacturing. while it was tedious, they didn't need to look at his criminal record. which greatly excited him.
when he came home from the interview, he told you that it went well. that they seemed to like his dedication and were impressed when he mentioned his time in the military. he said, "got the whole 'thank you for your service'." as he held you and kissed you deeply.
it felt like your little lives were coming together. but the one thing you hated to admit to yourself. you sort of had a dark side, it wasn't anything too aggressive or 'evil'. you thought that simon was the perfect boyfriend, he'd never hurt a hair on your head.
but the idea of being with a criminal sort of had a sexy ring to it. to be with the bad boy. you almost felt embarrassed to admit it when he'd come home with flowers for you, or when he smiled at you. or when he held your hand when you went out. with you he got to be a person with love.
deep down you wanted to know the depths of your boyfriend. you wanted to know what a man like him, with his skill set, was capable of. you wanted it to burn, ache and hurt.
it took a lot of courage, you communicated with your boyfriend about a little make believe. while hesitant at first, he slowly started to warm up to the idea. you knew he was open to it when he came home from one, actually the first day at his job, with a bundle of bondage rope.
"the blue looks good on you." he remarked as he finished tying you up on the bed. he had your arms behind your back with you on your side and one leg tied to the bed post.
you looked at him, those eyes of yours were so alluring. you tried to move your leg but was stuck to the bed. he smiled down at you and tapped the ball gag in your mouth.
"but it doesn't matter what you want. right?' he asked, "i've searched a long time for you. you're not an easy woman to catch." he got between your legs, and hiked one leg over his shoulder as he started to aggressively lick your cunt. it was already dripping from the act of him tying you up.
there was no escape for you, even if you somehow got out of the bondage. he was almost twice the size of you and could do some damage if he wanted to.
you squirmed and whimpered around the ball gag as he took long, hard licks against your clit. he wanted to make sure his girl was wet enough for his large cock.
"maybe i should breed ya. bring you back to the boys all fat with my brats.' he purred, "i don't think they can throw ya in the can if you're pregnant. but who knows, you got pregnant by a thief." he continued to lick your sweet cunt. he was in heaven.
he really was so much bigger than you. he overpowered you, he could keep you down and fuck you until he had his fill, and there was nothing you could do about it. you were bound and gagged like a good girl.
he kept at it, he even teased your hole with his thick fingers until you were squirming more with your moans getting louder. he slapped your ass and gave you a stern look over your pussy. he gripped your leg over his shoulder. "shut up." he growled, "i don't need ya causin' a scene. i'd hate to go back to prison because you can't keep your trap shut up."
you hole clenched and he chuckled. he patted where he smacked and grabbed at the flesh before he went back to his feast between your legs. it didn't take long before the slick between your thighs got all over his face.
he pulled away and sat up on his knees. he stared down at you with your thigh wrapped around his waist. he was going to fuck you at a weird angle, but it was the only way he could keep his little prize tied up. he wiped is face, "you are the best thing i've caught." he said, "stolen a lotta loose change, but they're nothin' to the sweet taste of your cunt." he got his cock out his sweatpants and started to rub it against your slick pussy. he let out a harsh sigh from the sensation, "they should be keepin' ya behind the vault door." the tip slipped in for a moment and you clenched around it.
you whimpered and tried to pushed yourself down on his cock, but it was hard to do that when you were so tied up, he pushed the hair out of your eyes, your leftover wetness got on your cheek from his movements.
"but, you need to know." he said, "you're mine to do whatever to. your mommy and daddy aren't gonna save ya. you fell in love with a bad man and now you're lettin' him fuck your cunt raw. what's gonna happen at christmas when you're all swollen with my brats. riley boys are lil hell raisers." he went back to rubbing his cock up against your slit, "you'll be mine forever. my little prize. i should've taken ya a long time ago. just snatched ya up off the train. keep ya to myself." his tongue was getting loose from the buzz of pleasure in his brain.
you whimpered around the gag and almost cried out when he slipped his large cock into you easily. you felt it in your guts and his pace was much more brutal than the other times you've made love. that was the difference, you made love before. this was dirty, primal sex between a criminal and his captive.
the sounds of sex filled the air, paired with simon's heavy breathing. his heart was thumping steadily as he pushed his cock as deep as it would go. he loomed over you as he drilled himself into you. you were a comfortably tight fit around his cock.
you dug your nails into your palms from the immense pleasure and yelped when he slapped your ass. you whimpered when he leaned further into you to get closer into your personal space. his pace was brutal and it excited you.
"i'm a bad man." he said lowly, his voice close to your ear, "my worst crime is tainting such a precious angel." he held onto your calf as he bent your hips the closer he got. his voice was hot, "fill ya right up, make sure no other man has a chance to get ya knocked up." his tattooed hand went to your stomach which he gave a small rub, "my girl carryin' my boys."
your eyes almost rolled back from the heat in your body. you were almost drooling around the rubber gag in your mouth. it was dirty, it was filth. if anyone saw the state you were in, they would be shocked!
your head felt full of lust, you felt your lover so close to him. you knew despite the roughness and the harsh words, the entire scenario was safe. you knew you could get out of this if you needed to. but it wasn't getting to be too much, it was just enough.
the wetness between your legs and the flips in your stomach only excited you. to have such a large man be so domineering. it made you feel small in a good way. it was almost like being bound made you feel protected.
that you could lay yourself over to him and he'd cherish you. even if you were his little 'prize' for the evening. the hottest part was the pace at which his cock was battering your womb.
you whimpered against your gag and felt the heat rush through you. you held onto your palms as best as you could with your arms bound. the entire situation left you spinning, there was no wonder that orgasm crept up on you so easily.
with a loud moan around your gag, you climaxed around his cock. the tightness of your cunt mid-orgasm milked his cock till he was seeing stars. he came inside of you, his seed hit against the back of your womb.
the feeling of being able to do so left him a little slack-jawed. but he kept it together, even if his cheeks were flushed. when he finished, he slowly pulled out and started to untie you. his hands were shaky from the after effects of his orgasm.
he took the gag out of your mouth and pulled you in for a kiss when he finished untying you. he fell into bed with you and laid on top of the covers with you. he held you gently and kissed your face. he gave you gentle praise as he kept you in his arms.
when he looked at you, all was right in the world. you held onto him and pressed kisses against his face. after care consisted of tea and a small snack followed by a shower together, where he washed every part of you.
even though you were capable of doing it yourself, you still appreciated how detail orientated he was in the manner of getting you clean. little did you know that biology was working its magic and simon's seed found home in your cervix.
you better hope that the line about the riley boys being hellions was untrue or you'd have your hands full. it didn't help that when simon's hand grazed your stomach as he washed you that you blushed and tucked yourself closer to him.
mama riley did have a ring to it.
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pierregazly · 26 days
Text
but mama, i love him ꨄ oscar piastri smau
oscar piastri x leclerc!reader
the one where oscar's girlfriend has been soft launching their relationship for ages. and he's okay with it, especially if it means he can keep hiding in plain sight from her three overprotective brothers.
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ynleclerc
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tagged charles_leclerc
liked by charles_leclerc, arthur_leclerc, oscarpiastri, and others
ynleclerc omg omg omg... charles leclerc signed my hat? should i add it to the shrine? give them something to sacrifice?
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username any non-f1 fan would automatically assume ynleclerc is a crazy fan page for charles
username or a charles leclerc hate page... all she does it make fun of her brothers here
username she's offering her signed hat for the tifosi to sacrifice for a CL16 win??? that seems like pure love all around
arthur_leclerc i also signed your hat?
ynleclerc i also do not care? will a hat signed by you get me millions if i sell it for sacrificial purposes?
charles_leclerc what's next? my personal belongings?
ynleclerc is that an offer? if so, oui. i will take what i think will make me the most money next time i'm there, merci <3
scuderiaferrari if it gets us a 1-2 finish, sacrifice everything ynleclerc... please 🙏
username being a Ferrari fan is so satisfying when you remember ynleclerc is an automatic inclusion in everything and anything charles does
username the things i would do to have her as a McLaren fan... she's too beautiful for Ferrari 😭
oscarpiastri a piastri hat will get you good money in straya btw
username oscar??
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oscarpiastri
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liked by logansargeant, landonorris, mclaren, and others
oscarpiastri 'stop hitting me with the ball on purpose you jerk' was said more times than it should've been, by someone who really just sucks at tennis. had an awesome week back home, time to get back to it 💪
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logansargeant no wonder you're so worried about getting run over
username the coordinating outfits?? i'm gonna scream, who is she!!!
username what does logan know, tell us your secrets girl logansargeant
username oscar is gonna soft launch this relationship until the end of time. show us her face, you coward!!
ynleclerc did you pay her for all the bruises that tennis ball left?? poor girl
oscarpiastri it's not my fault she's a terrible tennis player, we all know i've offered to pay for a trainer
landonorris so this is why you couldn't come to bali with me 🤨
username lando really said i'm the third wheel??
username to be fair i'd probably pick oscar's girlfriend over lando for a week away too
username girly you don't even know who she is!!! she could be the devil
username i wanna be included in oscar's post week home photo dump :(
ynleclerc has posted a story
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liked by oscarpiastri, logansargeant, pascale.leclerc.355, and others
replies
oscarpiastri you can call me pookie whenever you want if you're gonna post things like this
ynleclerc i'd call you pookie with or without your permission, mon amour
charles_leclerc who is this
charles_leclerc why won't you tell us who you're dating
charles_leclerc we won't hurt him
charles_leclerc answer my texts
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ynleclerc
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liked by oscarpiastri, pascale.leclerc.355, arthur_leclerc, and others
ynleclerc get you a man who can do both, luckiest woman in the world whenever you're around. mon amour 🤍
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username people involved in formula 1 and their obsession with soft launching everything NEEDS to be studied
username at least she posts her boyfriend and he isn't just a small figure in the background of every post (charles this is a direct hate comment)
arthur_leclerc this would have been very lovely if it weren't for the last photo
liked by charles_leclerc and lorenzotl
ynleclerc suppose it's a good thing you could easily ignore it. cheers :)
pascale.leclerc.355 trés belle, ma fille 💗
charles_leclerc maman?
username could you IMAGINE if ynleclerc told pascale but obviously hasn't told her brothers? i can FEEL the outrage
username starting to think this may be a driver, ynleclerc is at every race weekend and ALWAYS makes a post with her mystery man at some point during the week after...
username okay ms sleuth (i think it's lando)
username i'm like 65% sure it's oscar, and 35% positive it's someone that looks a lot like oscar
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ynleclerc
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tagged oscarpiastri
liked by oscarpiastri, logansargeant, landonorris, and others
ynleclerc someone exposed us on twitter, so i had to expose us on instagram 😮‍💨
comments on this post have been limited
oscarpiastri love you <3
oscarpiastri i will love you even when a ferrari has run me over, of course.
arthur_leclerc is this your way of telling me i was right, without texting me back?
charles_leclerc this must be a joke, non?
pascale.leclerc.355 so very excited to finally be able to invite the both of you for dinner. trés belle 🤍
charles_leclerc maman, you knew?
ynleclerc oscar and i will see you for sunday dinner, maman! <3
tresbelleleclercspam
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ynleclerc live feed of oscar running away from charles in the paddock when he said he 'just wanted to talk, mate'
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charles_leclerc i truly just wanted to talk about the race
charles_leclerc i did not have a speech planned, non
arthur_leclerc i did have a speech planned
lorenzotl i just wanted to welcome him to the family, as a good big brother should
oscarpiastri my apple watch warned me of an overactive heart rate 5 times today. why did you do this to me. why couldn't you have three sisters???
ynleclerc so very sorry, in our next life i'll try to make sure you only have to worry about sisters and not three overprotective brothers
oscarpiastri as long as i get to spend every lifetime with you <3
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i actually got a request for something like this ages ago, and finally got around to finishing it. i so hope you all loved it as much as i loved writing it. thank you for all the support!!
i'm not currently taking requests, but if anyone has lil suggestions or prompts please feel free to send them.
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swordsandholly · 14 days
Text
Double Date - Double Down
NSFW | MDNI
Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x Fem!plus size!reader
Word count: 4.9k
Summary: When you get a call in the middle of the afternoon from your friend begging you to fill an empty spot on a double date your initial instinct is a hard no. After all, no one wants to go on a blind double date and be surprised by the fat friend. It doesn’t help that this Simon guy is stupid fucking hot and obviously doesn’t like you - if his lack of talking is anything to go by.
A/N: Just a fun little oneshot I used as a warmup between working on chapters of future multi chapter projects.
“I said *no*.” You snap, angrily folding the washcloth in your hands.
Your friend splutters from the other side of the phone, the desperation in her voice only growing now that she’s on her fourth ask. “*Pleeeaase*! Steph backed out last minute and no one else is free-“
“How do you know I’m free?”
“You just said you were!”
You huff. She’s got you there. When she first called, you admitted you didn’t have anything going on but that was *before* she told you the plan for the night. Before she mentioned that her very, very conventionally hot military boyfriend wanted to do a little double date with his friend and one of hers. Plus, you take a least a little offense to being second choice. Really, last choice, it seems.
“Cass, you can’t just set up a blind date and take your fat friend. That’s not-“
“You’re not fat, love. You’re beautiful.” Her words drip with turned honey. You make a gagging face to yourself in the mirror. “You just need more confidence!”
You sigh loudly, pinching the bridge of your nose. You could try, for the millionth time, to explain to her the nuanced ins and outs of dating as a fat woman. The rules and stats that could rival even the most complex rpg… or you could be petty. It takes less time to be petty. “If I go, you’re paying for my drinks.”
“Johnny’s friend will probably-“
“Yeah, and when he leaves you’re paying for my tab.”
“He won’t-“
“We got a deal?”
She clicks her tongue. “*Fiiiine*.”
At least you can get wasted for free either way. A small consolation. She texts you the time and location, barely leaving you with enough time to shower and turn yourself into something presentable. Not that you really care. It’s going to be shit either way, most likely. Staring yourself down in the mirror, you suppose you could at least try to look somewhat attractive. If you’re about to get rejected (or possibly shouted at, you’ll never forget *that* horrendous interaction) you might as well feel your best.
The pub is small as you push through the front door. Casual. A couple pool tables, some darts, a large bar and few booths with stools on the outer side. You scan the room, searching for Cass’s familiar face.
“Over here!” Cass waves with a wide arc at you, a grin plastered from ear to ear. At least she’s having fun.
You take a long breath, bracing yourself for whatever is about to happen. Cass introduces you to her boyfriend - who is somehow even hotter in person. You can see why she’s so smitten with him. Johnny looks you up and down as he shakes your hand. He doesn’t comment, or make a face, or really react in any particular way, but you can feel a shift. Something in his eyes…
Maybe it’s just your imagination. You’ve always been a little over sensitive.
“Si will be back in a sec. Stepped over tae get a drink.” He flashes a grin.
You hum, quietly folding your hand as Cass pushes a cocktail for you that she preemptively ordered. Criticize her as much as you like, she knows her mixes.
“There he is.” Johnny grins, turning slightly.
You follow his gaze, heart sinking as your eyes settle on the man approaching your table. He’s massive. Tall and wide. Total brick shithouse. His face is mostly covered by a black surgical mask. A few years ago you might have questioned it but at this point you couldn’t care less, especially when his dark eyes meet yours, small flecks of gold honey catching the low bar lights. Barely styled tufts of blonde hair stick up from his head. They look like they might curl if he let it grow a little longer.
All in all, wayyyy out of your league.
He settles into his seat with all the confidence of any military man - back ramrod straight. He extends a large hand. “Simon Riley.”
You murmur your name, somewhat enthralled by the half lidded, almost bored look in his eyes. Now that he’s closer you notice a large scar splitting his left eyebrow and light, newly forming crows feet in the corners of his eyes.
“S-so you’re military, too?” You stutter, eyes trained on his the massive hand holding his glass. It’s nicely vascular, his nails are well groomed but it also looks like he could snap you in half with it.
Not that that’s entirely a bad thing - whatever that may or may not say about you.
He nods. “I’m a Lieutenant.”
“Oh! Officer position. So you’re smart, then?” You try to be charming, to give him a sweet smile and keep your body language open.
“Enough.” He deadpans. It takes a few beats for you to realize he’s not going to say anything else.
“Uh…” You squirm awkwardly under his gaze. It’s intense - his dark eyes nearly black in the low light of the bar. “I do hair.”
Conversation is slow, to say the least. The longest answer he gives you is maybe five words. He only flips up the mask long enough to take a sip of his drink every so often. You start to talk less, opting toward a group conversation in which Johnny takes the lead, which he is obviously very good at. He regales you and Cass with a few stories of his and Simon’s adventures. Some funny, some brave, some worrying. He’s setting the man up to be a god, nearly, but Simon himself just shakes his head and insists Johnny is exaggerating.
You wonder what he sees in Simon. Alternatively, you wonder what *you’re* supposed to see in Simon. Besides his good looks, of course. He’s… bland. Obviously bored if his constant glances toward the exits and rhythmic, occasional tapping on the corner of the table are anything to go by.
“Want tae go dance, lovie?” You overhear Johnny as he leans in toward Cass.
She glances at you, then Simon, then back to you before nodding enthusiastically. “We’ll give you two some time *alone*.”
In any other situation, you’d probably beg her to stay in desperation for a conversation buffer. Here and now, though, you’re grateful. You can finally let this poor guy off the hook. You wait until they’re gone; fully out of earshot before turning to the man in front of you.
“I…uh… look…” You chew your lip, glancing between him and your folded hands on the table. “Sorry… I know I’m probably not what, uh, what you expected… I get it if you want to leave. It’s - you don’t have to stay, or whatever. Don’t have to be polite…”
He cocks an eyebrow, eyes boring through your skull. “Why would I want to leave?”
“I know what I look like. You don’t have to be nice.”
His raised brow turns into a slight frown. “I think you’re quite pretty.”
You scoff - blushing despite yourself. “Again, you don’t have to be nice.”
“Do I seem like the type to just be nice?”
You continue to gnaw at your lip. He’s got you there. Simon definietly doesn’t come off as the type to bow to polite society. “You’ve barely talked to me.”
He stares for a moment. It’s his turn to avert his eyes, swirling around the whiskey in his glass awkwardly. Almost bashfully. “It’s not you. I’m… not great in public… especially in crowds…”
Oh.
*Oh*.
You’ve completely misjudged him, haven’t you? Shit. He’s just a big awkward lug isn’t he?You sigh, rubbing your temple. “Oh God, *I’m* the asshole, aren’t I?”
He chuckles, “I wouldn’t go that far.”
“I’m sorry it’s just…” you scrub a hand over your face. “Most men don’t really want to be surprised with a fat girl on a blind date. Guess I assumed the worst.”
Simon hums. A low vibration that settles into your bones. He gets up, sliding into the booth side of the table beside you - his massive frame pushing into your space. He smells like spices. Cinnamon and pepper. A little hint of leather and tobacco underneath. It’s heady, and some primal part of your mind wishes you could roll around in it like a dog.
“Some men might like a waifish little thing, that’s their business, but personally…” He leans in, a large hand resting on your wide thigh. “Yeah. I like somethin’ I can get a proper handful of.”
“*Oh*.” You squeak, back stiff. Was that what you saw in Johnny’s face before? Approval?
“‘Ere’s a thought - we go back to mine. S’quiet. Can talk more freely. See where the night goes, hm?”
You smile hesitantly, finally looking up to meet his gaze. It’s honest. Kind. Dark pools of sincerity. It’s against your better judgement. Impractical. Out of character. Even so, you allow yourself to surrender with a warmth in your cheeks and a small nod.
“I’ll get an Uber.” He pulls out his phone, tapping away. “Five minutes out.”
“Want to wait outside?” You offer, nodding toward the front entrance. Simon just nods, following you out close behind. Neither of you say much of anything while you wait, but you watch him out of the corner of your eye. He taps on his leg a few times in much the same way as he did on the table.
He dutifully opens the car door for you, letting you slide in before climbing in beside you, long legs slightly cramped in the small sedan.
“You don’t live on base?” You ask as the Uber drives away from the infamous military housing. You’d been there once or twice - a while ago when you were younger and messier.
“S’too loud.” He shrugs. “Too crowded.”
“Well, at least you’re consistent.” You smile.
Simon hums, resting his hand on your thigh once again. It’s casual, not too high up or too much pressure. Not presumptuous.
“How’d Johnny get you out there in the first place? If you’re so *averse*.” You tilt your head.
He shrugs, “Was supposed to be another Sergeant we work with but I guess he cancelled. No one else was free.”
“Ah, so we’re both last choices, then.”
“Yeah?”
“Made Cass promise me free drinks if I came.”
“Smart girl.” He chuckles, holding out a hand to help you up out of the car upon your arrival. His hand is warm when you take it, and a small part of you feels disappointed when he lets go.
The building is small. Old. All red brick with a thirty year old intercom and an elevator that you’re pretty sure hasn’t been inspected since the place was built. About halfway down the hall, you start to second guess yourself. You don’t know a thing about this guy - you don’t know what’s going to happen as soon as you get on the other side of his door. His weird, bright red door. Wait - why is this whole floor covered in red doors?
“Alright?” He grunts, back turned to you as he wrestles with the lock.
“Uh - why is your floor color themed?”
Simon laughs, wide shoulders shaking with the movement. It’s a low sound, something that vibrates in his chest. Makes you want to press your ear to it, see how it feels. If it will reverberate into your bones as well. “The old lady that owns the building is a bit… unique. Likes to talk about colors and karma and destiny stuff.”
“Ah.” You nod, as if that makes any sense at all. “So you’re red?”
“Apparently.”
His apartment is actually quite homey, as you step into it. From a stiff military man like him you expected something akin to an ikea floor model. Instead it’s furnished with a well worn, green couch. A large TV with an extremely up-to date surround sound system and an entertainment center filled to the brim with CDs sits against the wall. A few movie posters fill the walls. All horror classics - you count three of the scream movies. The first two final destination. There are condensation rings on the coffee table.
Behind you, you hear the door lock and unlock three times, but you don’t pay it much mind.
“Want a drink?” Simon asks, already popping open a decanter full of something gold on a small drink cart beside the kitchen island.
“Sure.” The agreement is automatic - blurted out before you can second guess taking a drink from a total stranger.
You watch a little too closely as he takes off his light jacket, exposing his strong arms and a half sleeve tattoo. It’s a bit tacky, all skulls and military symbols. The black ink has been sun worn over time. The motif of a young getting his first tattoo after enlisting. He settles down on the couch with the decanter and two glasses, patting the spot beside him. You plop down. It’s pretty comfortable, honestly.
His fingers loop into the mask’s straps. You find yourself watching with wide eyes and bated breath as he removes it. His nose is crooked - broken more than a couple times, you think. There’s a scar running from his nose to upper lip that could only come from a cleft palette. It’s charming, in a way. When he turns toward you, you notice a patch on the side of his face that looks like a rather large burn all the way down to his sharp jaw. The roughness of him works, somehow. The scars and tattoos and choppy hair all coming together to create the visage of a life hard lived.
“You’re really pretty…” the words slip from your tongue before you can stop them.
Simon splutters out a laugh, the slightest hint of color appearing across his cheeks. “Didn’t take you for a flatterer.”
“I’m not.” You huff before nodding toward the posters. “Horror fan?”
He hums, passing you a glass. “Are you a fan? Of horror, I mean.”
“Found footage!” You grin a little too excited. “It’s the best genre.”
“Terrible taste.” He scoffs.
“Wrong! Found footage can be anything you want it to be - slasher, thriller, mystery, mocumentary. Anything.”
“Which makes them messy.” He argues. “Anyone can make one.”
“Yeah! Theres so many hidden gems out there.”
“Whatever you say.”
“Oh, I’ll put you on them. We just need to get you a good one.”
“Askin’ me on a second date already, love?”
“Oh, fuck off.” You shove at his shoulder. He was right, it is so much easier to talk freely out of the bar. Away from everyone and everything. His posture is far more relaxed, laid back into the couch with his hips canted forward rather than stiff as a board.
“We could watch one now?” He offers. If you were more sober, you might have heard the twinge of pleading in his voice. As it stands you’ve already drained the glass he gave you and are perfectly buzzed enough to be ignorant to the subtler parts of communication.
How convenient.
“Okay.” You whisper.
After a bit of debating back and forth you settle on Hell House. After all, it’s been your tried and true method for getting anyone and everyone into the genre. You don’t notice it, at first, but you slowly begin to scoot closer to him as you fold your knees up on the couch. Eventually, tucking yourself under his arm sling across the back cushions. Between him and the drinks - which you’re pretty sure is a rather fancy bourbon - you feel what could only be described as snuggly. Limbs loose and pliant, smile easy and words flowing as you cheer and jeer at the characters together.
At some point, Simon’s dark eyes meet between yours. You lean in, so does he. Inch by inch until your lips meet. It’s tentative, at first. Testing the waters. His lips are soft and move expertly against yours. You part for him has his tongue darts across your lower lip.
It’s easier than it usually is for you. Easy to let him pull you over his lap. To rest your hands on his broad shoulders as you take each other in. Normally, you’re not a person for one night stands. A commitment kind of gal. You can’t exactly say no, though, when you have a beautiful man’s hands traveling over your body like it’s the only thing in the world worth paying attention to right now.
He breaks the kiss just long enough to grunt, “Bedroom?”
“*Yes*.” You gasp between kisses.
Suddenly those large hands grasp under your ass as you’re hauled up. You grapple to hold onto the back of his neck, keeping your weight forward.
“Simon!”
“Yes, love?” He asks as if he didn’t just life you like a sack of potatoes.
“A-aren't I heavy?” You question as he makes his way through the apartment, peppering kisses over your neck and jaw.
“No.” He replies bluntly. Like what you asked was stupid.
You’re placed on a bed with all the gentleness of a rare china plate- one hand cradling your upper back and the other tucked under your thighs. There isn’t any time to take in the room before Simon is kissing you again but you do count approximately five pillows and zero navy sheets.
That shouldn’t be as hot as it is.
Simon leans in close, nose ever so slightly bumping yours. “Before we keep going, I want to establish a rule. Red light means stop. At any time, for any reason.”
You can’t help but smile. “Okay.”
“Say it back, doll.”
“Red light means stop.” You reach up and cup his face. So handsome. So warm.
“Good girl.” He murmurs. “Let’s get these off, hm?” Simon pulls your clothes off deftly - dragging those rough palms over your skin as he moves and kneading at the plushness of your hips appreciatively.
You reach up to tug at his shirt. “S’not fair if I’m the only one naked.”
Simon chuckles and hastily sits back to yank the shirt over his head, giving a lovely show in the process. You think this what people mean when they talk about an Adonis. There’s a comfortable soft layer of his strong abdomen. Something you want to sink your teeth into. Your fingers trace each dip and curve of his muscles, the lovely shape of his pectorals, the raised scars littering his body. Floral shapes from bullets along with slashes and smaller jabs. A particularly nasty one runs down his side, coving his ribs. A burn, you think.
“You’re beautiful.” You murmur. Definitely out of your fucking league. You move to sit up, reaching for his waistband.
His hand pushes your shoulder back on the bed. “Let me take care of you tonight, bird.”
Your face warms. Simon kisses your cheek, continuing down to your chest and taking one of your nipples in his mouth. Gently sucking and nipping at it while flicking the other with his hand. A shameful whimper escapes your throat.
Simon leans up to murmur in your ear, “What do you want, sweet girl?”
“Want you to fuck me…” You murmur, embarrassment making you want to close your legs. His solid hips block you.
“Oh, I will, but first I want those beautiful thighs wrapped around my head.” Simon continues to place kisses down your body, over your stomach, stopping right at your panty line and tracing along it with rough fingers. His arms circle your thighs and in one swift motion your hips teeter on the edge of the bed, Simon kneeling between them. His fingers hook in the waistband of your underwear.
“W-wait…” You sit up on your elbows.
He freezes, looking up at you.
“I, uh, I haven’t exactly *landscaped* in a while… wasn’t really planning-“
Simon huffs out a laugh. “I’m a grown man, love. You think a little bush is gonna scare me off?”
All thoughts related to anything within the proximity of embarrassment come to an instant halt as Simon’s lips wrap around your clit- sucking and nipping and lapping like a man starved. Like he’d die without it. A low groan rumbles through his throat.
“F-fuck!” You gasp, whimpers and moans interrupting any chance you may have at putting words together.
“Taste so fucking good, princess.” He mumbles against you. A shaky moan rattles through you as he pushes a thick finger in, working it gently. His other than grips your hip tightly, pinning you in place. The pet-name sends a shiver down your spine - leaving you rolling your hips and clenching on the finger inside you.
“Fuck, Si…” You gasp, tangling your fingers in his hair.
“I can tell your close, baby.” Simon groans. “Cum for me. Come on, be a good girl and cum all over my fucking tongue.”
The bastard knows the power he has in that voice. He *has* to. That baritone gravel sinks in your veins and all you can do is whimper. Panting pathetically the closer you get. His fingers curl up and your back arches harshly as your climax washes over you. Your legs tremble as he works you through it; stopping just shy of pushing you too far.
“Hey!” You gasp indignantly as a jolt shoots up your spine as he settles a final, harsh suck on your clit.
Simon taps your hip, climbing back over you as you scoot up on the bed. He carelessly kicks off his pants as he goes, toeing them off before settling between your legs. Those dark eyes rake over you leisurely - taking in every inch. Every curve and dip and flaw categorically. He sucks in a breath and sighs. “Bloody ‘ell, look at you… so fuckin’ pretty.”
Your face heats and you look away. “Who’s the flatterer now?”
“Not me. Just bein’ honest.” He places a quick kiss to your soft jawline before reaching over to dig through his nightstand drawer. You don’t miss the gold foil of the condom wrapper.
You can’t stop yourself from licking your lips as he pulls off his boxer briefs. Simon is uncut, already ruddy and leaking and just begging for your mouth. Maybe next time, though. He’s already slipped on the condom, carefully hooking one of your legs over his shoulder and the other around his hip. The man has a laser-focus to him, you’ll give him that.
“Still want t’ keep goin’?” He mumbles, eyes locked on his cock as is drags between your folds.
“*Please*.” You whine pathetically. Simon’s chuckle turns into a gasp as he presses in. It’s achingly slow and you roll your hips in demand for more.
Simon lets out a low groan as his hips meet yours. The stretch is perfect - just enough to feel completely full without pushing you too far. As though your bodies were made to slot together just so. Your head falls back, chest heaving as you beg him to move, to fuck you, just *please* for the love of god-
“Needy little thing.” He gives you a sloppy smile before setting a brutal pace. You find yourself clawing at his back, clinging to him as your back arches and the most obscene sounds are systematically torn from your throat. The angle he has your hips placed causes his cock to bully that sensitive spot inside you - dragging over it with every thrust.
Simon leans toward, bracing himself on his forearms and pinning you under him as he fucks into you. “So fuckin’ good f’me. Knew you would be. So soft and sweet and goddamn *pretty*.”
“*Fuck, Simon*.” You gasp, nose bumping against his as your lips intertwine. Breaths and moans intermingle as you both chase that edge. There’s nothing else, in this moment, just you and Simon and the sounds only he has ever managed to pull from you.
Your orgasm hits you like a train. Out of nowhere and all at once, tensing every muscle into a trembling mess as you clamp down around his cock. Simon sinks his teeth into your neck as his own climax takes him, cradling you close and moaning out your name so muddled you almost miss it.
For a few moments, you stay frozen in place trying to catch your breath as you come down. Your limbs feel like jelly when you finally try to move, body limp and pliable. It almost feels like a loss as he pushes off of you, leaving you open and vulnerable to the cool night air while he ties off the condom.
“Be right back.” He murmurs, slowly climbing off you and heading for an attached bathroom off to the left.
You let your eyes slipped closed only to jump and shoot back open as a dap rag drags between your thighs. A little yelp escapes you as the rough material drags across your oversensitive clit. Simon chuckles at you, tossing the rag back somewhere in the bathroom before crawling into the bed beside you. It’s so easy to curl into his chest and let those strong arms encircle you.
“Have fun, love?” Simon murmurs into your hair.
You just hum happily, smiling against his hard chest.
“Good.”
It’s just as easy as the rest of it to fall asleep like that. To seek out the warmth of his body in your satiated haze and press into him, allowing the night and rhythmic beating of his heart to overtake you. You feel four small taps between your shoulder blades just before tipping over the edge into comfortable nothing.
You wake slowly to an empty bed. The light from the window above you streams in - bathing the room in a light golden tone. It’s cozy. The blankets seem to pull you in, keeping you snugly in place. Distantly, you hear the sound of pots and pans clinking.
Shockingly, you’re not hungover. Well, not much at least. There’s a slight twinge in your head and a not unpleasant soreness in your hips. You dig around, finding your clothes strewn across the room haphazardly. Your underwear are nowhere to be found and you eventually give up with a shrug. They weren’t one of your best pairs anyway.
When you come out of the bedroom, you pause. Simon stands in the kitchen, working on something over the stove wearing only a pair of sweatpants. They hang loosely around his hips, showing off the rises and dips of his strong muscles and well defined waist. This scene somehow feels too intimate despite your activities the night before.
“Perfect timing.” Simon turns, placing a plate down on the kitchen island. The omelette before you looks immaculate, all the way down to a light garnish on top.
Your eyes turn to saucers. “You…you made me breakfast?”
“Course.” He nods sharply as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. As if *not* doing so would be some sort of affront. Either you’re still asleep and this is all a dream or you stumbled upon the perfect man through pure happenstance.
He turns the stove off and on and off twice before standing at the counter across from you while you sit on one of the stools at the island. It’s a comfortable silence as you both eat. Simon keeps glancing up at you as if waiting for your disapproval. Boyish, somehow, despite the size and breadth of him.
It’s perfect. The eggs practically melt in your mouth and the goat cheese and vegetables taste fresh. You can’t help but him happily as you eat.
By the time you’re done, you think you might be a little in love.
Maybe you should text Cass and thank her or something. Maybe a gift basket. “Oh. My phone’s dead.”
“Didn’t charge it before y’left last night?” Simon cocks an eyebrow, chewing on his last bite.
You snort. “It was last minute, remember?”
“What if I’d been some sort of psycho? What was your plan?” He grins as he takes your empty plate. If you were a more impulsive woman you may have gone so far as to lick the damn thing.
“Are you a psycho?”
“Not generally, no.”
“Well then, nothing to worry about.” You grin, watching a little too happily as he rinses down the dishes and loads the dishwasher.
Simon just scoffs at you.
You glance at the time above the stove, disappointment settling deep in your chest. “Shit. I should get going.”
“I’ll get you a cab.” Simon offers automatically, reaching for his phone.
You shift side to side, twiddling your thumbs. “Y’know… we never finished the movie…”
Simon cocks and eyebrow. From the pleased smirk on his face you can tell he knows what you’re implying. He still patiently waits for you to say it out loud.
“Would, uh, would you want to exchange numbers? Maybe… meet up… again…?” Your voice is more timid than you’d like. This fear of rejection is new. Being rejected is nothing new for you, so why does it suddenly feel so high stakes with this one guy you barely know?
You don’t miss the way his eyes light up ever so slightly at the question. “I’d love to.”
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