#and they wouldn’t take her to the ER

[zonotrichia-albicollis]

Weirdest thing about my family is they’re always getting upset about the wrong things.

I’ll be like “Hey I’m sorry if I was being rude earlier, I was having a rough day but I shouldn’t take it out on you like that”

and they’ll be like ??? when were you rude?

But sometimes it’s like “well no one talks about medical stuff around you because they’re still mad at you about that one time last year”

Referring to the time that I drove my baby sister to the doctors office without dad’s explicit permission.

(She’s 21)

(I paid for the appointment)

(Literally what is the problem??)

[hanafubukki]

I have power back!! Yay!!! 🥳🥳🥳

We lost it for several hours qhwjskkd

[januaryembrs]

YOU'RE TOO SWEET FOR ME | Spencer Reid x Sunshine!Reader

Request: @avis-writeshq says -

HELLO HELLO jumping on your 2k celebration reqs because 2K OMG SO DESERVED ‼️🫶

may i perhaps request a spencer reid x fem!reader fic please 🥹 maybe him post prison w new reader and she follows him around everywhere because she’s just instantly enamoured to him 🤭

thank you so so much lovely and congrats again !!!

Description: thirteen years in the fbi and ten weeks in prison does a number on Spencer, only when he arrives back in the office he meets the sunshine rookie that seems rather taken with him.

word length: 2.6k (this really ran away from me)

warnings: post-prison Reid, slightest age gap, Spencer dealing with coming home from prison, gun shooting?

authors note: hozier’s new song 'Too Sweet' + post-prison reid is a need, not a want.

He smelled her french vanilla perfume before he even knew she was there. But then again, it was all he could smell the minute she waltzed into the office with a tray of coffee, like someone had stuck a sweet dessert in the oven and baked it on full. 

“Good morning!” She chirped, winding an arm over his shoulder and setting down a take out cup and a little chocolate donut on his desk, “Pen said you like chocolate, and I mean who doesn’t like chocolate, right?” 

She was potent when she was so close to him, and in one single breath he caught a whiff of her shampoo, before she had flitted over to her side of the desk that sat opposite his, where Morgan once sat. Noticing his hesitance, mistaking it for discontent she paused, almost spilling her own beverage over the potted plant she kept by her keyboard, scrambling to set it on the surface.

“Y-you do like chocolate right? I mean they had strawberry too, I can switch yours with JJ’s, I’m sure she wouldn’t mind-” She splurged, and her face was much too worried considering it was a matter of a donut, particularly considering he was already eying up the way the thick chocolate was melting in the pastry bag.

“Chocolate is great, I love…” He held up the bag to read the label with squinting hazel hues, “Cocoa Caramel delight,”

He had never heard of it.

He had never even seen this brand, but he wanted to quell her nerves even in the slightest. The BAU didn’t have the funds for a new keyboard, let alone time to send her to the ER if she ended up spilling her coffee over her hand. 

She seemed convinced, and he offered her a small smile, not exactly his most enthusiastic, but then again he hadn’t been much of a morning person since he’d come out of prison. He liked quiet, he liked a moment to himself before Penelope called them into the round table for briefing. But she was sweet, too sweet perhaps for the dark nature of their job. 

He could already see it chewing up her perky disposition and spitting her right back out within a year. It happened to the best of them.

But she smiled back at him, a million watt grin that made him think maybe he was being a little cruel. She was still brand new, still trying to make friends and he remembered how hard he tried when it had been his first few weeks on the team. He turned his gaze away from her in shame, reading the way she’d written his name on the cup in a pink sharpie, framing it with two doodle hearts. 

She all but skipped away, sensing he didn’t feel like talking much anymore, and he heard Emily exclaiming she was ‘A caffeine angel sent from the heavens,’ as she handed her the drink. He watched her braided hair disappear down the hall as she bounced over to Penelope’s lair. 

He picked at the cocoa caramel delight with a kind of self loathing he was familiar with, the french vanilla still a saccharine sugar in his nose. 

-

She caught him again; though this time he felt her bristle past his arm, watching the bullets pierce the target paper with an accuracy that only came from fourteen years of practice. 

“Do you reckon you could teach me how to do that?” Her cadence was light and airy, and he had to stop himself from jumping, from slamming the butt of the gun into her nose on reaction, because he knew she meant well, even though she had no idea how damaged he was.

He was still out of sorts from having to look over his shoulder at every second of the day, and he was surprised he was holding it together so far. He supposed shooting the shit out of a target helped.

Because it was just her, looking at him with soft eyes and a smile that could start wars, and he knew she had no idea the effect she had on the walls he’d tried so hard to build in prison. 

She must have mistook his look for annoyance, because she was quick to fumble with her own loaded gun, taking a step back in retreat, worried that she crossed some line she didn’t know he’d drawn.

“Or I could get Luke to show me, I didn’t mean to bother you, I just am really a shit shot and I know that’s pretty useless in the field-” It wasn’t until he flicked the safety on and took a step to follow her did she look at him again hopefully. 

“No, I’d be more than happy to show you,” He cleared his throat, setting his pistol in its holster and stepping behind her as she lined herself up for the fake body meant to resemble an unsub, “We all have to start somewhere. Show me your form,” 

She raised her arms up in front of her, aiming for a few seconds for the spot in the centre of the chest cavity, her finger reaching up for the trigger. 

She shot once, her face hardened for the first time he’d ever seen, and they both watched the paper rip about half a foot down the unsub’s leg. 

“See, in my head it’s hitting dead centre and then by the time I shoot it’s wiggling all over the place,” She explained, scratching her neck and frowning at the paper body, “I don’t suppose unsubs are willing to stand still and wait while the rookie figures out her shot,”

“Your hips are perfect, wide stance means you get more stability against the ricochet,” She tried not to simper at his words, or the way he sidled up behind her, his hands coming up to her shoulders as if he’d known her for years, as if JJ hadn’t told her how much he hated other people’s germs, “It’s in your shoulders you’re losing balance, try relaxing a little,”

But she couldn’t not when he was breathing down her neck, rubbing those long fingers over her shoulder blades trying to get her to straighten out her posture, hoping he couldn’t feel the way her chest rattled with nerves. 

“Relax,” He reminded, trying not to chuckle when he felt her shake her arms out as a means of hiding the way her skin had warmed under his rough touch, “You know, my unit chief taught me how to shoot. I wasn’t at all good at it when I first started,”

“Oh really?” She asked, her breaths feather light as he reached around her and adjusted her grip on the gun, “H-he must have been a good teacher,”

“He was the best,” Spencer agreed, brushing off the fact she was all but putty beneath his hands, “Three steps for the perfect shot; front sight, trigger press, follow through. Always keep your head forward, always keep your dominant finger ready, and wait until you’ve shot to drop your stance,” 

She looked up at him in admiration, and her soft smile was back as his own musk of laundry detergent and chamomile soap encompassed her as his arms did. 

He brought one of those big hands to the back of her head, moving her with gentle ease to look back at the target, a slight chuckle in his voice as he spoke: “Focus, what’s step number one?”

“Front sight,” She echoed him, fixing her shoulders with determination as he dropped his hands and stepped away from her. Taking a deep breath, she murmured to herself under her breath the next step as her forefinger rested over the trigger. She pulled it after a moment of courage, and froze in spot as she watched it hit where the stomach would sit. 

Not a perfect shot, but certainly a lot better than she had been doing. 

Her eyes widened behind the thick protective glasses, and her hands became fists above her head as she squealed in delight. 

“Did you see that- did you see!” She yelled over the sound proof ear muffs they both wore, and he was quick to grab the gun out of her swinging arms, clicking the safety on for her before she could end up blowing a hole in the ceiling. 

“Very good, give it a few months you’ll be a natural,” He complimented with a smile as she clapped her hands in glee, buzzing on the spot as if she’d chugged five energy drinks or doubled up on her coffee for the day. 

He tried ignoring the way his chest warmed seeing her so happy because of him, especially when she looked at him like that. 

--

“You said you needed those files, Dr Reid,” She’d appeared again, like she always did, and he had barely enough time to glance up from the paper he was already inspecting before he was hit by the perfume again, and he looked up to see two bright eyes watching him hopefully. Her arms were piled high with easily a box full of folders he had asked Anderson to find for him, and he saw the way she strained slightly to keep them held tight. 

“Jesus! Let me help you,” She prayed he couldn’t feel the way her heart thumping against the manilla folders as he leaned over to take them out of her grasp, the way her eyes fell to his light smattering of facial hair as his lips were little more than a few inches from hers. Even when his hands brushed hers, and he seemed to realise she was staring, watching her scramble to look somewhere else other than his amused eyes, embarrassed he’d caught her, “Thankyou. And just call me Spencer,” 

“Thankyou,” She echoed, shaking her head with a girlish smile on her face, her cheeks warm with humiliation, “I mean you’re welcome, any time,” 

For the sake of her self preservation he waited until she turned around to smile to himself, pretending he didn’t see the way she muttered under her breath, or that she almost walked straight into the filing cabinet on her hasty exit out of the office. 

“Seems like you have a shadow,” Emily’s voice met him as he heard her heeled footsteps approach, and they both watched their newest team mate almost bump right into JJ as she kept her head down, stroking her hair nervously, “She was super excited to meet you when you were away, said she went to one of your guest lectures you did with Hotch a couple years ago,”

His brows shot into his hairline, something warm flourishing in his chest when he saw her peek back to see the two of them watching her, and she immediately darted for her seat for an excuse to turn her back to them. 

Spencer smiled again, running a hand through his curled locks as if he was trying to think of something else other than the joy that had over come his features. 

She certainly was charming, in an incredibly girlish way, and he wasn’t the only one who thought it. He hadn’t heard Penelope giggling so much since Morgan had left, nor did he miss the way Rossi and Emily watched her darting around in the field, chasing after her as if she needed one of those leashes people had for toddlers.

Or the way Luke had had to talk her out of bringing a stray cat back to the BAU just two days ago because ‘it looked sad and lonely’. 

She was only eight years his junior, and yet he felt like the job had made him too hard, too mature, too tough against a softness like hers.

Girls had never really been interested in him, at least not for him as Spencer Reid, not as SSA Dr Reid. He had the occasional fling, even Maeve in the grand scheme of things had been a budding romance at best, and just the thought of Cat Adams viper-like eyes had him shuddering. 

He barely wanted anything to do with women at the moment, at least that was what he’d told himself every night he’d been fighting for his damn life in prison. 

But it was almost too easy to feel this way about her, like he couldn’t drink in her sweet smell or even sweeter voice fast enough, or bathe in her gaze that melted like rich chocolate when he took a glance her way. 

He didn’t bring it up with her until they were the last few people filing out of the office. 

“I can drive you,” She chirped, almost dropping the contents of her bag everywhere as she rooted for her car keys, and before he could protest, because it was like all he could see now was how eager to be around him she was and he wasn’t too sure he could keep himself from opening pandora’s box, she jingled her keys, that of course had crochet bluebells hanging from them and all but danced past him into the elevator. “Come on, you can have shotgun,” 

“I’ll be the only passenger, doesn’t that mean I automatically have shotgun?” He asked, following behind her as she stood in the elevator with a beaming smile, her finger clicking the ground floor button a bunch of times even though it made no difference how fast the doors closed. 

“Well, yeah, but it’s going to be the best shotgun you’ve ever had. I’m talking you can be Miss Daisy and I’ll be your Morgan Freeman,” And as if her spirit was infectious, he shook his head with a hidden chuckle.

There was a minute of silence between the two as she played with a loose thread on her cardigan, and it was then he took the chance to ask her the question that had been burning on his lips all day. 

“You didn’t by any chance go to University of Pennsylvania, did you?” Spencer asked, noting the way her eyes fell to the floor and how she licked her lips nervously.

“Yeah,” She replied cautiously, fingers clenched tightly around her keyring, “I know it’s not Caltech, but it was pretty good-”

“Didn't you see my lecture with Hotch?” He asked, and his smile widened tenfold when her hands slapped over her cheeks that burned with horror, moving quickly up to cover her eyes, “Little birdy told me you were quite excited to meet me-”

“Oh, Emily,” She groaned, burying her face in her palms, avoiding his teasing expression like the plague, “I knew, I knew she was going to tell you, I’m surprised she didn’t tell JJ first, unless she did and our whole team know I was some crazy girl who liked the FBI agents so much she switched her major,” 

“You switched your major for me?” He asked incredulously and he only laughed harder, one of the first times since he’d come home, when she groaned louder, turning away from him entirely. 

“Shut up, I did not swap my major for you,” She bit back, and she finally met his gaze, her expression an embarrassed wince, “I just… liked the material. You were very compelling,”

“Did you have a poster of us?” Spencer wanted to stop teasing, knew he was being a little cruel, but how could he resist when she shrieked in between laughter, shoving his shoulder with mortification.

“No,”

“Did you kiss Hotch’s picture before bed like an obsessive fangirl?” 

She gestured to him vulgarly as they left the elevator and headed for the car park, and it made a huge difference to the usual adoration she watched him with, but maybe, he thought, it made him like her even more. 

“No more shotgun for you, you’re going in the trunk like an old rug,” She snapped, though he could tell she was still horrified by the way she avoided his delighted hazelnut gaze. 

“Like an old rug?” He feigned hurt, but when they sat in her car, she finally looked over at him with something vulnerable and yet affectionate, like he’d seen her for all she was worth. He reached over the console to squeeze her hand gently, not missing the way her palm clammed beneath his and she struggled for words, so he continued for her, “That’s really no way to talk to your idol, you know,” 

Spencer swore his chest felt lighter than it had in months watching her laugh like that.

[breannasfluff]

Danny’s funds are becoming increasingly slim and cutting back on food would be his first course of action. Except now there’s DeeDee to feed. He heads back to the bulletin board.

There’s a new advert up, Weed Pulling. Gloves Provided. The first call gets a busy signal, but when he tries again someone picks up. 

“Hi, I’m calling about the weed-pulling ad?”

“Are you strong?” a female voice asks.

“Er…yes?” Danny could pull on his ghost strength if he wasn’t obvious about it . 

“Can you be at the warehouse district on 220 tomorrow at 1?”

Because this is Gotham, he asks, “AM or PM?”

“AM. The weeds are weakest in the dark.”

Well, that sounds… shady as shit, as DeeDee would say. Still, pulling weeds can’t be too bad. Even if it is at night. In the warehouse district. Actually, this sounds like a bad idea–

As if the lady can hear the doubts in his head she says, “I’ll pay you $100 an hour.”

“Done.” Danny might have standards, but they include eating. At worst, he’ll use his ghost powers to escape.

The lady on the phone didn’t specify which warehouse, but it’s abundantly clear when Danny arrives. Vines are growing rampant over one of the buildings. 

“Are you the weed puller? I’m Pam.”

Danny turns to greet the speaker. She’s got red hair, glasses, and a baseball hat on. “I’m Dan.” Then he turns back to the warehouse. “That wouldn’t be your weed problem, would it?”

Pam joins him with a sigh, pulling off her glasses to clean them. “That would be it. It got a little…out of control.”

He doesn’t even want to know what made it grow to this size. It’s a localized Undergrowth all over again. Speaking of which… “Does it regenerate when cut?”

Pam turns to stare at him for a long moment. Maybe that’s a strange question to ask, even for Gotham. But then she says, “Yes. It’s too big for me to handle when it keeps growing back.”

With his ice powers, Danny could freeze the branches or even the base. From there, it would be a matter of pulling the vines off the building. Neither of which were feasible in his current form. 

He grimaces at the building. “Are you sticking around?”

Another long look. “I don’t care how you remove it if that’s what you are asking.”

“It’s not.”

Pam sucks her tongue against her teeth, then shrugs. “I could take a break for some tea. The area is empty tonight.”

Danny nods, already running logistics on how much time he’d need while keeping his powers less flashy. He’s not in Amity Park to simply blow the plant sky-high and call it a day. “Come back in two hours?”

“That’s a long tea break.”

“That’s a big weed.”

Pam stares, but Danny doesn’t back down. Finally, she shrugs again and hands him a pair of gloves. “Have fun weeding.” Her heels click on the pavement as she walks away.

Who wears heels at 1 AM for weeding? Probably the same people with building-sized weeds. 

Read the rest here!

[fabled-fiction]

Hiiii!! Can I request a hobie brown x fem reader where the hobie swings by the readers room and just cuddles with her because he’s tired from patrol and the reader loves it because he only has a soft spot for her! And it’s just very fluffy!

Open Window (Hobie Brown x Reader)

Summary: Hobie didn't realize how strung out he was until a certain someone crosses his mind.

Word Count: 1.2k

Warnings: MINOR SPIDERMAN ACROSS THE SPIDERVERSE SPOILERS

A/N: I tried writing in a fem reader and then realized as I was writing I neglected that. I tried going back it but it felt forced, I hope this still suffices!

It felt like he never slept.

When could he afford too? It seemed like every step forward he took in taking down Osborn and his regime, they took three. Every running start he had they moved the finish line.

It was exhausting to be honest.

And now on top of his own problems on his earth, this stupid watch wouldn’t stop beeping with anomalies that needed taking down and tethering back to their Earths.

Hobie could feel the bags forming under his already painted ones.

His head had been reeling recently. Jumping back to his Earth after coming from the Spider Society was never easy no matter how much radioactivity was coursing through his hardened veins. He had a theory that despite having the wristband that helped him jump back and forth, he needed one for his head. The shift in perspective, and what could be perceived as art styles of the different Earths were making his vision hazy. 

Perching himself onto the top of a billboard, Hobie hit the side of his head with the edge of palm. Maybe if he hit his head hard enough or in the right spot he could knock the buzzing in his brain out long enough for him to make sense of where he was. 

On occasion it almost felt like he was back in that stupid spider tower, or another unfamiliar Earth.

Shaking his head, he took a glance about the neon lit streets of his Earth.

Wait, he recognized this street…no wait. No yea he recognized where this street lead to. 

Pulling the edge of his suit wristband back, he pulled up the time on his watch.

4:32:02am

Hobie knew exactly what he needed to rejuvenate, to put the rock back in his roll. 

Standing from his perch, he felt his bones begin to ache as they realized where they were about to be. Pulling his mask back over his head, he was about to flip when his watch started to buzz.

The holographic face of Gwen popped up.

“Hey! Hobie, Im glad I caught you. You got a seco-”

“Sorry Gwendy, can’t talk right now.”

“Wait! I n-”

He couldn't swing fast enough.

There was a warm purple light coming from your window, leaking through your curtains like a holy light.

He’d have to lecture you about leaving your window unlocked for anyone to crawl into later, it didn't matter that you were on the 14th story of your building. But as of right now, as he peeled your window open he saw it as a blessing as he tumbled head first into your room.

Hobie hadn’t realized how long it had been since he had seen you.His spider work had always been number one, taking down the rising regime of fascism in his city. Even the Spider society jobs have seen more of him than his own bed. It almost felt like he was more Spiderman than Hobie Brown, his heroism taking priority over everything else.

Well, almost everything else.

But now as he stumbled about, throwing his sneakers and guitar in the corner of your room the only thing on his mind was you. More specifically crawling into your bed that seemed to always be WAY more comfortable than his.

He hadn’t realized how much he missed you.

Hobie was so preoccupied with getting out of his Spidersuit that was growing increasingly more annoying by the second, he hadn’t even realized you were now leaning against your doorframe.

Sometimes you thought he played up these so called spider senses. There was no way he let you sneak up on him as many times as you have.

“Where..I know you ‘ave it somewhere in ‘ere.” He mumbled to himself, digging through your drawers with little regard to your neatly folded clothes there were already in there. 

Placing your cup of water on your nightstand, you perched on the edge of your bed and watched as your once clean-ish room transformed to match the thought process of the sleep deprived Spider in front of you.

You knew what he was looking for, Hobie had a tendency to leave shirts in your room whenever he stayed over. He said it was for convenience, it made it easier to switch from Spiderman to Hobie Brown. You couldn’t count the amount of times on your fingers when you had done laundry and realized nothing in the basket was yours. He almost had a full drawer in your dresser.

“Try the very bottom drawer.” You yawn, a few joints popping as you stretched out whatever you could stretch out.

Hobie turned his head to look at you for only a moment, and you hadnt even realized that he had discarded his mask somewhere into the clothed chaos that was hurricane Hobie.

Falling back onto your bed, you let out another big yawn as you made yourself situated. You could hear Hobie shuffling about your room, making himself more than at home as he slammed the window shut. A very loud click of your window lock followed by a thunk of a thwip made you chuckle.

“You seriously need to considah lockin’ your window. Could’a been an unsightly fella.” He muttered as he reached to fully close your curtains.

“Well I know who to call if I see one of these so called unsightly fellas.”

There was a grumble that came closer to your bed, and what you swore you was the gulping down of YOUR glass of water followed by the creak of your mattress.

It was like a second nature to the both of you even though you hadn’t physically seen eachother in what felt like months (in reality it was only a week but you too were too clingy to admit to each other it had felt longer). Molding into one another was easy for you too.

Hobie’s arm easily found its way over your waist, pulling you as close to him as he physically could. The minute he had his head resting on your chest he swore he could feel the color coming back to him. Feeling your hand run over his wicks, and eventually come to rest on the nape of his neck made him break into a hazy smile.

But then his stupid watch started buzzing. Didn’t he take it off?

He tried ignoring it for a moment, hoping whoever was calling him would get the message.

When you had started to pull away was when he had enough. 

Ripping the watch off his wrist, he threw it across the room and webbed it to a random wall. Before you could even protest that he had yet again left webbing that would take months to come off, he wrapped his arms around you and flipped around so that you were laying ontop of him. His arms basically locked around you, and solidified that you two would not be moving for the rest of the night.

He needed this, and he could tell based off the way that you melted into him that you needed this as well.

“Hobie shouldn’t you have answered that?”

He could deal with the consequences later, right now he was exactly where he needed to be.

“Nah.”

[7s3ven]

SINGLE DAD! X BABYSITTER! READER HAS ME FROTHING OMGG. Even better when the rest of TF 141 is involved

part 1 | part 2 (coming soon - rest of tf 141 introduced)

master list

MDNI 18+

Warnings: big age gap, babysitter! reader, reader is in medical school (but still legal guys)

You told yourself it was just a temporary summer job, something to fill your pockets over the Summer break as you moved into another year of university. Medical bills were not easy to pay off and your old job that paid the bare minimum did not help you in the least. All it taught you was that you had a nasty uppercut (from the time you actually hit someone and got fired).

So, you found yourself standing in front of John Price’s house. You stared up at the tall building, brows raised in surprise. He had understated how big his house was… it even had a garden and a pool. You may as well consider it a mansion.

You quickly rang the doorbell, smoothening out your tight blouse. Your much more appropriate one was in the wash so you prayed whoever answered the door did not notice.

It was a tall middle-aged who greeted you, beard cleanly trimmed and… a hat on his head. “Y/N L/N?” He asked you. You swiftly nodded, softly smiling when he stepped aside.

“So, medical school, huh? Training to become a doctor?” He asks as he brews you a cup of tea while you read over his terms and conditions.

“A surgeon, sir. Not much better, though.” You offer him another smile, hoping to ease the awkward tension.

“Right. Next time I need surgery, I’ll call you up.” He takes a sip from your tea, which you notice but you say nothing. “Just checkin’ the temperature. Wouldn’t want ya to burn yourself.” He hands you the mug, his fingers lingering on your skin for a moment too long.

“I assume this is only a quick job for you? Just away to gain a bit of money to pay those student fees off?”

Your cheeks heat up in embarrassment as you nod. “Yes, sir. I know I should have clarified it but I’m a little desperate at this point. Besides, no retail places want to hire me… after I hit someone.”

Your words intrigued him. He let out a low chuckle as he sat across from you. “Now I’m interested.”

“Well… there’s not much to it… a guy kept staring at my chest. He said some vulgar stuff and next thing I knew, I was punching him.”

Price shrugs, leaning back in his seat. “The lad was askin’ for it. So, what do you think about the job? You’ll honestly be a glorified babysitter. Just do some cleaning and cookin’ here and there and make my baby happy and you’ll get a nice pay check every week.”

It all happened in a blur. You agreed to the job and weeks later, you found yourself at Price’s house more than your apartment. You hadn’t stepped foot into your apartment since two days ago, Price generously allowing you to use one of the guest rooms.

“Lila has a sleepover tomorrow.” Price mentions as you’re reading the instructions on how to make cookies for Lila’s bake sale.

Based on the cooking skills you had seen from Price, you doubted he could bake very well. In fact, all he could cook was steak, which was general knowledge for dads.

“I can drop her off if needed.” You offer while opening the packet of flour only for it to explode in your face. You smacked your lips together, grimacing. “Not a word.” You mutter to Price who’s chuckling under his breath.

“Wasn’t gon’ a say anything, love.” He helps wipe the flour dust off your face, still grinning in amusement.

In all honesty, your relationship with Price felt a little too domesticated, especially right now as you wore a frilly apron he had bought just for you.

“Your skirt’s too short, by the way.” Price grumbles, attempting to tug it down. “You sure no creeps stared at you on your way ‘ere? Wouldn’t want ya in danger.”

You push his hands away from your hips. “Even if people were staring, I’ll just punch them.”

You had tried to maintain a professional relationship with your boss but it was hard when he carelessly manhandled you and treated you like his wife rather than his daughter’s babysitter.

And all professional behaviour came crashing down when he unexpectedly stood behind you as you whisked the cookie batter.

“You look like a coke addict.” Price jokes, referring to the flour that still stained your face. “Like you got it everywhere but up your nose.”

“I can assure you, sir, I have never tried coke unless my friend daring me to snort sherbet counts.”

Price grins at your biting remark, his heavy hands falling to your waist. “Yeah? Heard it doesn’t feel too good with sherbet.”

“Not in the slightest.”

His hands trail dangerously low but you don’t have the courage to ask him to stop… nor do you really want him too. He seems to sense your willingness as he rests his face in the crook of your neck, body pressed up tightly against yours.

You feel more like his spoiled wife than a medical student just trying to pay her bills.

“You’re pretty, ya know that? Surprised you don’ have a boyfriend… or girlfriend. Or partner. Dunno what your label is.”

With shaking hands, you place the bowl filled with cookie batter to the side, afraid you’ll only spill it.

“Never met a woman as soft as you… most think I chased Lila’s mother away. But nah. Her mother ran off, leavin’ me with a baby. Not that I’m complaining, I love Lila… and without her, I wouldn’ have met you.”

You’re reduced to listening to Price’s words, stuck between his larger frame and the marbled kitchen counter.

“Sir.” You whisper but it reaches his keen ears. Everything after that is a distorted blur and you find yourself bent over the counter, clad in nothing but the apron, with Price right behind you.

Price was a mystery to you. How could a man be turned on by something as simple as an apron? Though, he was a single dad so it made sense.

Price is muttering praises in your ears as your knees tremble, threatening to buckle. You never imagined you’d be in your employer’s kitchen, having your back blown out by the man himself.

His hands were hungrily climbing your body, gripping every bit of exposed skin he could find. If it wasn’t for him holding you upright, you would have toppled to the ground in a heartbeat.

You feel Price lift a hand to grip your hair, tugging at your locks. He’s in a desperate stupor but you’re not any better, pushing back your hips to meet his harsh thrusts.

“Gon’ a fill ya up. Give you a baby of yer own. Fuck… be so pretty just like you. My perfect little wife.” He grunts in your ear. You have no energy to correct him; that you’re not actually his wife but you’d have no complaints if he bought you a ring.

If anything, his words spur you on more.

Your chest is heaving by the time you near your release. You’re whining like a damn dog, high pitched noises slipping past your saliva-slicked lips. And you only grow in volume as Price speeds up, pressing his body against your back.

He’s older than you, that’s a fact you knew from the start, but he’s definitely more experienced as well. His well thought out words have the desired effect on you as the coil in your stomach snaps.

Your fluids drip down your exposed legs, hitting the tiles kitchen ground in thick droplets. You hear Price swear under his breath, quickly pulling out and staining your back white.

He doesn’t say anything for a moment as he rests his forehead on your shoulder. Then he leads you towards his bathroom, ushering you inside and handing you a spare set of clothes.

“Imma place your old ones in the washing, yeah?” He mutters, pressing a soft kiss to your cheek before leaving you to wash off.

You sit on the shower floor for a good five minutes, replaying the moment in your head. When you finally cleanse yourself of sweat, you slip Price’s shirt over your head, inhaling the intoxicating smell of his cologne. It was the one you liked too.

His clothes engulfed you as you stumbled back into the kitchen, hobbling a little.

“I guess I’ll… get going then.” You murmur, fidgeting with your hands.

Price reaches out a hand to brush a strand of hair away from your face. Then he nods. “See you tomorrow night, lovie.”

Right, you still had to finish those cookies and pick up your clothes.

[moonstruckme]

hello love! i know you probably a dumpster load of requests so i apologize for taking your time. but i just had a thought.; james potter is totally the kind of guy to tell his girlfriend he's taken when drunk. like that man is to loyal for his own good. even when his own gf is trying to bring to home, he's just like "no. i've got a girlfriend that I love DEARLY. leave me alone" and when she keeps trying he'd call for sirius for backup😭. don't feel guilty if you don't do this!! i just wanted to share my thought, with or without you writing it! have an AMAZING day or night, and keep being YOU!! you inspire many people whether you believe that or not, it stays true!!!

Thanks sweetheart, love you!

cw: alcohol

modern au

James Potter x fem!reader ♡ 844 words

You find your boyfriend in a corner booth, hanging onto Sirius’ arm and waxing poetic about their school days. 

“They never figured out how we always avoided Minnie whenever she wanted to find us,” he snickers, eyes glimmering. “We were soooo slippery.” 

“I think she knew everything,” says Remus, taking a sip of his drink. You notice there’s not one in front of James; it must have been confiscated. “She just liked us—some of us, that is—” He hides a smirk behind his glass. “—well enough to let us get away with it all.” He spots you and, with a nod, turns his attention to Sirius to give you and James space. 

James humphs noncommittally, confused as to why Remus no longer seems to be entertaining him. 

You come up on his other side, touching his muscled shoulder lightly. “Hey.” 

James turns swiftly, clearing not having noticed you walking over. You’re expecting a smile and a hug and expectant, puckered lips—his usual greeting for you—but instead his eyes narrow behind his glasses, brows twitching together almost imperceptibly.

“Hello,” he says, somewhat stiffly. 

You feel your lips curve into a bemused sort of smile. “Hi, handsome. Ready to go home?” 

He guffaws. Actually guffaws, like you’ve just suggested he go jump in the Thames. “I think not,” he says. “I have a girlfriend.” 

A tiny laugh startles out of you. “Yeah, I’m aware. You alright?” 

Now he gives you a smile. Or his best attempt at one, but James has always been a terrible actor, and the false grin manifests as a grimace. “M’good, thanks.” 

He starts to turn back towards his friends, but you pull on his sleeve. 

“C’mon, Jamie,” you urge. “It’s time to go, yeah?” James turns around, looking truly scandalized now. You give his arm a tug. “Let’s go home.” 

“No,” he insists, firmer than you knew could be managed with a slur. “I told you, I have a girlfriend. She’s waiting at my home, ‘nd I love her very much. Leave me alone.” 

“James,” you laugh. “Honey, it’s me.” 

“Pads.” He turns around, wrapping his arm around Sirius’ shoulders like he needs to hold onto something lest you try and haul him away. “Pads, this woman is trying to take me home. Tell ‘er I have a girlfriend.” 

Your mouth drops open. “James!” 

Sirius turns slowly, raking his gaze over you. He raises an eyebrow, unimpressed. “Get lost, babe. This one’s taken.” 

Then he jolts and cuts a glare towards Remus, who sips from his drink innocently. “Be nice,” he reminds his boyfriend, foot moving back under his own chair. 

Sirius sighs, rolling his eyes. “Prongs,” he says with great reluctance, “this is your girlfriend.” 

Even drunk, James knows enough to be suspicious of his friend when he’s in a mischief-making mood. He squints at Sirius. “My girlfriend s’at home,” he reasons. 

“Your girlfriend is here,” Sirius says evenly, and you can’t blame James for his skepticism; if you weren’t fully aware that you are here, you wouldn’t trust Sirius’ deadpan stare either. 

“I texted her, James,” Remus says helpfully. “She’s here because I told her where we were.” 

Your boyfriend’s lips part, and he turns to you with something between joy and heartache—but the shock of both—written all over his face. “Sweetheart,” he cries, “it’s you!” 

“Yeah,” you laugh, letting him tug you forward by the hips into an awkward hug. You set a consoling hand on top of his head. “That’s what I was trying to tell you.” 

“My sweetheart,” he mumbles into your stomach. “I didn’t know it was you, angel. Of course I’ll go home with you.” 

“Glad to hear it.” You pat his back, heat rising to your cheeks at the display. 

James turns his head, still gripping you tightly so the side of his face is pressed to your front. “You texted her for me?” he asks Remus, maudlin.

“Well, I texted her because I didn’t feel like walking in the opposite direction of our flat to carry you home,” Remus says, then shrugs. “But for you too, sure.” 

“Thank you, Moony,” James croons. 

Remus turns to hide a smile, and you take James’ head in your hands, angling his face back up towards you. “Hi, handsome,” you try again. “Ready to go home?” 

He bobs his head happily, clambering out of his seat and whistling rowdily when you slip an arm around his waist to help support him. You wonder if the heat from your face could be harvested to power a hospital or something. You wave goodbye to his friends as James calls over your shoulder how much he’ll miss them until he sees them tomorrow. 

“M’so excited to go home, baby.” He leans into your side as you maneuver the both of you out the door of the pub. “I’ve been dying to get home to you. You should’a heard, earlier, I was talking to this other girl ‘nd I told her, ‘I’m just dying to get home to my girlfriend’.” 

“Yeah, I remember,” you say. “That was me.” 

“Oh, right!” 

[cthulhus-curse]

Webbed Hearts

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff

Word Count: 12,091

Warnings: Smut, Fluff, Spider-Person!Reader, Doctor!Wanda Maximoff | 18+ Minors DNI

A/N: If you remember this…hi :)

All that came crashing down was red when you saw her.

Pain had crashed through your body when laying sprawled across a gurney that was wheeled into the emergency room at the Presbyterian in Lenox Hill. You clung to your side that lacked any red spandex. Humming a tender song, your eyes came to close. Although you carried immense superhuman strength, nothing could prepare you for the wave of criminals rummaging through the streets of the city with a pitch black sky and lights beaming to enlighten it.

You had been quick enough to finish off the last batch for the night. With Kingpin behind bars all you had left were trinkled men of his scouring through the island of Manhattan in search of trouble. Rather than garner a good night’s sleep for your class early the following day, you decided to go after them.

“The doctor will be right with you,” the nurse told you once she secured your side knowing the bruise upon it wouldn’t be fatal. She surveyed your hooded eyes that showed no fear. It wasn’t the first time you had been through it. After countless visits to hospitals that surrounded the city, far away from home due to anonymity, you settled for the first one you could easily swing to without having to deal with the bruised ribs of yours or hiss your way to Brooklyn.

Since high school you have tasked yourself with protecting the city. Once bit by the spider, upon losing your uncle, you knew that with the great power you held came great responsibility. Surely the remaining heroes across the world, the Avengers whose tower stood proudly in the midst of Midtown, were far too busy to take on your shroud of the friendly neighborhood Spider-Person.

The stench of lavender filled your nostrils as a peculiar redhead donning a white lab coat approached you. Her hair was made into a bun held on the back of her head by a pen, reading glasses perched on her nose as she read the clipboard in her pristine hands with perfectly manicured black nails. Albeit beautiful, you didn’t miss the bags which formed underneath seemingly tired green eyes. Sympathy was sent her way. The last thing you wished to do was keep the woman by your side longer than you had to.

“A bruised rib, huh?” Her voice was smooth as honey. Such a sound would not be easily forgotten by you. “It’s 12:34 am on a weekday. How did you manage to do that?”

“The subway?” you sheepishly shrugged.

“What, did you jump in front of the moving train or something?” When she giggled, you swore your wound had been cursed. “You know, if someone did this to you I am legally obligated to tell the police. So tell me,” her eyes flickered over the papers on the board. “Y/N, what happened to you? You seem like a healthy and fairly intelligent young woman. I doubt you did this to yourself.”

The way your name rolled off her tongue, voice thick with what you pin-pointed as a Sokovian accent, made you shudder with warmth. “It really was stupid. My friend and I were messing around at his apartment and I kinda fell off the fire escape,” you lied. “I know it sounds really weird, but I am not really the sharpest tool in the shed.”

“Oh honey this is New York. This isn’t nearly the worst or dumbest thing I’ve seen in the past hour.”

“Really?” You raised your eyebrows at that.

The doctor hummed at that, leaving the clipboard by the foot of the bed to walk towards the side where your bruise kept growing. The noise from the busy ER was nowhere to be found. Instead you put all your focus on the older woman. Watching as she carefully lifted your shirt, pushing your shaking hand away, you swore your breathing ceased. Having her in such close proximity was a true pleasure.

“I had a lady come in a few minutes ago for an ear infection. She went to her doctor earlier today, was prescribed antibiotics, took a few and swung by because, as she put it, ‘I still feel like shit, doc.’ Sometimes I wonder if all those years I spent in medical school were really worth it. But then I get patients like you and I remember that helping people is why I exist,” she explained. Gentle fingers merely ghosted your skin that began showing in an angry light red hue. “Then of course there was a young man who was dared by his very intelligent friends to jump off a building and grab onto a flagpole. It’s still unclear to me if he knows about this wonderful thing called gravity.”

Laughing made the pain worse, but you couldn’t help the amused sound that came from the depths of your throat. Tears sprung from your eyes as you wondered whether they came from the stinging of your wound or the humor of it all.

The doctor made lighthearted small talk with you, telling you more of the enjoyable stories from her job to keep you from thinking about how much it all ached. There wasn’t much she could do given your pain didn’t elicit any severe symptoms upon you. All Wanda brought you was the comfort of painkillers that you knew wouldn’t have much of an effect upon your superpowered being. Well, unless you took four at once.

“So are you married or…?” The innocently asked question floated through the air forcing a smirk from your doctor who, upon further review, began filling out the paperwork for your medicine.

“Happily divorced,” she replied. There was no animosity within her words. If anything the divorce had built up since the first day they got married. “And not looking to have a mid-life crisis with someone younger than me.”

“Ouch,” you laughed it off, winking at Wanda who teasingly brushed her hand upon your bruise. “Ouch, fuck!”

“Stay still, darling.”

The redhead took her sweet time filling out the forms. Although with a frenzy of patients waiting for her until the shift ended, spending time with you was the highlight of the night she never knew she needed.

“Any kids?”

“A lovely pair of twins,” she was quick to answer, her face lighting up at the mere thought of her children. Although quite the devious youngsters cared for by their father when she took late hours of work, she loved them more than life itself.

Twins, huh? It was a lot, but you didn’t dare mind the information. “Huh, that’s cute. Fraternal or identical?”

“Why are you so insistent in asking questions? I barely know anything about you,” she tilted her head.

“Well my name is Y/N Y/L/N and you know that I have a fucked rib.” The pain of it all and exhilaration faced by being around such a beautiful specimen made you much more talkative and confident. “I’m also really good at baking brownies. You?”

“Wanda,” she mumbled. “Dr. Wanda Maximoff, quite literally at your service. Unlike you, I don’t have a cracked rib.”

Although you had only spent less than half an hour together, you desperately craved her presence more often.

///

Wanda Maximoff, how cute.

“So I met this girl.”

Sitting beside your best friend and roommate over the couch of the living room you shared, you broke the silence. The two of you had stuck to watching reruns of whatever Gordon Ramsey show you could find. You always brought up the fact that Julia Child was much better, hell even Rachel Ray, but Peter was insistent that the one true culinary god was Ramsay himself.

“Yeah?” His gaze didn’t break away from the television that she hypnotically stared at while plopping another mouthful of popcorn into his mouth.

“Well, this woman,” you were sure to correct.

That piqued his interest as he turned. The two of you were rather honest and open about who you dated, Peter having stuck by MJ’s side ever since high school as you found yourself more laid-back to the whole ordeal. Never had you gone for anyone older than a few years. “Oh?”

“She’s really pretty and I want to see her again. I mean she’s a doctor and works at the ER. We’re seeing each other again at some point given my career choice. More like a side hobby I guess.”

Peter was the first person who you told about your newfound powers back in your sophomore year of high school. He was quite surprised and unbelieving about it all, but as soon as you began crawling through the walls and ceiling before shooting webs from your very wrists, he was in awe. Only him, MJ, and your aunt knew of your not-so-secret identity.

“Wait, she's a doctor? How old is she?” He seemed worried at first, shutting off Ramsay as he yelled at yet another contestant of his show.

“Umm I’m not sure,” you shrugged, the ‘nor do I care’ going missing. “I don’t think people like being asked that. All I know is that she’s divorced and has twins! And she’s crazy pretty. I mean she had to touch me to do her doctoring job and I think that might’ve single-handedly healed me.”

“Dude you really shouldn’t go for that. She’s got a full life already with kids! You’re a superhero. What if you put them in danger?”

“Pete, I’m barely a hero, let alone super. Is it really that bad that I want to start dating around? Ever since I graduated high school I haven’t been able to do shit. Now I’m leaving college in a few months and I just…want to be happy for once. I don’t want to keep being this savior of the people for the rest of my life. Eventually I want to be with someone.”

Peter was unamused when he monotonically spoke. “With your mystery doctor who could be twice your age?”

“Yup!”

In theory it wasn’t a great idea, nor generally, but you couldn’t shake off the connection you felt with Wanda. Regardless of Peter’s ideals, you’d be sure to try and find your happiness. Lo and behold you’d regain a normal life after years of chaos.

///

With the next few months passing, you carried on about your life normally. During the day you were the average college student who breezed through the final weeks of the Fall semester, while at night you took the mantle of a spider-theme vigilante. Although rest was a commodity you weren’t keen to, keeping those across the city safe sated your need for a thrill, making them happy along the way.

Several visits back to the emergency room at the hospital Wanda worked at had proven to be rather fruitful from time to time. Although with most occasions she was nowhere to be found, the older woman who carried a fire in her eyes not having a set schedule, you were hit with a surge of joy whenever you feasted your eyes upon her – even if it meant watching from afar as another doctor tended to your wounds.

Many moments had the two of you shared silent gazes. Never did you dare stop thinking of her upon your return home. Wanda plagued your dreams as well as your waking life. And yet you couldn’t dare complain.

Another weekend in the island of Manhattan meant busy work ahead of you. Once tugging on your red and blue latex suit, you threw yourself off the window of your shared apartment with Peter, promising that you’d bring him back pizza for him to share with you for breakfast. You’d only be young once in your lifetime after all.

Swinging across the buildings in the city brought you a loving sense of freedom. The power and responsibility that came with your nightly activities was pushed to the back of your mind as you flew from skyscraper to skyscraper. No one could enjoy such an adrenaline-inducing activity quite like you. Especially not Peter who had nearly barfed all over your suit the first and last time you took him swinging around.

The night went by smoothly. Each crime you stopped gave you a high sense of fulfillment. They weren’t major, mainly petty criminals in desperate need of cash raiding stores across the island, bodegas at times in surrounding boroughs. Most nights you could take breaks at the top of a building, crack open a cold bottle of water that you had to press against your sweaty forehead upon taking off your mask, then gnawing at a grilled cheese sandwich from Mondo’s Eatery – quaint little shop in Queens frequented by one Spider-person alongside their much more normal alter ego.

All went by quickly, at least until someone that caught your eye was put in the line of danger.

You weren’t stalking her per se, you truly made yourself believe that. If anything you watched over your faithful emergency room doctor whenever you could, checking out if she got home safely each night across the island. Wanda, you found in a self-assured not-so-creepy-manner, lived by herself in a minimalistic apartment you envied. It was much bigger than your own, one that you could barely pay as it was, and grimaced for a moment at the thought of how much she spent per month to keep living there.

As she made her way across the street to reach her building, her eyes were downcast and upon her phone chatting away with the father of her children who agreed to bring the twins over the following week. Their relationship was amicable, and yet she carried disdain in secrecy at the venom she had been spewed so long ago.

When a car at full-speed made its way down the road Wanda waltzed through, all you saw was red.

“Look out!”

Swinging down the edge of a building, you threw a web across the adjacent one, aiming towards Wanda. You grabbed her swiftly mere seconds before she was to become one with the asphalt. As much as she screamed clutching her phone and staring across the city, you never once let go.

You settled for setting her down gently at the roof of her building. Knowing it was never easy for first-timers, you helped her lay on the floor, clutching your latex suit tightly as she attempted to catch her heavy breath. Being in such close proximity to her, your arm wrapped around her waist while tapping gently upon her skin, made you drool beneath your mask.

“That was a close one,” you awkwardly said, grimacing as you never knew how to break the ice after quite an event. “You should really be careful next time. New Yorkers are no joke when it comes to driving. I wouldn’t want you to be flattened by a 4x4.”

“Holy shit,” was all Wanda could muster. She turned to you, wide green eyes seemingly staring through your soul even if yours were covered. “You saved my life. I almost died and you-”

“Yeah it’s kind of my thing. Don’t worry, I do it a lot. It goes with the whole hero thing, you know?”

Wanda was able to let out a shaky laugh, although deep down you knew she still attempted to ground herself. “I don’t assume you’d like to come over for tea as a thanks. Spider…person?”

“That’s me, but no I have a rule about not fraternizing with the people I saved.” It wasn’t a lie, but for Wanda you’d always make an exception.

“Yeah? Did Tony Stark come up with that for you? Or was it the buff guy in red, white, and blue pajamas who likes destroying the city with the weird frisbee?” Wanda raised her eyebrows.

“Oh I wish. I’m not on the level of the Avengers yet. I’m just a friendly neighborhood Spider-person.”

When the redhead tilted her head as though it was her trademark move, you froze. “You are very friendly indeed. So, about that tea? I can even do coffee. It’s late and I almost died, why not make it a pizza?”

“I live and breathe pizza. It’s my favorite thing ever,” you smirked even though she couldn’t see it. Pizza. Pizza? You frowned at the familiarity of it, but upon a peculiar ringtone blasting through your phone, you cursed beneath your breath. “Oh fuck, Peter’s pizza!”

“Who?” Wanda questioned with amusement.

“Uh nothing, nevermind! You have a lovely evening miss- ma’am?” Although you wanted nothing more than to remain in place, sit down and chat further over a large pizza that you’d eat most slices from, you had a duty to the city and your friend. Waving off to the doctor, you jumped on the ledge. “See ya later doc! Try not to die!”

Wanda was taken aback. Although still stressed, she was able to pull herself off the floor and run towards the edge of the building where she watched you swing away as quick as you had appeared. Shrugging, she found it quite odd. Never had she told you she was a doctor.

///

Seeing Wanda across the city had become a daily habit of yours, an obsession as Peter put it. You had watched her from afar, intervening when required, and simply went off as though nothing had occurred. Upon your arrival at the emergency room where you saw one another differently, you began noticing a rather deliriously beautiful smile upon her features you had yet to see present.

“If I didn’t know any better I’d say you were stalking me.”

It would typically make you jump, and yet after countless times of saving Wanda from the very same fate – nearly being run over – you weren’t sure if it still surprised you. The banter the two of you shared, the unspoken bond that had settled between both you and the hero she looked up to, was nothing you wished to rid yourself from.

“Me? Stalking you? Oh no no no!” A lie. Another faithful night at the top of her apartment building had you leaning against the ledge. “I’m just your friendly neighborhood Spidey. I’m obligated to save a pretty girl when she’s in trouble.”

Wanda brushed the dirt off her slacks, shaking her head with amusing disbelief. “Girl?”

“Er, woman? Sorry.”

“I’m kidding. Gosh, you’re so easy to tease.” She was much more relaxed than at the hospital, a demeanor you had seen was saved for her children. “Who knew the spider vigilante was so cute?”

You ignored the blush that set upon your cheeks, thankful that your mask was on to hide your delicious embarrassment.

“Well I have to-”

“Go. You have to go. Again.” The final part was mumbled almost solemnly. Wanda wouldn’t admit it, but she had taken quite a liking to being saved by you. “Will I ever get to see what my knight in colorful spandex looks like?”

“Uh maybe,” you shrugged. “It’s just a secret identity for a reason. It’s not like we know much about each other.” Another lie. You had spent the better part of the last few weeks chatting amicably with the older woman, exploring different aspects of your individual lives in the safety of the rooftop. As much as you wished to tell her, you didn’t wish for her to react badly. “So, see you later?”

“Yes, darling. Until the next time you save me.”

To your dismay, you didn’t get to save her again in the coming weeks.

///

Although you didn’t get to see Wanda when donning your suit, you still had your ways. Ever so often you’d meet enemies who’d take quite the crack at you, leaving you needing minor stitches or an examination from the doctor. More often than not that task was given to your favorite redhead who began working much more at night.

“Would you still think I’m cute even if I was that swinging arachnid?” You questioned one day. In your defense your confidence and boldness was fueled by the medication running through your veins as she sutured your arm. “You know, the person with the red and blue suit.”

“I never said you were cute.” Her features gave her away fully as she beamed, not even keeping her joy hidden away.

“Well you didn’t say I wasn’t cute.” Watching intently, your eyes flickered upon Wanda’s as she patched you up. The blue from the latex gloves had become a favored color of yours. “Now answer the question.”

“Considering my children are obsessed with that buffoon of a hero, then yes, I would still think you’re cute. They saved me once anyway.” Wanda paused. “Well, a few times. But who’s counting?”

“Yeah?”

“Yes, darling.”

Taking a deep breath, you knew it was now or never. Talking it over with Peter had led you to believe that it was a bad, terribly thought-out idea according to your friend, but gazing at the beauty before you, you couldn’t find it to be true. Each day Wanda consumed your thoughts; each night Wanda consumed your dreams. Honesty was a first step you were willing to take, albeit risky.

“Well good thing I am them.” Your voice was shaky. The last time you had told someone about your secret identity had been years before. “Nice to see you again, Dr. Maximoff.”

Wanda shook her head and let out a howl. The mere thought, the amusing humoring, of one of her most regular patients being the Spider-person was too good to be true. “Sure, and I’m Black Widow.”

Rolling your eyes, you knew you’d have to show proof. After having looked around to make sure no one looked in your general direction, you shot a web from your bare wrists towards the small table beside you, pulling it to you with agility. Wanda wasn’t quite sure of what her eyes saw, if they deceived her, but as you shot yet another web towards the ceiling, she was left with her mouth agape.

“Y/N?”

“It’s really been awhile since we last saw each other. Well, when I was in my suit at least,” you chuckled. “So, uh, do you think it would be appropriate to ask you out now? On a date I mean. I can swing us to the top of a building or even take you somewhere. Just not too expensive because, you know, college student here. But I’d like to get to know you better if that’s alright.”

With her bewilderment still intact, Wanda involuntarily found herself nodding, deep down feeling relief that the two objects of her affection were one and the same.

///

There were a limited number of places you could take Wanda without Peter losing his mind about you spending a fortune, and yet as you left the apartment in silence, you didn’t care to tell him where you were headed. It was easier to swing there anyway, and you doubted he’d find it suspicious if you went out wearing your suit, instead arriving at Wanda’s apartment building only to change on the roof, leaving your backpack webbed to the ledge before making your way down.

You had found it difficult to move past the door that Wanda opened, smiling at you as she allowed you to feast your eyes upon the tight, black dress she donned. Suddenly it was your favorite piece of attire and color. Giving her a bouquet of flowers you had picked up along the way, you didn’t expect much, and yet the kiss placed upon one of your shining cheeks had you blushing for the entire dinner.

“So, uhm, you just shoot webs out of your wrist?”

If there was something you should know about Wanda, it was that she got right to the point. There was no hesitation within her as took a slice from the pizza she had made herself, handcrafting the dough and everything during the little spare time she had between her job and kids.

“Yup!”

“That’s…very interesting. Do you shoot them out of anywhere else?”

At the innuendo you blushed, turning away so Wanda couldn’t catch sight of your embarrassment. “No, no. It’s just the wrists. I promise I am perfectly normal otherwise. Well, except for the superhuman strength, durability, a weird healing thing, agility, the wall thingy, and the Spidey sense.”

“A what?”

“Spidey sense! I’m not sure how to explain it, but that’s just what I call it. I guess it’s like an improved gut feeling,” you explained. Unless she experienced the same as you, she lacked the depth to understand it. At least that’s what you thought until she nodded, seemingly pleased with your response. “Thanks for the pizza by the way. I didn’t peg you for a margherita kind of gal.”

“Well, I have been wanting to sit down and have dinner with my savior for ages now. The least I can do is get you something you’d enjoy.”

Hesitating to take a bite from your third slice, you stared at her. “Do you just see me as the person who saved your life or-”

“Oh gosh no, darling. To me you’re Y/N, the very interesting patient who always makes my nightmares at the ER quite enjoyable.” The warmth in her beam did not go missed. “And of course I have to take into account the fact that you enjoy throwing yourself off buildings in your spare time. It doesn’t matter what you do. I find you to be a very interesting specimen, sweetheart. And if you’ll allow me, I’d love to get to know you better.”

You settled for that response, not noticing the glint in Wanda’s eyes as she watched you look down to attempt to hide a mad flush upon your cheeks. Numerous insecurities came crashing against her at once. She was much older than you, a mother of two children, a divorcee, and most importantly a doctor who had a very demanding work schedule. Her priority was to serve others, but she mused that so was yours. Together you were quite perfect for one another.

The two of you remained seated over the dining room table, the apartment silent let alone for the voices which boomed with the other. You hadn’t felt as relaxed as you did talking to her in comparison to anyone else, not even your best friend and roommate.

“What about your kids?” You decided to ask once Wanda had brought up your family. “Twins, right?”

“Yeah, my boys,” her face lit up at the instant mention of her beloved children. “Billy and Tommy. They’re my whole world. Both are ten right now, which is a very tricky age as you know. But they’re really the sweetest kids ever. And their father he…”

You waited for an answer, but when she didn’t give you any, you pushed on. “What about him? If you want to talk about it I mean.”

“It’s fine,” she brushed it off. “It happened years ago anyway. We got divorced when the boys were two. Everyone assumes the two of us are okay and to a certain extent we are, but it wasn’t pretty. There was a lot that went on between Vis and I. I just…I haven’t allowed myself to be with anyone else since the divorce. I’m not sure how to properly date someone.”

With raised eyebrows you found yourself giggling. It took Wanda aback, of course it did, but you quickly explained your amusement. “It’s not really rocket science, Wanda. We’re just getting to know each other. We talk, we laugh, and we enjoy the other’s presence. I like you, a lot actually. Just relax, take it easy.”

“I don’t think I’ve been able to relax since I graduated high school, but I’ll try,” she snorted.

The evening was quite peaceful. For the first night ever you allowed yourself to take a break, to enjoy the little time you had with Wanda, to sit beside her on the couch and snicker as she put on her favored sitcoms – learning she adored them was a rather endearing fact you’d forever remember about the woman.

The New York City skyline would never carry the same beauty as did Wanda. Although her eyes darted out the window watching the sunset intently, yours were on her god-like appearance. You couldn’t even begin to count your stars at the mere fact of being there.

“I’ll miss you,” Wanda said when it was time for your departure. The half-eaten pizza was cleaned up by you as she stood back, your appetite gone as you focused on being beside her, stubbornly having attempted to stop you from tidying up. “But I know that duty calls. Time for you to save lives, honey.”

Never would you stop the ends of your mouth from rising at the pet names. “I’ll miss you two. I had a lot of fun tonight. I really can’t wait until we do this again.”

That night when you swung around the city, not a thought filled your head other than Wanda.

///

Each passing day you sent Wanda a new picture of yourself, not knowing she adored saving them all into a little folder on her phone meant for just you. Winter was upon you, meaning the hours she put into the work at the hospital were shared with the moments she spent rummaging through the city in search of gifts for the twins. For that entire month, she was a gift-giver, only Santa on Christmas Eve.

During her break at the hospital, she found herself searching through her phone for gifts, all while smiling at the ding of a new message from you. Opening it up, she found you wearing your trademark suit, pointing the camera over yourself as your other hand held a pole in the midst of the sky.

Wanda: Where is that?

You: Top of the Empire State Building. I should really take you here someday.

Wanda: No thank you, my little spiderling. I haven’t recovered from the first few times you took me swinging. It’s freezing out anyway. Not all of us have been bitten by radioactive spiders.

You: I’ll find the spider again and make it bite you. That way you can be Spider-girl!

Wanda: Spider-woman**

Wanda: Were you able to find the Lego sets?

Another image was sent, only this time it was the inside of your backpack which carried differing sets of Legos from Harry Potter: one was a Gryffindor themed one while the other was Ravenclaw.

You: Here they are. How come you need them so soon anyway??? Christmas isn’t for a few weeks.

Wanda: But Chanukah is next week, my darling. The twins have been begging for these. Now I just need to find a new chanukiah. Last year Tommy was running around the apartment and ended up breaking it. I can’t tell you how much that little boy cried.

You: I didn’t know you were Jewish.

Wanda: I am. This season always puts a dent in my bank account. The twins celebrate both Chanukah and Christmas from their dad’s side. It’s hell trying to not spoil them but also get them enough gifts for them to enjoy.

Wanda: Now I have to go, sweetheart. We both have lives to save. Stay safe and warm!

You: Try not to fight any patients. I know some people are dumbasses but one of us needs to have a stable job. Bye, miss you already <3

You tightened the scarf around your neck after having shoved your phone into your backpack. Wanda refused to let you carry out your vigitanlism if you simply wore your suit with nothing to keep you warm. So in her motherly mannerism, she wrapped a scarf around you, guided a beanie over your head with earmuffs, and handed you a coat. She hadn’t been quick enough to get you to wear warm layers over your legs or a sweater. The last thing you wanted was to run around the city wearing a full set of warm gear with only your mask to show off your heroic identity.

Swinging through the city knowing Wanda was there to wait for you at the end of the day, being able to drop by her apartment even if the children were around and finding time to sneak a few loving moments, made it all worth it.

///

Since you became official with Wanda, visiting at the hospital seemed to have lost its meaning. So rather than drop by the emergency room for her to stitch you up, more often than not you found yourself crawling across the walls of your girlfriend’s apartment building, sliding the window she left unlocked just for you before making your way inside to the warmth of the room.

“Wanda,” you whispered. There was no correct way to wake her up, you had found. Either way she’d scream her lungs out, still not used to seeing her partner hovering on the ceiling by a web hoping to get some medical attention. “Babe, I know you need your beauty sleep because you got a demanding job and some gremlins running around, but I could really use your help.” Even then she didn’t budge. Well, at least until you not-so-carefully shook her awake. “Wanda!”

Although ridden with fear, Wanda was adorable when she sat up immediately. Her eyes were wide, forehead coming in contact with your own covered one for a rather heavy hit. You were fine of course, but the same could not be said for the average human who rubbed her face while hissing with pain.

“Baby there is a door for a reason,” Wanda groaned, droopy eyes coming in contact with your figure. “And other doctors at the hospital.”

“Well you’re my doctor,” you mused.

“I’m also your very tired girlfriend,” she retorted. As much as she pretended to dislike being awoken in the middle of the night, Wanda beamed when eyeing you. She would forever find herself in awe with your presence. “What happened this time?”

“It’s nothing bad, just a little fall down a building.” At your words Wanda snapped her head up. “Don’t worry, doc. I’m superhuman, remember? Nothing hurts, but I wanted you to check it out just to be really sure.”

Wanda sighed, shaking her head with disbelief. She had yet to understand how your biology worked and differed from her own, but knew it was best to not ask many questions as you didn’t even know yourself. She was fascinated by the hero, but even more so by the angel that hid behind the mask and knew she’d be more worried if you didn’t say anything.

“Let’s see.” Wanda allowed her hands to run across your mask, finding the edges of it that attached to the rest of your bodysuit. She tilted her head upon meeting your eye line with raised eyebrows. “May I?”

“Go ahead.”

Pulling your mask down, Wanda licked her lips. You were freezing to the touch, but she knew you didn’t feel the cold as intensely as she did. Fingertips ran across your flushed cheeks, the mask being left halfway on as she studied what she saw.

You didn’t pull back as Wanda inched forth, her lips ghosting over your own. “I missed you, little spiderling. I only wish you’d visit me other than when you need a doctor’s gift.”

Before you could dare muster a reply, her mouth crashed against your own. She kissed you hard as though you hadn’t in days, because with the winter season taking full-force, her time mostly spent working and celebrating Hanukkah with her children, you rarely got to sit down and be with one another. There was nothing normal about your relationship, but you both wished to reach for it regardless.

Holding your head in place as you remained floating from the ceiling, Wanda made out with you. The children had long resided sleeping in their beds, far too gone within Sandman’s realm to dare interrupt the delicious moment. When she slipped her tongue past your welcoming lips, you wondered if you had the willpower to stop this from growing. She was far too intoxicating, you being drunk in her, to deny her.

“There’s challah in the kitchen,” was the first thing Wanda said as she pulled back, her face sharing a similar hue to your own. “And as much as I’d like to keep going, I really want to make sure you’re not about to die on me.”

“Yeah that’s fair. Can I, uh, sit on your bed?” You questioned.

“You don’t even have to ask, sweetheart.”

Being nuzzled close by Wanda once you had shed your suit and mask away wasn’t a rare occasion. Instead you found joy in your skin being analyzed by the physician, relaxing as she ensured that no major damage resided on your body. She had stocked up on bandages, gauzes, and enough hydrogen peroxide to cure a small army for your sake. If anything, she adored the little moments she got to play doctor at home with you by her side.

When it came down to just you and her, life was peaceful for once. No longer did either of you have to worry about patients, citizens in need of help, or even children that she dearly loved. It was just you two sharing the sweet moments you’d never easily get rid of.

“I don’t mean to be rude, but do you have anything other than bread? I kinda skipped breakfast…and lunch…and maybe even dinner,” your voice got lower by the second. Wanda had long ago reminded you of the importance of eating, but being busy with finals and heroism, you barely got time to shower at night.

“You really have to take better care of yourself, honey. You may be a hero, but you’re still a person. Basic self-care shouldn’t be alien to you.” Wanda held herself back from reprimanding you. It’s not like you were one of the twins, and yet she couldn’t help but care for you in such a close manner. “But yes, Dr. Lewis brought a delicious matzo ball soup. I think you’ll like it.”

“Darcy?” Wanda raised her eyebrows at that – it didn’t go missed by you. “When you weren’t around she was the one to nurse me back to health. After doing my stitches for a few weeks and talking about the best pizza in the city, we’re now on a first-name basis.”

“Hmm well she’s a wonderful doctor,” Wanda pointed out. She took a pause before allowing her insecurities to get the best of her. “Younger.”

Although mostly oblivious, you could sense the hint of venom and sadness in her voice. Wanda gave a lot of thought to the difference in your ages.“I guess, but you’re the only doctor I got my eye on. Really the only person I care to kiss.”

“That is very sweet of you.”

When Wanda didn’t smile, you did it for her. “Well, it’s true.”

Once you were all checked out, your side merely patched up with little scrapes that would soon heal, Wanda guided you towards the kitchen. She still found it amusing how you pranced around in what she called ‘a very colorful and stretchy pajama bodysuit.’ Teasing you was truly the highlight of her days.

While you took your seat on a stool in the kitchen island, Wanda set off to find the remaining food. She found it heartwarming that although you didn’t share her beliefs, you could appreciate them alongside her culture. Throughout many dates you called restaurants ahead of time to ensure proper dishes for your girlfriend who always pecked you on the cheek for being so sweet to her.

As you fed yourself a mouthful of the dish, you suddenly piped up. “Oh I finished my last final today!”

Wanda shook her head at the childish manner of yours to speak with your mouth full, but her exhausted face was fueled with pride. “That’s wonderful, baby! Physiology, correct?” You nodded. “How was it?”

“I think it went well. I dunno, I just hope I didn’t entirely fail the class.”

“You are a very smart and capable person, okay?” When her features turned serious, you knew Wanda was about to give you the pep talk of a lifetime. “You’d never fail at anything. I am very proud of you for even having done the exam. Now don’t you dare put yourself down, my dear. You sell yourself far too short when having such a big and beautiful brain.”

“You think my brain is beautiful?” Eyebrows raised, you took another mouthful of the soup. “Gross.”

“It’s so sexy.” You and Wanda shared a lighthearted laugh, ensuring that you weren’t loud enough to awaken the twins you had yet to meet. “Now be good for me and eat up. I’m not letting you go back home in your condition. There’s an extra spot in my bed for a reason.”

Although there wasn’t anything wrong with you apart from a faint bruise, Wanda was having none of it. That night you slept better than ever after having showered, wearing oversized pajamas she had given you before laying by her side. You only hoped she wouldn’t comment on the way you awoke with both arms wrapped around her waist as you mirrored a koala – for Wanda, that is what a perfect life was.

///

Wanda: Would you like to meet the twins?

You stared down at your phone when you received the message. It had become a custom for you to always immediately look at it when the distinctive sound of Wanda’s texts came through. She could need you, or be in mid-emergency. Whatever it was, hers were always the first messages you saw in the morning.

You: Yeah! That would be awesome actually.

You: Wait Spidey-me or me-me?

Wanda: Whatever you feel comfortable with, angel. I just thought we’ve been together for two long months. And it’s almost Christmas so they’ll be far too busy with their dad after the 24th.

You: I guess it can’t hurt for them to love me because I’m their favorite superhero.

You: I am their fav superhero, right?

Wanda: 🤐

You: WANDA!!

Wanda: Yes, bubala. You are their favorite. What matters most is that you’re MY favorite!

You: So cute. I’ll call you later tonight and we can work something out. Now go save some lives, Dr. Maximoff!

Wanda: You too, b'shert. Keep warm for me.

Each message she sent you made you smile more than the last. Nothing, no one, had allowed you to feel in such a wondrous manner. Wanda was a breath of fresh air. She was the calm, serene cool breeze on a Spring morning after having woken up to open the window — so beautifully rejuvenating you with life.

You’d never let her go.

///

You weren’t sure what to bring to meet a pair of ten year old boys, but perhaps bags of candy Wanda would surely confiscate and the surprise of meeting a superhero would be enough. The day in which Wanda invited you over caused you great stress, your hands shaking at each given moment, only increasing once you left your home.

“You’ll be fine,” Peter had told you. “They’re just kids. Plus, if it doesn’t work out then you can always, you know, take advantage of the whole superhero thing.”

It was wrong, but you realized he had half a point. Perhaps it wouldn’t be as horrible as you thought given that they were Wanda’s children, but you feared that if they disliked you, that perhaps you’d break up with Wanda — or worse, you’d get between their relationship.

As scared as you were at first, upon seeing the curious eyes of the twins you could only smirk at them, offering the candy you brought as a peace offering while Wanda threw a hard gaze your way.

“Are you Y/N?” One of the twins, Tommy as you recognized from the pictures Wanda had sent and shared with you, questioned.

“Are you dating our mom?” Came Billy’s blunt curiosity.

“Billy!”

You threw Wanda a sympathetic gaze at Wanda, stooping to the boys’ eyeline. “Yes to both of those questions. I hope it’s okay that I’m seeing her. Your mom is a wonderful warrior of a woman and I couldn’t be happier by her side. I’m sure the two of you are just as amazing as she is, huh?”

“Maybe,” Tommy shrugged as she attempted to keep his amusement down.

The four of you sat around the dinner table, you across from Wanda who failed to keep her joy of you being there down. She eyed you every once in a while as the children chatted about the eventful weekend they had with their father. Although seemingly a good parent, you had your reservations about that extending to his persona.

You couldn’t help but find the similarities in Tommy and Billy alongside their mother. They both carried her charisma, the glint in their eyes as they passionately spoke about their favored topics. You learned that not only were they avid comic book readers, but that from their own words their own shared bedroom was solely dedicated to their favorite heroes – you wondered if that extended to Wanda’s heroism.

“Boys, Y/N actually has something they’d like to tell you. It’s about that…swinging spiderling,” Wanda couldn’t pass up the opportunity to tease. “Honey?”

“Oh, uh, yeah. Well, I guess there’s not really a way to sugarcoat this, but I’m the Spider-person,” you flashed them a toothy grin, but as content as you were relaying the information, they only stared at you blankly.

“Like for Halloween?” Billy asked as he turned to his brother.

“No, I mean I’m the person behind the mask. Swinging around the city and stuff like that.”

The boys eyed their mother, silently questioning your sanity without muttering a word. They had met their fair share of bizarre girlfriends their father had, but never did they imagine their mother to have stooped to such a level.

“Okay fine, look,” you rolled your eyes, raising the sleeve of your warm sweater to point it at the wall. “Sorry, Wanda.” Upon your apologies, you shot a web towards your partner, reaching her fork before pulling it towards you. “Ta-da!”

Although surprised, the boys still weren’t sold on it.

“Anyone can do that. We got web-shooters too, you know,” Billy said.

Sighing, you couldn’t help but stoop to the lowest levels to impress them. You pointed at your bare wrists, showing them off so that they could see the lack of shooters on them. “But I don't have- never mind. I’m just gonna borrow your ceiling real quick.”

“Knock yourself out, darling,” Wanda laughed, making sure that her boys were eating while enjoying the show you put on.

After crawling through the walls and ceiling for long enough, nearly breaking half of Wanda’s decorations at that, you were sure it was enough for the twins to tell what your heroic identity was. You knew your girlfriend wasn’t too keen about you rummaging through her home without walking on your two feet upon the floor, but even she chortled when you hovered from a web above Tommy and Billy, the twins elated to find that their mom’s partner was their favored hero.

From then on, on days which you could visit, at least once a week, you found yourself planted over Wanda’s couch. Your job was to bring the snacks and popcorn while Wanda provided the movies. Together you bonded much better with the twins, and for the first time in your life you didn’t mind being seen as a parental figure.

///

The holidays alongside Wanda went by with ease. You didn’t have much of a family, always celebrating Christmas with MJ and Peter, at times even Ned and May. Although missing them, you found solace beside your newfound girlfriend.

“How do you light it again?” You questioned, eyes darting across the chanukiah sitting before you. The last thing you wished to do was to tarnish such a valuable part of her religion. “Babe, I’m scared to set your place on fire.”

“Hush. You light it from left to right. ‘Left to right, that’s how you light’ is what I tell my boys,” Wanda explained as she stood behind you, her hand guiding your own. “Always light the shamash first then light the rest with it.”

Doing as you were told, you lit the candle in the middle, carefully making sure none of the fire landed over the table. Usually the boys were there to properly help your inexperienced self, but now that you were alone by Wanda’s side, there was no hiding behind the pair of ten-year-olds.

“And don’t you dare break my chanukiah either. Pietro bought me this one and I love the design,” Wanda told you. “Look at that beautiful crystal.”

“Please focus on me and not the crystal. I know it looks fucking awesome, but I think I’m about to accidentally desecrate an entire culture,” you whined as your hand began shaking, the candle merely hovering over a fresh unlit one. “I’m so sorry Wanda, I-”

“HaShem will forgive you, sweetheart. And you are doing great. Here, let me help.” Wanda guided her hand atop your own, letting it run across a candle that she helped you light. She remained there for a few seconds before pulling it away to carefully light the rest on their proper other. “Did you know that the central candle represents HaShem’s light? This chanukiah is a symbol of enlightenment.”

You hummed at that, pressing your back against Wanda’s front. Turning slightly, you didn’t miss the glint of pride she received upon eyeing the candelabra. “Thank you for teaching me about this. It’s really important to you, so it’s important to me too.”

“Hmm how sweet,” she hummed.

Hugging you from behind, Wanda’s lips found your own. It began as a sweet peck, simply embracing all the unspoken love she held for you. As much as she adored her children, the redhead couldn’t be happier that she had uninterrupted time by your side while on a lengthy break from work.

The two of you have lacked the loneliness to be together. After nearly three months of becoming official, the desire you had for the other had reached its boiling point. It was only a matter of time before said volcano erupted.

“You look beautiful tonight,” you whispered against Wanda’s lips. Turning around, you got a full view of her outfit lit up by the six candles. It was a simple cardigan alongside warm yoga pants, and yet you couldn’t help but see her as the most beautiful specimen across the galaxy. “Such a pretty thing.”

“I could say the same about yourself, zeeskeit.” Wanda pulled you close, her hands running down your deeply clothed body which shielded you from the blizzard being carried across the New York skyline. She let her fingertips travel beneath your hoodie, an area she only halfway explored during your lengthy make-out sessions over her bed after your patrol sessions. “May I touch you? Am I allowed to…make love to you?”

“Make love to me?” You raised your eyebrows because beneath the charade of being older and wiser, Wanda was nothing but innocent when it came to lust. She blushed slightly at your institution and attempted to pull back, but you held her face close, thumb running down a reddened, warm cheek. “Yeah. You can do anything you’d like, Wanda. Anything just for you.”

Closing in on you, Wanda allowed you to feast upon the warmth she exuded. Her lips teased your own with small grazes, her eyes darting to them before wetting her own with her tongue. “Come here, my love.” Becoming one, she grabbed your hands tightly, forehead pressed against your own as the oil from the chanukiah burned brightly. With viridescent eyes closed, she breathed out. “Tzu gezunt, tzu leben, un tzu mazal.”

You were dragged to her bedroom by excited arms which simply begged you for fun. Wanda’s giddiness matched an immaturity you held as a young adult, throwing herself over the edge of the bed in sitting position before pulling you over herself. The life in her eyes was lit with the fire in the living room.

“I don’t tend to do this, you know?” Wanda muttered against your lips, taking them in control again, kissing you tenderly. “But I’m happy to make an exception for you, pretty one.”

“I’m honored. I can’t believe I’m the only one who gets to have you like this,” you told her, your mouth dropping a flurry of endearment across her face, merely hovering over her ear with hands that tugged at her clothes. “May I?”

“Knock yourself out.”

As though she mirrored a porcelain doll, you began undressing Wanda. Each article of clothing was shed little by little, her cardigan merely inching up her skin in a slow tempo as the two of you made out. There was hesitation in her body that froze at times, but melted when your lips guided her.

There too was uncertainty in you. With superhuman strength you could easily lift a car and not bat an eye, meaning hurting Wanda wasn’t completely off the table. You didn’t allow your hands to stay long upon her midsection as you removed her top, instead substituting them with your sight that didn’t leave your girlfriend’s upper body which lacked a brassiere.

“Holy fuck,” you drooled at the sight of her bare breast, far too afraid to break such artistic beauty. Praxiteles only wished his Aphrodite matched your own. “There’s no way you’re this pretty. It should be illegal because fu-

A finger landed over your lips successfully shushing you.

“You swear like a sailor, sheifale,” Wanda giggled and you swore you could only see a goddess before you. “Let me help you out of your clothes. It’s not fair if you only get to see me.”

The pout she threw at you was enough to make you inch back, immediately grabbing your clothes and throwing it off. You nearly fell against the bedside table and the pants that pooled at your feet. At least until success met you halfway and you simply stood there with nothing but your underwear on, embarrassed as you noticed the little dogs with Santa hats on.

Looking down at yourself, you didn’t dare face Wanda. “Yeah, sorry about this. It was a gag gift from last year’s Secret Santa. May gets really into Christmas and she loves dogs so…”

“And here I thought you couldn’t get more adorable.” Wanda shook her head with amusement, her room dimly lit and yet you could see every ounce of happiness upon her. “Now come here. I miss you already.”

You helped Wanda off her pants, shifting her so that she’d lay with her head against the fluffy pillows you found to be wildly comfortable after having crashed over for various nights. Her legs were smooth against your touch, so adorably responsive as your partner squirmed at the slightest caresses. You ran your hands up until you grabbed her backside, squeezing it as you pulled her in for a kiss.

Fingertips merely grazed her lacy black panties, yanking down the edges before-

“Wait stop.”

As soon as she spoke, you followed. While on top of Wanda you fully drew yourself back, breathlessly staring down with confusion. Her arms covered her chest, insecurities arising as she closed her eyes, hair coating her face to give her an extra sense of privacy.

“What’s wrong? Did I hurt you?” You questioned with furrowed eyebrows, inspecting Wanda in search of any pain.

“No, no, I just…” Wanda felt shame rising through her nude body. “I’m scared.”

“Me too,” you sympathized with her, you really did. Fear was nothing new for you. Ever since you got bit by that spider, not a day went by where you didn’t feel as though it would be your last. With enemies only increasing in size and powers, it was only a matter of time before the friendly neighborhood Spider-person was bested. “I’m scared to hurt you,” you admitted solely. “What are you afraid of?”

Wanda held your hands with her own, brushing her thumbs against the back of them before throwing you a reassuring smile that instantly turned bitter.

“I’m scared that maybe you won’t like what you see. Honey, it’s no secret that I am older, you know this,” she couldn’t help but say with dismay. “I have kids and I’m pushing 40. After the pregnancy Vis could barely even look at me. I’m not as pretty as the other girls you probably see on campus. Your friends. I’m…old and weird. I have stretch marks and I’ve never even been with someone who wasn't him before or after-”

At that you frowned, unbelieving the words that had spewed from her mouth. Surely you understood the fact that her job and children took up most of her time, but Wanda’s beauty shone across the galaxy brighter than the sun itself. “You haven’t?”

“No, sweetheart,” she felt humiliated to not be as experienced as she believed she should be. “I met Vis in high school. It’s always been him. I was supposed to grow old with him, not by myself…”

“Shhh it’s okay. I don’t mind.” You admitted, nuzzling your forehead against her own. A kiss was placed upon the tip of her nose, her face even more dashing without an ounce of make-up covering it. “And you’re not alone. Never with me.”

“But I’m ugly,” Wanda practically cried, unable to tear away the knot in her throat.

“Baby, what? Where is this coming from? You’re not ugly at all. You’re a warrior. You have given birth to not one, but two kids! Look at how far you’ve gotten in your career. With, again, two kids!” Seeing her in such disarray over untrue facts she spewed tugged at your heartstrings. Why couldn’t she see herself for what she was? Perhaps not all goddesses knew of their wondrous powers. “You’re perfect.”

“But honey, my body…” Wanda tried to muster out, but you shushed her to quiet down. Fingertips trailed across a raised scar on her abdomen, exploring the brutal force it had been made with. “Tommy came out fine, no trouble when I was giving birth to him. But Billy he…he was a c-section. The doctor didn’t think he’d make it, but he pulled through at the last second. It was the only way to get him out. As much as I love him, this,” with teary eyes, Wanda touched the marking on her skin. “Ugly scar, it cost me my marriage and my beauty. Vis couldn’t even look at me afterwards. A mutilated wife.”

You shared the sentiment, your own eyes filling up with tears. “If I ever meet him, I’m shoving my foot so far up his ass, it’s coming out his throat. That fucking idiot…” you whispered, a bout of bile rising up your throat.

Wanda didn’t react. She had long been told the same things from her friends, from Dr. Lewis who even once threatened to castrate her ex-husband with a scalpel from her operating room. She couldn’t find the truth in the statements. Vis rolled his eyes whenever she attempted to surprise him during anniversaries, the dreaded August 23rd. He would never lie to her.

“Can I see you?” You questioned, your eyes darting to Wanda’s tender ones raw with tears. “Only if you want. We can sit back on the couch and watch a movie or something. I could swing around and get us some food. Margherita pizza for the lady?”

Remaining silent, Wanda shrugged off her arms from her body. She allowed her hands to sit atop your shoulders, fingers exploring the bare area lovingly. Even without sight she could craft your body blindly, hands contorting to form you into a sculpture.

“Touch me,” she gave in. “please?”

You stared down at her stomach and all that met you were rolls sprawled across her midsection with stretch marks upon every inch of her skin: upon her breasts and along them, on her slightly swollen tummy you’d forever worship – you longed to kiss on her thighs that remained pushed together until you carefully pried them apart, and even by her hips which perfectly presented the markings. It felt alien to you. Staring at Wanda’s body, you wondered how she could ever describe herself as ugly when all that your eyes saw was excellence.

Without hesitation you carefully removed your underwear, garnering Wanda’s undying trust. She whimpered slightly when she saw your full nakedness, giving you the power to take off her own pair down her luscious legs. There was a golden Star of David which hung around her neck, one that she refused to take off ever since she was a child – her parents had given her one, another silver necklace for Pietro.

“Relax, baby,” you muttered towards her, leaning in to graze your lips against her chest. Kissing between the valley of her breasts, you allowed yourself to explore her entirely. “Thank you for trusting me.” you grabbed one of her hands, squeezing tight as you alternated between both soft mounds to place kisses on. “If at any point you want to stop, tell me. Don’t forget that, okay?”

“‘Kay,” she husked out. “Now get to it. I don’t like being teased, detka.”

“Impatient, how cute.”

Wanda was flushed against your body, her own reacting in the most adorable ways imaginable. Nipples stood hard and proud for you as your tongue swirled upon them. Leaving wet trails of saliva behind you, you made sure to give them both the similarly delicious treatment. While you lightly sucked on a hardened bud, the other was pinched and tugged lovingly.

“Fuck, that feels good,” Wanda moaned, back arching at the warm feeling she had never experienced in her life. A confusing wetness formed between her legs, aching as she rubbed her thighs together. “Oh Y/N…”

“Beautiful,” you said against the swell of her breast, kissing the stretch marks you found. “You’re a fucking goddess.”

Fingers began teasing her cunt, loving the dripping mess it had become for mere minutes of foreplay. Wanda adorably mewled in response. She wasn’t used to being so aroused, not even all by herself. Folds were parted as you traveled up and down her slit. When you so much as found her clit with a mere touch, she nearly lost it.

You dipped inside, unable to keep the desperation you felt to yourself. Wanda was hot against you. She wasn’t sure how to react, instead alternating between gripping the bed sheets and scratching at your skin. Slight tenderness caught her by surprise. Even in the times previous to having the children, Vis had never treated her in such a way. But then again, she couldn’t dare compare the two of you. Either way you’d come out on top.

The sole finger of yours twitched within Wanda’s velvety walls which hugged you tightly. It explored the unknown, coated entirely by slick juices and love. You sloshed it slightly, smirking against your lover’s skin as wet sounds filled your ears. She was an unbelievable mess, slightly tight given how tense she was – although after reassurances whispered hotly by her ear, the redhead found it in herself to take a deep breath and melt against the bed.

“I can take more,” she admitted. Her hips sloppily moved against your own slow thrusts, urging you to go faster. Never had she longed for someone so deeply. Wanda hugged you close with a newfound sense of confidence. Her lips found your own, kissing you hard with the utmost amount of love she silently threw your way. “Come on, b'shert. Give me all you got. I want it all,” she slid her tongue against your own, never daring to break eye-contact. “I. Want. You.”

It was enough to release the monster from deep inside. Although you refused to harm her, you slipped a second finger inside her hole, filling her cunt up with digits that urged to bring her to the brink of an orgasm.

“Yeah, that’s it. There’s my good baby.” Wanda’s nipples crept upon your skin. She met your own movements with phlegmatic ones, legs wrapping themselves around your midsection. “I don’t think I’ll last long, sweetheart. Oh honey!”

Surely the last time she dared receive such immense pleasure was beneath her. You curled your fingers deep inside Wanda once she had adjusted to them, thumb circling her clit. She fell apart in your arms that held her tight, swearing loudly in the three languages she knew for the entire borough to hear.

You let her relax for a few seconds, kissing her flushed face, mouthing only the sweetest compliments. “You did so well for me, Wanda. Such a good girl.”

Those words brought her a surge of happiness she had long wished to own. She couldn’t help but smile against you, eyes droopy with adoration as your fingers remained deep within her slick, puffy cunt.

Without a word you began drifting down. Her confusion was clear, but she refused to question you as you placed your kisses all over the rolls upon her stomach, the swollen tummy being adored without a hint of hatred.

Wanda let out a strangled sob as you casually flicked your tongue over her pussy. She had never experienced that, always the same monotone sex with Vision who didn’t dare venture down as you did. The feeling of your mouth upon her dripping slit was far too enjoyable for her to ever wish to let go.

“You taste amazing,” you told her, already drunk on her flavor. “So fucking good.”

That night you didn’t stop until Wanda was a slumped, ragged mess over the bed. She cried to be allowed to return the favor, but with her exhausted voice and heavy eyelids, you couldn’t ask for anything. Instead you picked her up and dragged her to the bathroom, cleaning her up, allowing her to rest against you as you changed the sheets, and kissing her forehead to sleep.

It wasn’t the first night you felt love for Wanda, but it would be the last you left it unspoken.

///

On the night of Christmas Eve, you swung around to save the day.

Vis had urged the twins to visit him on that day rather than Christmas, leaving the small children to agree upon the promise of candy and half of their gifts being opened a day early. Although Wanda disapproved, knowing it was her day with the boys, she didn’t dare fight it. After all, their joy over seeing their father couldn’t be dissuaded. Whatever issues she had with her ex-husband were between the two of them, never daring to involve Billy and Tommy who reeked with innocence.

To say she was surprised to find you throwing one of her windows open and jumping through it would be an understatement. She had settled on a date with her television and leftover chocolates she had laying around the house, perhaps some wine to tone down her sadness. The apartment was horribly quiet without two little menaces running around and begging to be fed nothing but greasy, fast-food.

“Sorry I’m late! I swear I must’ve swung across the whole fucking city just to get you these,” you exasperated, closing the window behind you as you shook off some snow from your covered body. “But I’m here!”

A break had to be taken from patrolling, instead letting the cops take over for a night as you and your newfound protégé, Miles who volunteered at M.I.L.E. alongside Peter’s aunt May, his mom having run for city council and won, a father who you once attempted to save but failed, also spent his Christmas Eve alongside family and friends. Eventually you’d tell Wanda about him, but not until you were sure he’d be a good fit – child endangerment was not something you took lightly.

Your girlfriend frowned at you, more importantly the object upon your hands. She rose from the couch and, to her dismay, ignored her floor being drenched with melted snow. She placed her wine down on the coffee table and walked towards you. “Are those…babka rolls?”

“Yeah! I tried recreating this recipe I found online, but then I got too carried away wrapping your gifts,” you used a hand to point behind you, backpack filled with gifts that overflowed. It was the perfect time to remove the warm beanie and earmuffs that shielded you from the cold, given how warm Wanda’s apartment was. “I nearly set the apartment on fire. Peter Googled a few places for me and, uh, I may have used my Spidey status to get this dude to make it for you.”

“What did it cost?”

“A selfie and video to send to his friends,” you mumbled. It wasn’t that you didn’t love taking pictures with the public, of course you did. But all that adorned your body was one of your old, beat up suits you merely carried around to cover yourself from the freezing weather. The fancier ones were saved for heroic work and better encounters with people. “Maybe an autograph too.”

You didn’t notice Wanda was in such close proximity until she urged you to drop the babka rolls on the coffee table beside her half-full glass of wine with silent hands.

“Take off your mask,” Wanda breathlessly ordered. You did as you were told, setting down the wrapped babka along with several horribly-adorned presents. When standing up straight, your mask off and thrown to the side, your girlfriend didn’t hesitate to lean in. Hands tenderly cupped your freezing cheeks, but she didn’t care. Having you close was good enough for Wanda. “I love you.”

Nothing could ever keep the thousand-watt smile from forming upon your face. You didn’t care that you were covered in snow, that your heavy boots Wanda had urged you to wear left wet trails as they stomped across her hardwood floors. All you could think about was her – pulling Wanda as close and ever to take her lips hostage.

“I love you too,” was all you said upon pulling away much to your disappointment. “Like, so fucking much. It’s kind of crazy how much I love you actually.”

“Hmm I’m glad, baby.”

Wanda nuzzled herself against you, ignoring the wetness from your suit and coat – she was glad to know you at least stuck to her pleas of keeping warm. She held you tight as though you’d leave by the following day, but until she told you otherwise, you’d spent all your waking time beside the woman you adored.

“So, uh, I brought a few DVDs,” you said. “I know it’s old fashioned, but I thought we could hook up the twins’ PlayStation in the living room’s television to watch Home Alone.”

“I would love that.” Wanda placed a kiss on your chest, most importantly over the spider crest that lay there. “My little spiderling. Please tell me you at least brought a change of clothes. Although you know I’ve been keeping extras just for you. And maybe Santa has brought you something for you to have here.”

“Yeah?”

“Maybe,” she teased. “Perhaps someday you won’t have to leave anymore. And we could make this…permanent.”

“I would love that.” Hugging her close, you promised to forever love and care for her, for her sanity, her children, and anything she desired. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” Wanda stooped up to kiss you again, this time lingering upon your freezing lips carrying nothing but amour and desire. “Now go take a shower, sweetheart. You smell like a sewer rat. Get yourself all warmed up. I need my cuddle buddy.”

“Anything for you, Dr. Maximoff.”

Without the kids she was miserable, but her misery turned to happiness with you by her side. Wanda was thrilled to not only fall asleep with you hugging her tight from behind, but also awake to find herself half on top of you, face nuzzled against your chest. Although she had never officially celebrated Christmas let alone for her children’s sake, she could surely get used to a very excited superhero tearing open gifts and flashing them towards her.

As you stared back at Wanda that morning, promising that your gifts were for her own celebrations and not Christmas, you noticed the similarities between the scarlet wrapping paper and her hair. It was then you realized that loving Wanda, holding her heart in your hands, would forever be red.

[misserabella]

sick love

perv! ellie williams x fem! reader

pt2

synopsis; you catch your best friend ellie touching herself and far from being embarrassed, it only turns her on even more. if only you knew she had been dreaming about this moment for her entire fucking life and that she has even planned for it to happen…

cw; really perv!ellie, dark themes, somnophilia (if you squint), breeding kink, mommy and daddy kink, praise kink, praising, degradation, multiple orgasms, oral sex (f receiving), sub and dom ellie for the first part but dominant on the end, p in v sex, cum eating, masturbation (ellie), voyeurism (?), dacryphilia, violence (not towards reader), dirty talking, slight stalking? (only if you really really squint), hair pulling, blood… MINORS DNI OR I’LL COME FOR YOU!

‘Use me. Use me...’

Ellie was obsessed with you. Not in a lovely kind of obsessed —that too— but in a really pervert way. Her sick infatuation commenced a warm summer, when you and her, best friends since freshman year, had ended up staying up late in your house for a movie night. Your parents were nowhere to be seen, and being scared of spending the night alone, you’d invited Ellie for a sleep over.

Everything was perfect. Little snacks, the newest film in tape and a cozy sofa in which the two of you silently rested as you stared at the tv. That was until you had fallen sleep on the other end of the sofa, loose and extremely short pijama pants letting your lace panties show and nipples erect due to the coldness of the night underneath your tight and white tank top. She found herself staring for far too long, instead of bringing up on your body the blanket that you both had been sharing, her eyes taking in just how beautifully exposed you were.

Full honesty? She didn’t even remember how her panties had gotten that fucking soaked nor how her hand had ended inside her pants, palm slick in precum as her fingers thrusted inside her slick cunt, bottom lip in between her teeth and soft moans and groans scaping her lips. But she didn’t care. She came so hard that night that she swore she saw stars on your living room’s ceiling.

After that, she of course felt awkward and embarrassed of herself around you. Masturbating to her sleeping best friend, and just mere inches away from you? Jesus Christ. Though that remorse quickly went away when she found herself sinking deeper in that sickness under your name.

She relished in that pretty tears of yours when you cried about another stupid boy being mean to you and dumping you against her neck, your tits fully pressed to her chest and whimpers making her pussy drool, even more when that same guys were the ones crying and begging for her to stop as she beat the shit out of them.

She liked to see you cry, but if it wasn’t because of her, she wouldn’t have it. She sent a couple of them to the ER, but they were too scared to get a couple more bones broken if they ever spoke up, so she always got away with it. In no time, the guys were fucking terrified of even glancing at you, leaving you all to herself. Like it had to be. You were hers, or you’ll be.

You were always complaining about things of yours disappearing, “Fuck! I cant found my chapstick.” her shrugging even when she knew that she was, in fact, the thug. Then, she’d go back to her house and open the last drawer of her desk — which she had under key— and take the same chapstick out of her pocket to push it inside along with the other things she had stolen from you: lipgloss, necklaces, bracelets… Panties.

She loved them. She almost had a collection of them, of all types; cotton, lace, thongs… She loved the ones that she stole from the dirty laundry the most, which’s crotch she would push against her nose and lick as she fucked herself. Getting to taste and smell your slick always drove her crazy.

Another thing Ellie loved to do was take photos of you. She had albums and albums of polaroids for the two of you, being both on the pictures or just you. She loved to watch them from time to time: you smiling, you singing, you dancing, you blowing a kiss to the camera, jumping in the pool, petting a stray cat… Being simply you.

But she also had some photos that were exceptionally and just for her. Some of them were flashes of your body in those little and pretty bikinis you always wore in the warm summers, some other of your naked body —facing away from the door of your bathroom— when you changed, you eating ice cream with cheeks, lips and tongue stained in the vanilla treat, some of you sleeping, some others of the panties and little skirts that you’d wear. She even had one of you resting asleep on her lap, lips parted and against her clothed cunt. She saved some of them on her wallet in case she ever had to take care of herself when she hung out with you.

She was in love with you. Sickly in love. Sickly enough to take some of those photos of yours and cut out your face just to tape them to her porn magazines. Some of the pages had even stuck together due to her cum.

And you were just so unbelievably oblivious of her infatuation that you always left the window to your room unlocked in case she ever wanted to sneak in in the middle of the night to stay with you if she ever felt lonely in her empty house. At first, before her infatuation appeared, she would sneak in from time to time when the loneliness became too strong for her to handle, cuddling with you and leaving first hour in the morning. Now? Now she snuck in almost every goddamn night. To cuddle, to watch you sleep, to be able to hold you close and even to take advantage of your heavy slumber. She had licked her cum out of your fingers when she had used your hand to masturbate, having to hold in her moans and whimpers. Other nights, she would get under your covers and part your thighs just to push her head in between them, face against your clothed cunt as her hips buckled against the duvet, tongue flattening against your heat and moaning when your thighs would unconsciously squish her head.

She loved it when you played with her hair, groaning when you’d pull from it when she’d tickle you, and laughing when you’d scream at her for using your good conditioner after a pool day. She was obsessed with your little lotions and expensive shampoos, smelling you on her skin to fuck herself while she showered in your house.

She would stole food from you in the cafeteria, using your own fork or spoons just to be able to have your spit in her mouth. You’d always whine about it, but she never stopped, so you eventually stopped caring, giving her full access to it when you were full.

Ellie considered herself to be a woman with clear tastes when it came to sexual preferences. She would love to fuck you to her liking, to sink you into submission and to get you to call her daddy. She thought of herself as a dominant kind of person rather than a submissive one, but that changed when in one of her numerous wet dreams it was you the one who choked her and fucked her, using her like you’d use a fucking toy. She had woken up with a raging orgasm as from her lips fell the word ‘mommy’.

Was she a pervert? Absolutely. Would she ever speak up about his feelings for you? Absolutely not.

She’d prefer to die with this feelings than ever telling you she loved you. She was just terrified of the thought of you pushing her away or ever hurting your friendship.

So after a day full of what she thought of ‘teasing’, since it always involved you dressing in one of those incredibly short skirts or staring at her for too long as you sucked on one of the lollipops that she always bought you, she would come to her house and enter her room with slick coating her thighs. She would pull out of the back of her closet her pussy-shaped toy and her strap and spray one of her pillows with those little bottles of your perfume that came as gifts with the bigger version just to bend her other one and push the fleshlight in it, fully lubed and ready for her cock to fuck into, just like that pretty pussy of yours. And that’s what she’d do, fuck her stupid little toy with her face fully buried on the perfumed one as she imagined you under her, ass up and chest pushed against her bedsheets. Her pace was needy, harsh and deep, the back of the strap bumping against her clit and from her mouth dirty talking spilling. ‘Yeah, take my cock you slut, fucking take it.’ ‘That’s a good girl for daddy.’ Those were always the best orgasms, making herself cum over and over again when she couldn’t found herself to stop. Too pussy drunk even when it wasn’t your pussy what she fucked in between whimpers.

She sometimes would leave her house’s and bedroom door open with the dream of you someday catching her red handed.

But they were all just dreams, they weren’t supposed to fucking happen in real life. Yet, there she was, and so were you.

That day she had come with a really painful ache in between her thighs. You’d been sitting on her lap for a whole goddamn hour since your classmates from class B had borrowed most of your chairs to hang prom signals, leaving you without a place to sit and using your best friend as a chair. The problem was not only that, it was the fact that you’d be adjusting every five minutes and the fact that she had found herself being completely ignored by you as you talked with your friends, laughing with them and jumping on her lap when the jokes were too good. Well, she was not being completely ignored, since one of your hands, had found her hair and slowly massaged her scalp, every now and then pulling at her hair when you played with her locks, her hands trembling on your thighs —which spread sideways across from hers— thumbs circling your soft skin.

The fact that you were using her. The fact that she felt used by you and only you, was what had her gritting her teeth and fighting the urge to buckle against your ass. But Ellie was a good girl, so she just stood sit and went through that delirious torture with not a word coming out of her mouth. She felt like breathing once again when you got up from her lap when the bell rang, notifying the students that the day had ended, but still choking when she no longer could smell your cologne or felt you flush against her.

“Fuck, y/n…” she whimpered when she plopped on her bed, her palm pushing hardly against her pulsing and aching cunt, precum staining her jeans and underwear. She had pulled out from her closet her fleshlight and strap, since she felt that her hand would not be enough today. She had to fuck herself. “Please, fuck me, please…” she was a babbling mess when the tip pushed inside the lubed toy and her clit rubbed against the strap. “Use my cock, baby… Use me…” she found himself whimpering at her mind scenario, in which you would ride her relentlessly, her dick reaching deep enough to hit that sweet spot that you’d torture to make yourself cum all over her cock. “Fuck, mommy, fuck, feels so good… Ah, faster.” she was a babbling mess, her hips rutting upwards against her hand movements to fuck her cock deeper in the toy.

“Els!!!” you had called from downstairs as you opened her unlocked front door. Ellie always left it that way for you to come and go as you pleased. You were smiling, in between your hands a copy of a film she had been dying to watch for months and for which she had cried after finding out that it had been banned and would never get to the town’s Film Store. After seeing just how badly she wanted it, you had been fighting with sharp nails to get a hold on one of the limited edition copies that had gone on sale in the city’s center, where you had rushed just as classes finished and where you had killed your savings in the dib. “I have a surprise for you!!” you chanted, locking the door behind you and jumping excitedly, frowning when you didn’t hear and answer from her. “Ellie?” you called out again, the soft sound of her voice reaching you from upstairs. You took off your shoes, a smirk growing on your lips when the idea of giving her a scare came to mind. Up the staircase, you were like a ghost, slowly approaching her room and mumbling, though you froze when a moan got to your ears. Your skin went pale and your cheeks heated up when needy whimpers followed up right after, as if all the blood under your skin had ended up pooling there.

“Fuck, just like that. Faster, please…” was she with someone? Your chest heaved at the thought of Ellie fucking with some random girl that wasn’t you. You’ve liked her for years on end, since the first time that she held you as you cried your heart out after your first breakup. But she never seemed to look at you in any other way that wasn’t friendly, so, in the end, —being too scared to speak up about your feelings in fear that it would break your friendship— you had decided to bury them as deep as you could inside you, believing that she had to be just what she was; your best friend.

Even though you knew it was wrong, you slowly approached her slightly open door, peeking in in need to see who was she fucking, promising yourself that you’d leave once you’ve taken a glance. But all that went to hell when you found out she was not fucking anyone but herself, back against the mattress, bare chest rising and lowering slowly as her hips fucked upwards, inside her pussy-shaped flesh light. Your eyes widened and your legs trembled when from her lips new groans and moans fell. Ellie was fucking touching herself, desperately rubbing her cunt against the strap, slick on her thighs. Fuck, fuck, fuck… You needed to get away from there. Yeah, that’s what you’d do. You’d go back to your house and forget all about it… Or that’s what you thought, instead finding your feet glued to the floor as you watched.

She looked so hot and pretty all needy… Eyes closed shut and mouth agape in gasps, eyebrows pushed together as her head fell back against her pillow, hair messy all over it. Her hand was slow, pushing the toy down on her cock in deep and harsh strokes. You could almost perfectly see just how long and thick it was, her thrusts making the lube’s wet sounds fill the room. “Ah, fuck…” her voice was low and so broken you felt your panties damp in your slick, you were so turned on that your free hand cupped your cunt, making you almost moan if you hadn’t bit down on your bottom lip.

Your fingers had started to push against the lace of your panties underneath your plaid skirt, freezing on your clit when a new babble came from inside the room and your best friend’s lips. “Fuck, y/n…, mommy…, please, fuck, fuck, fuck…” your eyes widened, not only because…, fuck, Ellie was fucking that goddamn fleshlight with you in mind doing so, but because she had called you mommy too. Surprisingly enough that only turned you on even more, a needy moan tearing your throat before you could push it down to your chest. Ellie’s movements stopped, her gaze moving to her opening door just to see you standing there, flushed cheeks, heavy breathing and tape in hand.

She quickly pushed away the toy, cursing under her breath when she sat up, a pillow hiding the strap, clit throbbing at the sight of your trembling legs. “Fuck, y/n, I…” she didn’t even know what to say. You had caught her, caught her fucking herself with her goddamn fleshlight, and even worse, caught her moaning your name. She felt sick to the stomach, but at the same, so turned on too. You had caught her… Finally. And who knows how much time you had been listening and peeking at her while she pleasured herself. She had to hold back a whimper at the thought of it. “How much did you hear?” she cursed when you didn’t answer, cheeks reddening and hole twitching under the pillow, leaking against her thigh.

“Mommy.” you said, making her head snap back to you, a frown on her face, eyes widening when you let the film fall from your hands as you stepped in, closer to her bed.

“W…What?” fuck.

“ ‘Mommy’. That’s what you called me.” you smirked, eyes falling to her lap when she pushed the pillow further down. “Who would think that you would be so goddamn dirty to even leave the door unlocked for anyone to see as you fuck yourself. And even worse, have a mommy kink.” she stuttered as she shook her head.

“It’s not what it seems like, I…”

“You what?” you pushed, thumb and index gripping her chin so her eyes would find yours. “Are you gonna deny that you were touching yourself while thinking about me? That you were calling me mommy and whimpering for me to fuck you faster?” she moaned at your words, half-lidded eyes full of lust staring at your full and rosy lips. “Mmh? Answer me.” you ordered and she whimpered, your pussy clenching when she shook her head and cried out a ‘no’. “ ‘No’ what?” your lips brushed against hers, teasing her to get out of her what you wanted.

“No, mommy.” you pulled her hair when she tried to kiss you, making her groan against your lips as you clicked your tongue. “Please…” she pleaded, hands rocking the pillow on her lap.

“Only good girls get a kiss, Els.”

“I’m a good girl…” she was so gone that you almost laughed, so needy for pussy…

“Oh yeah?” she nodded, her tongue dampening her lips, hips thrusting upwards towards the pillow that covered her almost naked body. “The why don’t you show me?” she shivered when your lips latched to her neck, your tongue pressing against her skin in open mouth kisses that led to her ear. “Why don’t you show me how good you are and let me watch you fuck that pretty toy of yours, hm?” she moaned, muttering a ‘fuck’ as she nodded, making you smirk. “Then go ahead, baby, let me see.” you pulled away as she pushed the pillow off her lap, pussy twitching and thighs soaked in slick.

In the state she was… She would do anything for you. She would even fuck herself stupid if you said the word. Anything you asked, anything you wanted. Anything for you.

She moaned when you sat down on her desk’s chair, skirt rolling up and letting more of your soft and beautiful thighs show. Her hands were shaking when her fingers gripped around the clear silicone or her toy, whimpering when she noticed your eyes on her strap.

It was big —if not massive—, with a great large and just the perfect girth, large and thick enough to have you limping for a few days after a good fuck. And you knew she could give it to you, that she would fuck your hard and needy, deep enough to have you drooling over yourself as you came over and over again. You would love to drool and choke on it too, outline the veins on the shaft with your tongue and take it so deep on your throat you’d whimper at the pain of your jaw. “Aw, poor Ellie…” you cooed at her. “Caught about to cum. It must really hurt, doesn’t it baby?” she nodded, tears on her eyes due to your teasing, chest rising in heavy breaths. “Are you gonna cum for me to drink, hm? Want me to drink your cum, Els?” she moaned a breathy gasp, and you smirked to her reaction. She liked that.

Dirty talking. Mommy kink. Praise kink. Notes taken.

“Yes, yes, yes…” she muttered, almost begging for it. The thought of you swallowing her cum making her go crazy. She whined when and tortured her bottom lip with her teeth when you parted your thighs, panties exposed and damped lace for her to see. “Fuck…” she cursed, bottoming out into the wetness of the fleshlight in a deep and large stroke, almost cumming at the sight. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.” your hands came down your body, your left resting on your breasts— hard nipples pushing against your shirt, which you pulled and pinched in between your fingers— and your right sneaking in between your thighs and below your underwear, whining when you felt just how wet you were. “Shit, y/n.”

Her pussy was drooling like crazy with every new and fast thrust of her hips, pleads falling off her lips with every brush against her clit. ‘I need you. Need you so bad, y/n…’ ‘Please mommy…’ ‘I’m gonna cum, i’m gonna cum…’

“Oh yeah? You gonna cum?” You clicked your tongue when she nodded, chuckling at her behavior. “Look at how pathetic you look.” she whimpered when you had made your way back to her side, standing in front of her and making her head fall backwards when you harshly pulled on her hair, making her hips stutter and breathy whines rip her throat. “Hold it. I haven’t told you to cum yet.” she cried when you pushed down your thighs your panties. “Fuck, you are too fucking loud.” you said and she had to squeeze the toy and stop her movements to not come when you pushed your damped panties into her mouth, slicked crotch flat against her tongue. Her muffled begging only made your pussy wetter, her eyes full of tears that seemed about to fall when she could take a taste on just how sweet you were. She choked on the lace when you startled her legs. Her eyes fell just as your free hand did, straight to your core, where your fingers dug on your wet folds and parted them for her to see, thin strips of slick connected them and just how swollen your little pink bud was, hidden under its hood. “Here. Cum on my pussy.” you said, leaning on the skin of her neck to suck a hard hickey on her flesh as you pushed aside her strap, exposing her swollen and reddish soaked pussy.

You didn’t even had to say it twice, her hand quickly throwing away the fleshlight to push you down on her and cum all over your folds and clit, muffled groans and moans filling the room when her white and heavy gropes painted your core in white, her mind all foggy and pussy drunk just by the simple contact of your cunt on hers. You hummed as you stroked her hair, open mouth kisses being splattered across her chest. She was still fucking horny. “Good girl…” you cooed, placing the strap back on top of her cunt, loving just how fucked out she seemed. She moaned when you sat on her cock, its length in between your wet folds and the tip bumping against your clit.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck….” she cried out with your panties on her mouth when you rocked your hips against hers. That’s all it took for her to cum for a second time, right after her first orgasm. You were gonna fuck her, shit, you were gonna fuck her cock…

You moaned, feeling her nails dig on your ass, your pussy sliding too easy against the silicone due to the amount of slick that coated it. “You came again, baby?” she nodded, moaning due to your humping, overstimulating her clit. “Fuck, Els…” you pulled your panties away from her mouth, wanting to hear her groans. “Look at you, making a mess of my cunt.” you were fucking soaked for her.

“Fuck, y/n…” your name sounded so wonderful falling from her lips… “Please, can I… Can I clean it for you? Let me clean it for you, pleasepleaseplease. I’ll make you feel good, I promise, I’ll be good…” you pulled her bottom lip with your thumb, warm skin under your fingertips. “I promise. I promise mommy…” your thumb brushed your own lips when she leaned in, pupils blown and need on her green thin irises. She looked high. And she was, high on her favorite drug: you.

You nodded, giving in, and gasped when she had your back pressed against the mattress in just a matter of seconds, lips all over the skin of your neck and exposed collarbones, her hands leaving your hips to bump against the bottom of your tank top, fingers so desperate to see your tits that dug too hard on the piece of clothing enough to tear it up. You moaned when you felt the fabric give out, her hands cupping your exposed breast and biting hickeys on its flesh in between groans, muttering a ‘The prettiest tits I’ve ever seen, fuck.’. You were tugging on her hair as she played with your tits, biting your nipples and teasing you for a couple of minutes before slowly lowering her lips further down on your stomach, bumping with your skirt, which she quickly discarded away on her bedroom floor. She pulled away to look to your fully naked body, hair messily spread on her pillow —the same she had fucked multiple times while thinking about you—, lips swollen due to constant biting, half-lidded eyes and flushed skin. She moaned, pussy aching, ‘cause you were so goddamn perfect. Perfect for her.

She didn’t waste time in parting your thighs —which she took her time with, and of course she would, she had been dreaming about making them bleed for years now—, leaving open mouth kisses and sucking hard on the skin, making you whimper and tug on her hair. “Ellie…” you whined when she bit down on your flesh, making your back arch at the incredible pleasure the pain inflicted made you feel. She was so drunk on your skin… She could spend her whole life kissing it that she would never get fucking tired of it. But her teasing was making your pussy clench and tingle. You needed her mouth on it now. And she seemed to get it when you pushed her further against it, her hands taking your now fully marked thighs to pull them above her shoulders as she sunk on the mattress, stomach flat against it and fingers gripping at your flesh. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head when her tongue pushed in between your covered in cum folds, flattening in a long strip and bumping against your clit. Both of you moaned, her due to just how much she had dreamed about the taste of your pussy —which she had tasted before, but only clothed— and you to how many times you had touched yourself with her mouth in mind. Her name falling off your lips on a whimper had her hips rocking against the duvet as she ate you out sweet and slow.

It was only when her fingers found their way to your entrance that she started to eat you just like you needed and she always dreamed of: rough, needy and hungry. You were screaming her name when her fingers pushed inside you, quickly fucking the shit out of you and curving to hit your g spot as her tongue circled your clit. It was just then when you understood the rumors that went around in your highschool about her mouth. Ellie knew how to use it, really well. So well that she had you tipping the edge in less than ten minutes. She was like a starved woman, burying her face in between your thighs unable to get enough of you and your sweet taste, of the mix of the two of you in her tongue. “Fuck, Els, I…” you babbled, thighs twitching as you pulled harder on her hair. She knew you were close by how moans fell of those pretty lips of yours over and over again. “I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna cum…” you cried out, Ellie crushing your sweet spot with every harsh thrust of his fingers.

She moaned, begging for it. “Please cum on my mouth, mommy. Please, let me have it, please mommy, please…” you whined when her tongue gave just one last stroke to your clit, dissolving in the hardest orgasm you’ve ever had, whimpers against your cunt as Ellie drank every last drop of it all, helping you ride out your orgasm as your sweet moans filled her bedroom.

You mewled when once you’d come down from your high, her tongue licking you clean as hips rutted on her wet sheets, seconds away from coming when you called for her. She whimpered when you tugged on her hair, pulling her away from your pussy as you sat up. She looked completely gone. Half-lidded eyes unfocused, messy hair due to your tugging, swollen lips and wet chin. “Please, just a little bit more, mommy…” she begged, needing to go back in between your thighs. Needing to taste you and make you cum again on her mouth. “Please, I need it…” your eyes fell to her strap, and then, to the dampness of the sheets where she had been rocking against. You clicked your tongue as you took it in your hand, making her bite down on her lips.

“I’ll let you choose where to cum next, Els.” you said, your other hand coming to her cheek to rub the flush on her skin. “I could let you eat me out again and let you cum all over the sheets all by yourself…” her hole twitched to the thought of it, feeling cold when the hand that cupped her face left her to fall in between your thighs, spreading you open for her to see. “Or you could cum inside of me.” her eyes rolled to the back of her head, hips thrusting into your hand in anticipation. “What do you say, Ellie? Where do you want to cum, baby?” she was almost hyperventilating, whimpers falling off her lips as she leaned on you, eyes on your own.

“Inside.” she found herself to mutter, unable to think, not when you were offering her the chance to fuck you raw and fill you up. Just the thought of it had her reeling. If only she could really cum inside, she’d make sure to do it over and over again until your belly would swell.

“Oh yeah?” you whispered against her lips, her nodding slightly, bewitched by your minty breath connecting with her own. “You wanna cum inside, hm? Gonna let me use your cock too?” you gave her a sweet smile when she moaned, furiously nodding. Leaving a little peck on the corner of her mouth, you fell backwards on your back once again. “Then come here, Els.” she was fast to top you, your thighs parting to receive her there, hands on her neck when she leaned in, eyes asking for permission to kiss you, which she didn’t even need since you were now entering your tongue in her mouth, making her groan. Fuck, she could come just with that. With your tongue in her mouth, your body against her and the thought that you were only letting her fuck you to seek your own release. She moaned on your open mouth when you took her dick to align it with your entrance. You needed her, and you needed her now. “Fuck, baby, please fuck me Ellie, please, please…” you whimpered, and she didn’t wait to push inside in a deep and fast stroke. You both moaned, foreheads against the other’s as she bottomed out.

“Fuck, so tight, mommy, so tight… Shit.” she was struggling to move at how hard your walls were swallowing her. Your head had fallen backwards in gasps, giving her full access to your neck, which she kissed and sucked, leaving new marks. She was so big you felt like splitting in half, but not in a painful way. Her stretch had you delirious, her tip brushing against that sweet spot that would make you come in a matter of seconds. Your nails dug on the skin of her back, making her groan. The two of you were taking your time, her letting you get used to the feeling of her heavy and big cock sitting inside your wet cunt, spreading you to edges you’d only dreamed of getting to. She groaned against your neck when you started to unconsciously rock against her. “Please y/n, can I fuck you now? Let me fuck you mommy, please? I need to… I need to…”

“Go ahead, baby. Be a good girl for me and let me use your cock, alright?” she whimpered at your words, and in less than one second she had you gripping to her back for dear life and losing yourself in between moans. “Oh fuck, yeah Ellie, just like that baby, shit, fuck me, fuck me…”

She was just feral. Thrusting in you with just cumming in mind. Her hips were pushing against yours in a hurry, hitting that spot inside of you that had you whimpering as you thrusted yourself on her cock, just as desperate as her. She was too pussy drunk to even kiss you straight, spit dripping down your chin at the messy made out. “Fuck, y/n, mommy, shit, so good, feels so good, fuck, I love it, love your pussy, ah shit, love you mommy, loveyouloveyouloveyou…” she was a mess. Both of you were. Her thrusts had you drooling on the pillow, back arched and eyes squeezed shut, too lost in the pleasure, in her. You could feel yourself getting closer and closer to your release with every new deep and harsh thrusts, making your nails dig up on her back, probably leaving marks.

“Fuck, Ellie, fuck, I’m close, shit, I’m gonna cum…” you whimpered on her ear, making her fuck you harder.

“Cum on my cock, mommy, please, please… Use me. Use me…” she begged, and then you could only feel yourself cumming over and over again. It was all too much, but too good at the same time. So good that had your soaked cunt gushing all over her dick as she fucked you dumb, her hands pulling on your nipples and teeth digging so hard on your neck that draw blood. You were seeing fucking stars in the ceiling.

The only thing that you seemed able to coherently form was her name, which you chanted like you sang your favorite summer song. “Ellie, Ellie, Ellie…”

“Shit, Imma cum, I’m cumming so fucking hard… Gonna fill your pussy mommy, gonna…, fuck!” her thrusts became sloppier. “Im gonna cum, i’mcummingi’mcummingi’mcumming.”hips thrusted one, two, three more times before she finally came. She was whimpering ‘mommy’ over and over again in between cries against your neck, thick gropes of cum painting the back of her strap and her thighs.

“Shit, fuck, Ellie. So good…” you moaned, rolling your hips at the feeling of fullness as she had stilled up to the base inside of your swollen and used cunt. You were fucked out, brain dead on the cock that had just gave the best sex of your life. You were trying really hard to come down from your high and calm down your breathing. “Ellie!” Though you really couldn’t even do that, since you found your head being hardly pushed against her pillows and back arched with your chest against the duvet when she pulled you up from your ass, her cock ramming inside of your soaked pussy. You cried out when her hand came down on one of your cheeks in a hard spank that had you whimpering.

“You didn’t think I was done with you, were you, ‘mommy’?” you could hear the teasing in her voice. “I’m sure you really enjoyed having your way with me, didn’t you?” you couldn’t really comprehend how her mentality had switched so drastically fast, but you were no one to whine about it. If a submissive Ellie had you cumming so hard on her cock, how would a dominant fuck you out? You felt your pussy clench around her dick in anticipation. “Well, I hope you did, ‘cause now is my fucking turn.”

-

a/n; I NEEDED TO OKAY? I NEEDED TO MAKE A SICK LOVE ELLIE VERSION SORRY!! 🩵

[avis-writeshq]

hi! could i request track one with spencer reid where reader gets drunk and needy for spencer 😭 but he denies (cuz yk shes drunk) and just takes care of him please? thank you!

off my face — spencer reid

summary: “i’m off my face in love with you.” in which reader gets drunk and spencer has to nurse her back to health. pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader genre: established relationship, fluff warnings: rated 16+ for allusions to smut, reader gets drunk, reader wears lipstick and a dress, mentions of throwing up [not in detail], spencer being sickeningly perfect, lots of pet names, inspired by that one video of matthew. you know which one i’m talking about. a/n: i er… got carried away because i love this trope 😔 i am in fact obsessed wc: 1.23k

It’s too loud. Granted, it’s a club; it’s supposed to be loud. Spencer cringes a little as the music somehow manages to get even louder and he sips at his coke. He has your purse in his lap and he’s also manning your drink like a guard dog; moving himself to the furthest seat in the booth that is away from the crowd. Your inevitable return is a lot sooner than he expected, and he watches with amusement as you slide into the booth and curl into his side, reaching for your drink. 

“Have fun?” Spencer asks with a soft laugh, one arm wrapping around your shoulders as he presses a kiss to the top of you head. 

“Mm,” you hum in affirmation, eagerly sipping at the sugary concoction in front of you. “Would’ve been funner with you, baby.”

He laughs louder at that, rolling his eyes teasingly and squeezing at the flesh of your waist. “You know it wouldn’t have been.”

“Bet you’d be real sexy with all that sweat dripping off you,” you coo, your voice sickeningly sweet as your fingers move to toy with the buttons of his shirt. 

Your fingers are wet with the condensation from the chilled glass of your cocktail and they brush against the sensitive skin of his collarbone. A shudder runs down his spine at the contact, and his cheeks grow hot. His hand finds your wrist and he holds it firmly, but not enough to hurt. 

“Don’t,” he says, half jokingly half seriously as he moves his head to track your gaze. “How much have you had to drink, angel?”

You ignore the question, moving your fingers upward to brush against a blooming purple mark near his collar. A pout rests on your lips as you gesture to it, a frown forming on your face. “Who gave this to you?”

He bristles, moving the flap of his collar to cover the bruise. “You did. This morning.”

“Oh yeah!” The smile returns to your face awfully fast and a giggle bubbles up from your throat. “You love me.”

“I do,” he agrees, kissing your head again. 

Your expression is all too gleeful as you move your head just at the right time so that he lips would meet yours. He pulls away after a brief moment, about to say something else, when you effectively cut him off by pressing a wet kiss to his cheek. 

“Angel– sweetheart, you’re very drunk,” he says gently, prying your needy fingers away and holding them firmly in his hand. 

“Nuh uh,” you deny, leaning forward again and kissing his neck right where you left a mark earlier that morning. 

He jolts at the contact, pulling away as pink rises to his cheeks. “We’re not doing this while you’re drunk, honey.”

You blatantly ignore him, maneuvering yourself so that you’s practically half on his lap with your arms wrapped loosely around his neck. He doesn’t mind the attention, per se. He just feels incredibly guilty about enjoying it when you’re loopy from all the cocktails you have had. You’re pressing kisses against his cheeks while your hands play with the collar of his shirt, tugging at the purple tie you chose earlier that day and there are lipstick stains all over his skin. He’s well aware of it; bright red with a sticky residue and he will forever not understand how you can wear it all the time. 

His tie has come undone entirely and you pull at his shirt to kiss dangerously close to his collarbone. 

“Okay–” he’s flushing scarlet and he doesn’t dare meet the eyes of anyone in the team. “Okay, baby, that’s enough. Let’s get you home.”

“Ooh,” you giggle, wiggling your eyebrows with insinuation.

“You need sleep.” He says it sternly, although you don’t seem to grasp the concept. 

“What kind of sleep?” You ask, winking. 

He shakes his head, amused and exasperated, as he rebuttons his shirt and reties his tie. “The REM kind. Come on, angel. Say good night to your friends.”

You giggle tiredly, waving goodbye to your friends. Penelope looks absolutely hammered, wiggling her eyebrows at you with an expression full of insinuation. Emily is smirking in your direction, swirling her martini around before taking a sip. JJ looks equally elated, snickering softly as she holds onto Will’s arm. 

Spencer ushers you gently into his car, leaning over the console to open the glove box on your side and brandishing a packet of micellar water wipes. He takes out two for himself before passing the rest of them to you.

“For your makeup,” he explains, wiping the lipstick marks off his cheeks. “I’ll help you with your skincare when we get home, alright?”

You’re in love. It isn’t long before he’s helping you up the stairs of his apartment and sitting you gently on the couch. Your eyes are droopy and it seems like the sugar high from your cocktails is wearing off. Spencer runs his fingers through your hair gently while he holds a glass of cold water to your lips, urging you to drink. You only do it to appease him and once he’s satisfied with your water intake, he’s reaching for the zip of your dress.

“Someone’s needy,” you coo, giggling as he pulls it down to just below your ribcage. “Gonna rough me up?”

“No.” He answers it swiftly, and had you been sober your heart would have split in two. He continues, “I’m going to put you in something more comfortable and then you’re going to sleep.”

“Boring.”

“No, it’s not– it’s not boring,” he flounders, his cheeks growing hotter at your words. He can’t believe he’s arguing with a drunk person. “It’s not boring, baby, it’s safe. Alcohol is a neuro inhibitor. There’s a reason why you can’t drink and drive and it’s because the brain’s neural activity patterns are suppressed or blocked. That’s also the reason why you can’t ask a drunk person for consent; they don’t know or understand what’s going on around them.”

You’ve half fallen asleep at his explanation, the sleeves of your dress falling down your arms and a shiver runs down your spine. “So we’re not going to be partaking in passionate steamy love making?”

“No, we’re not,” he confirms, pulling your favourite pair of cotton pyjamas over your head. It’s a pale pink set with little bows prints all over it and a lacy collar. “Lift your hips for me, angel, I need to get the shorts on you.”

You comply, kicking the dress off into some forbidden corner of the room and Spencer takes this chance to slip the matching shorts onto your legs and up your thighs. The rest of the night is smooth sailing from there– he has successfully applied your skincare in such a way that you would be singing his praises. He has also managed to get you to drink another cup of water, and even though you’re going to wake up complaining about the fact you need to pee. He’d rather you complain about that instead of some raging headache. 

Spencer climbs under the covers next to you, pulling you into his chest and kissing your shoulder. A soft snore leaves your lips and he can’t help but chuckle. Passed out, as expected. 

“Good night, angel,” he murmurs into your ear, holding you tight. “See you in the morning.”

reblogs are always appreciated !!

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[2knightt]

HII!! could you write the gang with a reader that has an rbf and seems really intimidating/unapproachable but is a sweetheart? they arent very talkative and seem very cold but their love language is acts of service/gift giving & sorta quality time?? <33

୧ ׅ𖥔 ۫ pretty as a vine, sweet as a grape. ⋄ 𓍯

…REQUESTED: you never judge a book by it’s cover. especially when it comes to y/n!

tags/warnings: people being judgy asf/spreading rumours, gang defending reader with their soul, reader is a softie i fear, reader is kinda shy, probably stupid:3c, steve threatening a manLMFAO

ೃauthor notes⁀➷ READER IS SO ME CODED HELLO also if two-bits part sounds stupid it ‘s because i’m high rn and even if can admit it’s a little iffy

—

dallas winston

thought of you as someone to be threatened by at first ngl

he heard of this scary, mean mugged, tuff looking girl and went ‘mh. an enemy🐺😒’

he went up to you one day, acting all tuff and shit just for you to look him up and down and nervously wave

look, he may not be the smartest cookie but he can see someone shy a mile away. and when he seen you wave, he felt like such an ass LMFAO

did he show it? no. obviously.

this is dallas. he’s an asshole.

“little miss tough girl, huh?”

“…pardon?”

that teasing from him DID continue until you walked away because dallas is the type to never back down, even when he’s wrong

expect for the next time you met him!!!!

he was actually asking you your name, where you’re from, etc, etc!!!

turning a new leaf dare i say…

and everything after that was history! cutest scary looking couple ever!

HE THINKS IT’S SOOO FUNNY THAT PEOPLE ARE SCARED OF YOU LMFAOOO

he plays into it sm if someone brings it up bro

“y/n? like..scary y/n?”

“yeah, like scary y/n. and i’ll get ‘er on ya if you keep talkin’ ‘bout her.”

“oh!😰”

he thinks it’s so silly to see you look really pissed off when he isn’t around just to greet you and see your whole demeanour change!!

dallas thinks it’s so cute😭 it’s like one of his favourite things about you!

“😠😒”

“hey, baby.”

“oh! hi, dal!<3”

LMFAO IMAGINE SOMEONE SEEING YOU, A MEAN LOOKING GIRL, SHOPPING FOR MENS LEATHER JACKETS

yuppp spoil that dickhead!😫 he lovelovelovesss getting gifts, ESPECIALLY from u!!!

if you’re clingy, i feel like he wouldn’t mind it. he teases THE FUCK out of u tho!😊

“big tough girl wants to hold hands, eh?”

“…yea😞.”

“awh, look at ya. come ‘ere.”

johnny cade

you might think he’d be scared and intimidated, right? but NO! he’s literally bff’s with ponyboy, he knows damn well what rbf is!

you two are sooo cute together

little kicked, scared puppy with his feral doberman!!!

tells people to stfu whenever they try and spread rumours that you’re scary, mean, and rude.

“you’re dating y/n? don’t you know she-“

“i don’t care, shut up. ‘s not like you know her😒.”

sometimes refuses your gifts.

johnny’s not used to them :( but all u gotta do is say please and flutter your lashes and u got em!!!!

“i can’t take it.”

“please?😞”

“…okay😣.”

and he DOES NOT regret it! he might fight you at first, but he cherishes those gifts with his life<3!

loveloveloveLOVESSS having u around constantly!! since your love language is quality time, you two are always hanging out together.

and, with your scary looks, you often keep the socs away from him!

hip-hip, hooray‼️‼️

the gang was like…worried for johnny at first.

THEY DIDN’T KNOW U WERE COOL THO😭😭💔💔💔

they were all like, “??seriously, johnny?? you pick the meanest girl?? ever???” and johnny was QUICK to defend. “y’all ain’t even meet her, and you’re already sayin’ she’s bad for me?”

when they did though, they were like ‘ohhhh….she really isn’t rude…..oh….’

HE’S SO PROUD TO DATE U THO LMFAOOO

and to know the real you?? treats it like an HONOUR

ponyboy curtis

was intimidated by you.

forgot he was also like you and accidentally glares at people who walk past him LMFAOOOO

You two are like two peas in a pod istg!!

“you look mean from far away,”

“???so do you, pony??”

“…no??”

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN, ‘NO’?”

mean looking couple who are truly just a bunch of nerds deep down to their soul<3

the gang was a little protective of ponyboy until they realized ur just like him LMFAO

They get having an rbf<3

pony loves spending time with you!

gift him a book and he’ll love you forever!!! (maybe even read it to you when you two are finally alone to help you fall asleep🤍)

he’s such a cutie…..

stays close to you in public because he thinks you’re scarier looking than anyone he’s ever met😊😊.

“cm’ere,”

“why?🤨”

“BECAUSE🙄!”

SCARY DOG Y/N IS REAL.

glares at anyone who goes around telling people that you’re mean and rude.

if looks could kill, they’d be dead already!!!

ponyboy does not fuck around with u i fear.

Sodapop Curtis

LMFAOOO GREEK GOD OF A MAN WITH HIS PISSED OFF GF WHO IS NERVOUSLY HOLDING HIS HAND !!!

he was NOT afraid of you!! in fact, he thought the rumours of you being an asshole were all fake

“you talkin’ about y/n?”

“yes, bro! they’re so rude-“

“how do you know?”

“well, i don’t-“

“so, shut up?😒”

cuz like??? did they not bother to understand you???

soda literally made it his mission to prove that you weren’t a dick!!😭😭

and GODDAMN HE WAS SO RIGHT

you’re such a sweetheart to soda! he lovesss telling people about how cute you are around him since it’s his own way to squash the rumours.

“my y/n is so sweet, you wouldn’t get it.”

“isn’t she the same girl who beat the soc to a pulp?”

“she can barely kill a fly.”

you don’t need to do much to scare off the girls that flirt with him at the DX, just a nice little glare every now and then and they’re already gone!

(soda doesn’t have to know that you play into the rumours sometimes. it’s our little secret.)

steve randle

HATES EVERYONE WHO TALKS ABOUT YOU

he’s petty AS FUCK LMFAOOO

they can’t handle the randle😜💯

“ew, y/n-“

“MAN, GET THE FUCK OUTTA MY FACE WITH THAT WHAT DO YOUUU KNOW ABOUT Y/N🗣️‼️”

that was an over exaggeration but you get the point.

gets very defensive when people try and ‘warn’ him about you lmfao

gift him a tool box and he’ll use it until it’s literally falling apart at the bolts<3

no seriously. it could be holding on by one screw and he’ll still use it. he doesn’t gaf. steve will use anything u give him.

he accepts ur rbf cause he thinks it’s SO FUNNY?? like he’ll see you far away with your friends looking all angry before one of them says a really funny joke and just watches your expression change so quickly

one of his fav things ever<3!

two-bit mathews

he makes so much jokes about it LMFAOOO

“jesus, y/n! you sure yer glare ain’t the thing that killed the dinosaurs?”

—

“swear i see the devil in yours eyes sometimes. it looks soooo good on you, though🤭🤭”

HE THINKS ITS SO ATTRACTIVE

and he lovesss your sweetheart side sm it’s like he gets best of both worlds

RAHH GIFT TWO-BIT MICKEY PLUSHIE OR ELSE

He’d totally have it on his bed 24/7. his sister has tried to steal it before to scare him btw.

skmetimes just to spend time together with him—you just go walking around town with him while he has an arm around your shoulder the whole time<3

[daycourtofficial]

Secrets, Secrets Are No Fun

Summary: based on this ask - Cassian has a secret about you and Azriel, and he accidentally lets it slip to you that the two of you are mates.

Pairing: Rhysand’s sister!reader x Azriel

Warnings: none? I don’t think.

“What do you know?”

Cassian drops his container of oatmeal, grumbling as he picks it up. He closes the cabinet to find you impossibly close to him, keeping him in place.

His surprise is all over his face as you roll your eyes and tell him, “you’ve been acting weird lately around me. You know something. Tell me.”

Not a request, but a demand. You might not be high lady, but as Rhysand’s little sister, you have mastered the commanding voice he uses to force others to yield to his demands.

“I don’t know anything,” he mumbles, trying to push past you. You don’t yield to him, keeping him trapped in front of one of the kitchen cabinets.

“You know something,” you simply repeat. “Something about me.”

“Not everything revolves around you, sweetheart.”

You sigh. Cassian wasn’t a great secret keeper if the secret was about himself, but if it was about someone else, he’d protect it with his life.

“Besides, even if I did know something about you, which I don’t,” he says, pushing you out of his way, “I wouldn’t tell you.”

He gets a few steps away from you when you exclaim, “I’ll tell Rhys about what really happened when you destroyed that building in Summer!”

He balks at you, a secret you came to discover on accident because Cassian was projecting his thoughts too loudly for you not to notice. As a daemati, you tried to keep your powers to yourself as much as possible, but some people, Cassian especially, think really loudly sometimes.

“You’re not even supposed to know that! You only do because you’re nosey and have freaky mind powers.”

You scoff, crossing your arms, “I could use my freaky mind powers right now to find out what you know.”

Cassian’s quick to reply, “if you do I’ll tell Rhys and you’ll be in trouble.”

“Tattle-tell.”

“Freaky mind girl.”

You two are staring each other down, neither of you budging when you gently caress Cassian’s mind with your talon in the way you know makes him cringe.

“Fine- fine! You’re Azriel’s mate - leave my mind alone!”

Your face quickly morphs into shock at Cassian’s words. Cassian slaps his hands over his mouth as if he could bring the words back.

“I didn’t say that.”

“Yes you did.”

Cassian’s eyes roam around the room, “I wasn’t talking to you.”

Your eyebrows raise at that, crossing your arms. “Then who you were talking to?”

Cassian pauses, then softly says, “myself?”

You narrow your eyes, “you, who are already mated to Nesta, are Azriel’s mate?”

Cassian shrugs, inching closer and closer to the door. “What can I say - the cauldron loves me?”

You give Cassian a pointed look, but continue with the lie. “Is he… is he disappointed that you’re his mate?”

Now that takes Cassian for a loop. He blinks a few times at your insecurity. You, who was just as confident as Cassian was, looking so small in this moment.

“Er- no. He’s not disappointed that I’m his mate.” Cassian steps closer to you, placing a hand on your shoulder, causing you to look up at him. “He’s excited, he just doesn’t know how to tell me.”

A smile graces your lips, searching Cassian’s eyes for any hint of a lie.

“Thanks, Cass. I hope you’re excited about it, too.”

Cassian snorts, “Nesta would be ecstatic if someone could take me off her hands every so often.”

Cassian leaves, not after giving your shoulder a gentle squeeze, leaving you alone with your thoughts and a plan begins to take root in your mind.

A few days later, every member of the inner circle is gathered at the table for family dinner. Tonight you’re seated next to Azriel, who hasn’t acted any differently towards you.

Your plan tonight will either confirm or deny Cassian’s words with little consequence if Cassian was wrong.

“Hang on everyone, I have a surprise.”

You leave the table and come back with a white cake. You place the cake on the table, pick up a knife, and start slicing the cake.

“Well, Azriel was out on a mission for his birthday because his boss sucks,” you throw a glance to your brother while sticking your tongue out, “so I made a cake for him so we could celebrate.”

You plate the slice, put a fork on the plate, and pass it to Azriel. The color has drained from his and Cassian’s faces, as they both look at the cake in front of the shadowsinger.

“It’s your favorite,” you say, with a sugary sweet smile. “I know we’re doing something this weekend for his birthday, but I thought I’d make this for tonight.”

You’re distributing other pieces around the table, the others unaware of the meaning behind Azriel and Cassian’s faces.

“I’m not very hungry,” Azriel says, “dinner was quite filling.”

Rhys looks at Azriel as he takes a bite of your cake, “I’ve never known you to decline dessert, especially not her cakes.”

All eyes are on Azriel, his notorious sweet tooth betraying him once again. He looks to Cassian for assistance, who has already finished his plate of cake.

He looks to you, a smirk adorning your features.

Oh. He thinks. You know. He looks again towards Cassian, who is avoiding eye contact with him at all costs.

Fucking traitor.

“Fine, fine.” If you can be stubborn and pigheaded, so can he. He picks up his fork, maintaining eye contact with you as he picks up cake on his fork. You look at him, your eyes piercing his soul. He can feel your emotions through the bond, and all he can feel is excitement.

You want him. You want him to take the bite, you want him to be the one to make things real.

He maintains eye contact as he brings the fork to his mouth, a millimeter from his lips he whispers, “you want this?”

The sight of your cake a second away from his lips, everything you’ve ever felt for Azriel, all leads you to nod your head imperceptibly. He takes the bite, savoring every second of the chocolate flavor.

His favorite flavor.

His stubborn, pigheaded mate did all this to nudge him. His beautiful, headstrong mate, both so much like his brother and so distinctly herself. The scent of the mating bond fills the room, and Rhys starts asking what’s happening, when Azriel lunges for you, wrapping you in his arms as he winnows the two of you away.

Cassian told you about the bond, and now he can tell everyone else about it as you and Azriel spend the next few days in a frenzy of clothes and mouths and love.

“You little minx,” he tells you as you two appear in a secluded cabin. You laugh before taking in your surroundings.

“Where are we?”

It was a quaint cabin, probably two or three bedrooms, and the two of you landed right in it’s living room.

“Well, when the bond snapped for me, I figured the last place you’d want to undergo the frenzy at would be in your brother’s home.”

You smirk at him, “and you just assumed I’d accept it?”

He looks at you, hope in his eyes and in your chest as you feel everything he feels now. “I had hoped. Cassian told me you’d be a fool not to.”

You smile, moving closer to him, “I would have been a fool not to want you.”

He wraps his arms around you, one hand tucking your hair behind your ear. “And I’d be a fool not to try to win your affections. I had a whole plan, you know.”

You gaze up at him, his lips looking incredibly inviting, but you focus on the words coming from them. “What was your plan?”

His thumb swipes across your jaw, “I was going to make you fall in love with me.”

You push your face forward, mere inches from his own, telling him, “I already was.”

His eyebrows raise in surprise, and you laugh. “Not a great spymaster, are you?”

It’s his turn to move forward, your lips a whisper apart. You can feel his breath as he tells you, “I couldn’t bear to know, one way or another, how you felt. So I pretended to love Mor, I knew she’d never return my affections, and I thought I’d be safe from the heartbreak.”

“But one day I woke up, and I decided that that was no way to live. So I dropped the act, and pretty soon afterwards the bond snapped.”

His smile falters for a second, before continuing. “I think - I think I had to feel deserving of you before the bond would snap. Not that I deserve you,” he corrects himself, his thumb trailing over your cheek, “but that I could be. That I could be enough for you.”

Doubt and insecurity swims in your chest, and you lightly tug the bond for the first time. It jolts him from his stupor, his grip on you tightening momentarily.

You look up at him, sending love and adoration down the bond. “Having you as a mate is enough for me. You are enough for me.”

He surges forward, his lips meeting yours. The kiss is warm, inviting, like coming home after a hard day. His hands on you feel right. He presses into you, both of you shoving love down the bond toward each other.

You’d have a nightmare to return home to, everyone already freaking out over Cassian’s news to them all. Their excitement for you two clashing with the absurdity of it all.

But that is for another time. Right now, you are enjoying learning everything about your mate’s body and teaching him about yours.

[the-californicationist]

Cali's Kinktober: Day 01

post cibum - "after a meal" - Kinktober Masterlist TF141 x f!reader Kinks > wet/messy, food play, objectification Full tags on AO3 - MDNI - Read at your own risk.

Your new job as a professional nyotaimori model pays all the bills and then some, but tonight, you are serving a group of soldiers who want more than just the novelty of eating fancy sushi rolls off of a naked woman. After they’ve had their fill of the nigiri and the rolls, they want you for dessert. 

“That’s fine, sir. We can do a seven o’clock tonight. Have you had a chance to choose your selections from the menu?”

You strained your ears as you listened to your maître d' consult with a customer over the phone. You were prepping in the adjoining room, going through your normal routine, but the growling, Manchester accent coming through the speaker was making it difficult to focus.  

“Yeah, give us a full spread. The works. No barriers.”

It must be a big party, you thought. The full spread option included a large array of sushi and sashimi. Asking for no barriers was quite adventurous, and you felt your skin flush with excitement. 

“Yes, sir. And would you like your artist bound or unbound?”

“Mm,” he thought for a minute, and you tried to send telepathic messages to the gruff stranger, “Let’s have ‘er tied down.”

Yes, you celebrated, already imagining the feel of the ropes crossing over the big, wooden table and pinning you to it, forcing you to stay in place all night long.

“And will you be including the sake option?”

“Yeah, sure. Johnny’s a bloody lush.”

Your heart began to race just imagining what sort of night you were in for. The sake option meant needing to shave your sensitive pussy completely bare, so you added that step to your process. Being a food model wasn’t something anyone seemed to take seriously, but you felt like a true artist, and you wanted your guests to have an unforgettable experience when they came to dine with you… on you. 

“Alright, sir, that’s –”

“And we want the additional package. I’ll pay extra. Whatever it costs. Just put it on the tab.”

“Yes, sir. Would you like A, B, or C?” 

The additional package? How did he know about that? You’d never performed for this man before – you would not have been able to forget that voice – and only your regulars knew about your secret options.

“A and B, but keep her mouth open, yeah? In case she gets hungry…”

His dark laugh made your blood burn in your veins. Your add-on package meant that he wanted to fill your holes while you lay on the table for him. Option A was for a large glass dildo in your pussy, warmed and heavy, option B was for a bulbous anal plug made of the same body-safe glass, and option C was for a rubber ball-gag in your mouth. But, he wanted to have access to you there, and that made you almost see stars when you thought about the implications. What did your mystery Manc have planned for you?

“Yes, sir. Do you know how many will be in your party tonight?”

“Four. The one with the mohawk is the birthday boy.”

“Thank you, sir. I will add that to the notes. Any allergies?”

“No.”

“And the name for the party?”

“Riley.”

“Thank you. See you later.”

When she hung up the phone, you listened to her boots clack against the marble floor as she came into your dressing room,

“Hey babes, here’s your ticket for tonight. Table of four. Bunch of soldiers. Sure you’re up for it?”

“Yeah,” you nodded, not feeling as confident as you sounded, “Just make sure to keep their drinks coming. They tip more when they’re drunk.”

You winked at her and she laughed, closing the door behind her to let you finish grooming and cleansing your body. 

Each swipe of your razor was another tantalizing part of your ritual. Once you were fully shaved, you cleaned your skin with special antibacterial soap before applying neutral oils that wouldn’t affect the taste of the food. No perfume, no deodorant. Those were the standards. You weren’t allowed to talk, or to move if you were bound by the tight ropes that pinned you to the table, and you were simply there to be a beautiful platter for the immaculately-made sushi. 

At more traditional restaurants, your position was revered, and guests were forbidden from interacting with you directly. You’d worked at a number of venues that hosted nyotaimori events, all with varying levels of standards and rules, but this one paid the most. This place allowed their guests to do almost anything they wanted, and those high risk situations added to the excitement and to your bank account. However, you’d never felt safer. There were cameras, guards, and highly trained staff all over the premises, and if you ever needed to press your emergency button, you could do so. You wore your panic ring at all times, and you’d used it effectively once or twice; it worked like a dream. 

But, you had to admit, it wasn’t just the money that kept you coming back here. You liked the clients. You liked feeling their hands and mouths eating off of your warm body. You enjoyed the more adventurous customers who wanted to taste you and touch you after they were done with their food. It was exhilarating, and you loved being at their mercy. 

Just before your call time, your attendant brought you your glass dildo and anal plug from the back. They had been sanitized, and you used a little lube to insert the familiar, rigid shape into your pussy. You felt yourself already wet from anticipation, and although the glass phallus was thick and heavy, you took it with a satisfying ease. 

The anal plug was another story. You used much more lube and began to play with your hole with your fingers before you committed to pressing it through your tight rim. The pressure from the fat dildo in your cunt made it even harder to accept, but after a few deep breaths, you felt your body relax and allow the round bulb to sit inside of your ass, pushing against all of the sensitive nerve endings inside of your stretched hole. 

You washed your hands thoroughly and cleansed your skin again, just to be sure. Eventually, you finished with your prep and walked through the hallways to lay on your long black table. It was a chabudai, a short table where guests would sit on mats on the floor, and the dining room where you served was dimly lit, very minimally decorated, and had instrumental music playing softly through the speakers. You looked up into the corner and saw the camera light go from red to green. It was showtime. 

Your attendant returned to perform your shibari. You were laying on your back, and she tied your wrists to your thighs, making sure to position your thumb so that you could press your panic ring easily. Then, she began to lay the ropes over your ribs, framing your breasts, using the ties to make them stand perky and proud on your chest. Finally, she fed the bindings under the table and fastened them down. You were stuck. You could bend your knees and twist your body, but that was about it. 

“All good, ma’am?” She asked.

You nodded,

“Yes, thank you. All good.”

“Alright. I’ll tell chef.”

She left you alone, and you tried your best to focus on your breathing. The dildo was nudging a very sensitive spot inside of you, and you pulsed against it, attempting to find some relief. But, you were just making it worse. Your clenching muscles were allowing it to thrust against you, and no amount of wiggling was going to grant you any reprieve. So, you stopped. You shut off your mind as much as you could, listening to the music and imagining an infinite, empty expanse in your head. 

The door clicked open and the sushi chef came in with his two other servers. They set to work, laying slabs of salmon and octopus sashimi across your breasts in a spiral pattern, using delicate roe to dust the inner circle over your hard nipples, making it look like the pollen-covered pistil of a flower, the fish serving as your beautiful petals. 

A row of maki trailed their way down your belly and each arm. More sashimi were laid on all the places where a roll wouldn’t sit, and one of the chef’s assistants began to place thinly-sliced mango across your neck like a choker. Your legs were covered in sushi and more fruit, and finally, right in the join of your legs, you balanced a bowl with a single lotus flower inside. 

The door cracked again, and your attendant poked her head in,

“Chef, your party is here. Should we send them in?”

The chef nodded, and everyone left the room. But, this time, the silence was deafening rather than zen. Your heart was pounding. You couldn’t wait to see and hear and feel what these four guests had in store for you. 

Finally, the door opened, and you heard their jovial laughter and talking. 

“Cannae believe you got a reservation, LT! Been dyin’ to try this for the longest.”

“I know, Johnny,” you recognized that deep, Manchester accent, “Won’t shut up about it.”

Johnny finally came into view. He peered down at you with a uniquely boyish wonder, staring at your face and your body like a kid at Christmas, eager to unwrap his presents. His friends surrounded him on both sides. You guessed that the wry blond was Simon, your vocal crush. You didn’t know the other two, but they were just as nice to look at. One of them was enormous, over-muscled with a bit of a belly, and an odd beard. The other was like a professional athlete, chiseled and masculine, with big brown eyes and dark, smooth skin. 

“Sure is a pretty plate, huh, lads?” The beard spoke with a growling, gravely Scouse accent. He was a smoker, that was for sure. 

“Fittest table I’ve ever seen,” the athlete smiled, his full lips revealing sharp, blinding teeth. 

“Please, have a seat, gentlemen,” your attendant put on her best sexy customer-service voice, “First round is on the house.”

“Oh, shit,” Johnny laughed.

He and his friends ordered an absurd amount of alcohol, and then you were left alone with your party. 

“Think we can get started?” Johnny asked, “Is that alright with you, bonnie?”

You watched out of the corner of your eye as the bearded one hit him lazily on the arm with the back of his hand, 

“She isn’t supposed to speak, MacTavish. Didn’t you fuckin’ listen, or is all the blood that’s meant to be in your brain stuck in your prick?”

“Here, Captain,” the athlete called the bearded one over, “Try this.”

You felt the soft wood of your restaurant’s polished chopsticks graze the side of your breast as he lifted a slab of salmon off of your skin. 

The captain grabbed the fish with his fingers clumsily, but he slurped it down, groaning with pleasure,

“Mm, that’s not bad, Gaz.”

Johnny reached out to you, his hands steady and sure, 

“Lemme try…”

You felt his warm thumb graze over the top of your nipple, pushing some of the fresh roe onto a cut of octopus, and as he curled the fish, he let it drag over the same spot he touched, purposefully teasing you. 

Once they started, they didn’t want to stop. Their hands were roaming all over you, picking up food and feasting on what you had to offer. 

“Look here,” Gaz commented, letting his fingers swipe up the side of your ribs, gathering up dark sauce and licking it off of his knuckle. 

“Oh, tha’ looks tasty,” Johnny smiled, leaning his head down and using his tongue to lick up the rest of the flavor, taking great pains to get as close to the side of your breast as he dared. 

They were getting braver, but you could tell they still weren’t sure what they were allowed to do.

Before long, your attendant was back, ready to get more drinks and appetizers for your men, and you listened to them politely dismiss her, too focused on their task at hand: uncovering you from your delicate morsels of sushi. 

“Mm,” Simon grunted, “Not bad, hm?”

“It’s proper tasty,” the captain agreed. 

“I’m so glad to hear you’re enjoying yourselves,” your attendant encouraged them, “Could I interest you in a sake presentation?”

“Wha’s tha?” Johnny asked with his mouth full, excited to know more. 

“Your artist has more than one talent, gentlemen,” she smiled coyly down at you, kneeling beside the table, carefully removing the bowl from where it was so carefully perched on your pussy. 

The whole room stood still as your smooth, oiled vulva was revealed. Your attendant leaned over you, pouring warm sake into the divot between your closed legs and your mons, filling the space with drink. She made sure the men were looking at her with rapt attention, and she bent to suck the alcohol from your body, her mouth sucking right below your clit, slurping up the delicious sake until it was almost gone. 

“Creepin’ Jesus,” Johnny said under his breath, “Can I do one, lass?”

“Yes, sir,” she smiled, “Of course! You can do anything you like.”

“Anything…”

Johnny’s eyes watched as she filled the crevice between your legs again, letting the sparkling fluid pool and ripple against your skin. Then, when she was done with her pour, he bent to drink from you, putting his mouth exactly where hers had been, gulping and swallowing the sweet brew, his eyes fixed on your pretty pussy until you were empty. Then, he stole a lick, shoving his tongue between your lips to tease your clit, testing the limits of what was allowed, trying to find the boundary. 

“I’ll leave the bottle, yes?” Your attendant asked, leaving it on the table without waiting for an answer. 

“Thanks, love,” the captain smiled, watching his friend hovering over your wet quim as Johnny considered going back between your legs for seconds.  

“Go on, then, Sergeant,” Simon encouraged him, “For what I fuckin’ paid, you better enjoy it.”

That was the only permission the mohawked birthday boy needed. He sank his hot mouth down onto your pussy and began to suckle at your clit like it was part of his meal. He laved his tongue inside of your swollen lips, licking you in rhythmic, rolling thrusts. 

You tried your best to control your reactions, but there was only so much you could do to contain your pleasure. Gaz noticed when your eyes rolled back in your head, your lashes fluttering closed as you tried to breathe through the feeling. 

“Delicious, aren’t ya, babe?” 

He bent his head to your breast, feasting on the two pieces of sashimi that were left behind, using his tongue to pull them into his mouth. You could feel the warmth of his full lips on your skin as he ate from you, and every little touch was electrified by Johnny’s feast between your legs. 

As Gaz chewed on his bite, he used his thick finger to scoop up the fresh roe that remained on the peak of your nipple. Then, he bent over you, smiling like a demon, 

“Open up.”

You obeyed, and you melted into your submission. The hard, unflinching stare from those big brown eyes was enough to crush your will to dust. You felt your skin flush across your whole body as you surrendered to him, as if allowing him to control you made you even more sensitive to the touching, licking, kissing, and groping that was happening to you.

He slipped his finger past your lips, placing the roe carefully on your tongue. You felt the tiny eggs spill into your lips like beads. Just when you were about to swallow them, he grabbed your chin in his hand sharply, his face turning darkly serious,

“Hey, open, I said. There’s a good girl. Stick that pretty tongue out for me. Say ahh, pretty girl.”

You did as you were told, and to your shock, he bent his mouth over yours and spit into your throat. You could feel the bubbling drool pooling in your cheeks and sliding to the back of your tongue, but there was nothing you could do about it. His lips turned up into that same dirty smirk as he said, 

“Swallow.”

You took the roe into your mouth and swallowed it along with his saliva, the salt of the fish eggs mixing with the salt and alcoholic tinge in his spit. He must’ve been drinking at the bar before his party sat down at your table because the herbal scent of gin was unmistakable. 

He pet your cheek with the back of his hand, praising you with his touch, watching your face twist with pleasure as Johnny became almost uncontrollable between your legs. The mohawked man was sucking so hard on your clit that the slurping sounds from his mouth were filling the room. 

Gaz bent to kiss you, and you kissed him back. The softness of his lips lulled you into an even deeper sub state, and you felt like you were melting. Suddenly, he forced his tongue into your mouth and wrapped a huge palm around your jaw, holding you in place as he began to slide his slippery muscle in and out of your cheeks. It was as if he was fucking your throat with his tongue, and your mind fed you an imaginary scene of how his cock might feel in its place. 

When he pulled away, you felt Johnny stop his kisses as well, and your body writhed without your consent, desperate to feel them tasting you again. 

“This is the best fuckin’ birthday I’ve ever had,” Johnny smiled, wiping a hand across his shining mouth. 

The man who’d made the booking, Simon, sat beside his friend and pointed between your legs,

“Pour us one, Johnny.” 

“Aye. Here ya go, lads. Slàinte mhath.”

You watched as he poured sake into the divot between your legs again, but he over-indulged. He began to pour it across your belly as well, letting it pool in your belly button and settle in the dip of your sternum. 

The captain was the first to take a sip. He lapped at the pool of sake that splattered across your mons and lips like a hound, aiming to taste you more than he was the alcohol. Then, he followed Johnny’s trail, dragging his hot tongue along the swell of your tummy, aiming for the well of spirits in your belly button. He hovered over it when he found it, and as he leaned down to drink from you, you could feel the tickle of his mustache, making you squirm.

His filthy, gravelly chuckle made your blood run cold. It seemed that he enjoyed forcing your body to respond to his touch. 

“Ticklish, love?” He returned to your lower belly, letting the bristles of his beard tease you until your breathing became ragged, your lungs trying to suck in, doing your best to pull away from him and yet not being able to escape. 

Your tormentor shoved Gaz around the table so that he could tease your breast with his bearded mouth, and Gaz followed suit, both of them fighting for the puddle of sake between your breasts before suckling on your tight nipples. They had such different agendas. Where Gaz seemed to suck because he wanted to see you squirming from pleasure, the captain seemed hell-bent on keeping you from it. 

You could feel him biting into your delicate flesh with his sharp teeth, causing just enough pain to pull you out of your relaxed, pleasure-induced haze. Then, when he could see your eyes flash with just a hint of apprehension, he would retreat, rewarding your responsiveness with a long, deep suck or hungry, flat licks with his tongue, a barely-there smile twisting across his cheeks as he did. 

You felt something brush against your leg, and Simon was using a napkin from the table to wipe the rest of the food off of your legs, not giving a shit about the hundreds of pounds worth of sushi being gathered up in the cloth. Dinner, apparently, was over. 

Your mind raced. This was far and beyond the bravest party you’d ever served before. They worked on you as a team, giving each other silent feedback, and when Simon finally bent to drink from between your legs, your mind was throbbing from the overstimulation. 

You weren’t supposed to, but you began to let long, cracking moans escape from your throat. Anything you did to hold them back was just making them worse, and your voice only seemed to spur these men to double down on their efforts. 

Simon did not eat you like Johnny did. His Scottish companion ate you out like you were the food, but the Manc was more like his captain. He wanted to see where your buttons were, and when he found them, he began to press them just like a lad playing with a shiny new toy. 

His tongue found the body of your clit and swirled around it, avoiding the searing head, swollen and sensitive to the point of discomfort. Instead, he pushed the tip of his tongue just below it, lifting it up, making the hood stretch just enough to apply its pressure. 

You bucked your hips, the sake that rested in your thighs sloshing out, ignored by your new master. He didn’t give you a smug grin like his bearded boss. In fact, you could barely tell what emotion he was feeling. It wasn’t until you met his gaze that you noticed the fire behind his eyes. 

Only then did he begin to drink from you, emptying the alcohol from your body, letting his tongue venture down into the crevice of your thighs and licking between them as if they were your cunt. He had gone deep enough to feel the edge of your dildo, and when he found it, he turned to the others, getting their attention,

“Had them do something special for Johnny. Wanna see your surprise?”

Johnny had been busy sharing a nipple with Gaz, leaving hungry little hickies across your skin. But, when Simon called him over, he seemed all too eager to return between your legs.

“Aye,” he smiled rakishly, “Gonnae spoil me, Si.”

All four men shifted to the foot of the table, their eyes wide and focused on you like hyenas with a wounded gazelle, selfish and ready for their next taste of you.

Simon took your legs and lifted them up, bending your thighs at the hip, showing the others how two fat, glass dildos were shoved deep inside of your holes. 

“Oh, bonnie…” Johnny reached forward, grabbing the dildo stuck in your pussy gently between his fingers and giving it just the slightest twist, “For me? Such a good lass, innit she?”

Simon reached down below Johnny’s hand and began to tug at the anal plug. The resistance was driving you mad. You tried to relax, but he was not waiting on you, and the pressure began to build and build until finally, your muscle relented and you felt the heavy bulb slip wetly out of your asshole, soaking in lube.

“Bloody hell,” Gaz murmured, not wasting any time, sticking a long finger into the gaping hole left behind by the plug, testing the stretch of your ass with his strong hands. 

Simon pressed it back in, forcing Gaz away, slowly fucking the heavy toy back into you, letting it sink inside of your body with a sloppy pop, pushing on it just a little harder than he needed to so that it would feel like it was thrusting inside of you. 

Then, Johnny did the same with the dildo in your swollen pussy. He didn’t pull it all the way out, choosing instead to fuck you with it, shoving it into your hole with wet, slicking sounds, marvelling at the sight. 

You were so drunk from the pleasure that you hadn’t noticed their captain sneaking around to the head of the table. He startled you, grabbing you beneath your arms and yanking you and your ropes up, strong enough to move you even though you were tied down. He had pulled you far enough that your head hung off the edge, and you found yourself staring at his black slacks, amazed at the thickness of his thighs. Then, you watched him roll down his zipper, stroking his cock until it gleamed with his precome. 

You felt his other hand supporting the back of your head, holding you at just the angle he wanted. Then, he purred his command to you,

“Let me in, pretty girl.”

You allowed your muscles to weaken, opening you mouth wide, unsure if you could pry your mouth open enough for his girth to fit inside of you. He chuckled in that same, devilish way, slapping his sticky head against your lips twice before feeding his head into your cheeks, settling at the back of your throat, letting you gag and cough around him all you wanted and doing fuck-all about it. 

Between your legs, you felt the dildo slip out of your pussy, replaced with eager fingers and a tongue. Now that you had the captain’s thick cock to block your noises, you let yourself whine against him like a gag, moaning and crying out from the overwhelming feeling of being used. 

“Oh, fuck. That’s it, lads,” he grunted, “Make her scream for me.”

Both of his hands were cradling your head as he fucked your throat, guiding his fat dick in and out of you like a piston. You breathed when you could, but it was only just enough, and you felt yourself going light-headed. 

A mouth found your nipple again, and a hand rolled itself beside your clit, making frantic circles from above. Then, below your thighs, a round prodding cockhead pressed its way into your lubricated walls, making your dildo seem like nothing more than a thick finger or two. You were being well-stretched, and your body flooded your cunt with wetness to try and ease his way, doing everything it could to make it easier for whoever it was to fit his prick into your warm body.

He rested your ankles against his neck, and your bare feet scraped the side of his head. Buzzed hair. It was the birthday boy afterall. 

“Mmmph, fuckin’ hell, bonnie. Too tight. Too goddamn tight. Fuck…”

As he pumped himself into you, his movements made free and fast by the lube and your dripping cunt, your whole body began to jerk across the table. These men weren’t just large; they were stronger than you could’ve ever imagined, and you felt like you were nothing more than a mere toy to them. 

The fingers teasing your clit were sending your mind into a panicked orgasm, and your whole body convulsed as you let yourself tumble into the swirling madness of your bliss, your eyes wrenched shut and flashes of rainbow light dancing across them as you came violently. 

Apparently, that was enough to send the captain over his edge because as you were trapped in the throes of your orgasm, he shoved himself all the way inside of you and began to pulse hot shots of his come into your belly. You were desperate for air, but there was nothing you could do. They were in control of you, and you were ashamed by how much you enjoyed being at their mercy. 

“Ohhh, Cap’n. She loves tha’, dontcha, lass?”

“Knew she would,” the captain slipped out of your throat, smiling down at you as you gasped wetly for a breath, “Filthy little slag.”

You watched as he shifted to the side of you, his thighs leaving your line of sight, being immediately replaced by a pair of dark jeans. You knew it was Gaz when his wide thumb reached down to wipe the drool and come from your lips, lovingly cleaning up after his captain’s mess. 

“Being so good for us. Still hungry, baby?”

You couldn’t answer him, but he didn’t care. He tugged his long, curved rod out of his pants and let his balls rest on your mouth. You started to suckle on one of them, taking it into your mouth and letting it roll between your lips.

“Yeah, she is. Mmff-fuck, tha’s it.”

Gaz lifted your head up with his hand to help you reach, stroking his huge shaft with the other, jerking off as you did your best to pleasure him, trying to be careful with his sensitive sack. 

Johnny’s thrusts became frantic. Simon and his captain were taking turns pouring sake across your belly and sucking it off of you, and you were dizzy from the feeling of being fucked with your heavy plug inside of you. When you began to come again, it hit you slowly, building and building in waves, making you tremble from the suffocating joy of it. 

You cried out, and your mouth was open wide in a silent oh. Gaz took the chance to feed you his cockhead, giving you something to scream around. You felt Johnny pause deep inside of you, his cock nestled as close to your womb as he could get, and he began to fill you with his come, shamelessly bending himself over you to fit his rod down to its root in your wetness. 

“Christ, bonnie! Come for me. Fuck, fuck, fuck! Hnngh…” 

He slid himself out of you, but almost immediately, someone filled your empty hole with your dildo, keeping his load sealed safe inside. 

Gaz was still jerking his cock as he rested his tip inside your mouth, and you could feel him shuddering above you, his fingers twisted and tugging at the base of your scalp. 

“Suck on me harder. Yesss,” he groaned, “Just like that… mmfgh. Good… girl…” 

You felt him throbbing, pulsing, and ready to come. Then, just when you were ready to taste him, he pulled out and painted your mouth, chin, and neck white with his seed. There was so much of it, and whatever your tongue could reach, you licked it up, sucking him clean when he let you have the tip one more time before he smeared the remnants of his dripping cream across your cheek. 

Suddenly, Gaz’s hands returned to the back of your head and lifted it up. At the same time, another man yanked your whole body back down the table, making the wood creak from the stress. Now, you could see what was happening to you. 

Simon was holding your thighs, playing with your pussy, making sure your dildo was nice and snug. Then, he removed your anal plug again, twisting it out with a steady tug. When you made a whimpering cry, he looked up at you, and you saw that same light in his gaze, a hunger unlike that of his other friends. Something uncanny and secret about his message that you failed to decode. 

He began to pry open your asshole with his fingers, exploring just past the rim. First, it was just one, but then it was two. They twisted, curling inside of you, plunging deeper and deeper and testing how pliant you were. Your plug was pretty large, so you weren’t usually concerned about a man’s cock being a challenge. But, the way he was preparing your hole made your whole body tense with anticipation, worried about what was going to happen to you. 

You watched him rest your heels on his shoulder, just like his friend had done, and his tattooed hand held your thighs as the other placed his swollen head at the rim of your asshole, teasing it, barely even touching you. 

You thought he would plunge inside, but he never did. He just kept painting little warm circles around you, pressing on the outside yet never allowing himself to slip into your ass. 

“Mngh…” You whined, twisting your hips as much as you could, begging for it. 

“What’s that? Speak up, love. Can’t hear ya.”

You looked at him with pleading eyes, knowing you weren’t allowed to break your ceremonial rule but desperate just the same. He let himself smile softly down at you, planting his head at your hole and using the weight of his cock to rest it there. 

“C’mon, sweetheart. Tell me you want it. It’ll be our little secret.”

His friends were kneeling around you, spent but still groping your body, licking and kissing you lazily, enjoying watching Simon torment you.

“She doesnae wanna break the rules, Si. Good lass tha’ she is,” Johnny cooed, letting his fingers rest on either side of your clit, drawing deep ovals and watching your face twist in desperation.

“Let him hear it, love. We won’t tell,” the captain whispered in your ear, using his fingers to slide Gaz’s come from your chin into your mouth, making you taste his salty seed. He kept his fingers inside of your lips, pushing them all the way to the back of your throat, letting you suck on them, “Tha’s right. Our perfect little slut.”

Your mind went blank, and all you could focus on was the feeling of relief that would come to you if you just broke your rule…

The captain removed his hand, returning to your tits to suck on them and pinch your nipples. Then, Simon pressed forward just a little more, giving you his head before immediately taking it away, leaving you hollow.

“... please…” You whispered, your voice so shallow and small. 

“What? Cannae hear you, bonnie,” the Scot smiled, moving his hand faster between your pussy lips. 

“I think I heard something, did you?” Gaz joked, raising his eyebrows at Simon, smacking your ass cheek with the palm of his hand. 

“Say it,” Simon growled. 

His team was all smiles, but he was dead on. You locked eyes with him and said it again.

“Please.”

“Fuck,” Simon’s eyes rolled back in his head, the whites peeking through his long lashes, and he sank himself deep into your asshole in one punishing thrust. 

He was as thick as your plug, but he was so much longer, and you had never felt so stretched out in your whole life. As he began to fuck you, he wrapped his hand around the dildo in your pussy, covered in come and lube, and he fucked you in time with his own prick, making it seem like he was in both places at once. 

“You ready for more?” Simon asked you breathlessly, checking in with you. 

You nodded, fuck-drunk but just as submissive as ever. Whatever he asked for, you were ready to give it to him. 

When he saw your shallow nods, he began to fuck you at an incredible pace. Your whole body was shuddering every time he slammed himself forward, and the strength of his thrusts was making you feel like his cock was even bigger than you thought, your poor asshole stretched past the point of comfort. 

“She’s takin’ it so good, Si,” Johnny sighed, watching your face go slack as his friend railed himself into you.

You weren’t even moaning. You were barely breathing. Your mind only had one goal: making you come and come and come. 

“Spread her legs,” Simon commanded his team. 

You heard the schnick of a knife’s blade being unsheathed, and then the ropes around your ankles were sliced away. Gaz and Johnny pulled your knees up to your chest, forcing you open for him like a book. 

Johnny bent down over your pussy and spat onto your slit, smearing it with his fingers. Then, he slapped you gently a few times, increasing the pain each time his hand came down until you were literally screaming from it. But, it didn’t hurt. It just made you come even harder. The pleasure was muting the pain to an incredible degree. You wanted him to give you more, but you were too far gone to ask. 

The captain was kissing your mouth, using his hands to feed you come again, and you couldn’t even kiss him back. Your body was frozen, your muscles tight and stuck in a loop of pleasure. You were coming in cyclical waves, unsure of where one started or ended, just suspended in blissful torment, sucking in breaths when your lungs allowed you to. 

Then, Simon’s movements stuttered, and he slowed, sinking into you as deep as he could fit before pulling out in one swift movement and jerking his cock right in front of your swollen, punished pussy.

He slid the dildo out of you, leaving you feeling empty to the point of grief, and you watched as he hovered at your entrance, shooting his load into your already-filled cunt. Rope after rope of milky come seared its way into you, messy but accurate. Then, he replaced the dildo and sat back on his heels, out of breath. 

His friends let your legs back down, and they all moved away from you, leaving little kisses on your body as they retreated. 

Once they recovered, they had one more shot of sake together, and Johnny poured one into your mouth. 

“There ya go, bonnie. Job well done, aye? This birthday party willnae be topped anytime soon.”

You swallowed the shot, tasting just not the alcohol but the remnants of Gaz’s come as well when it slid down your throat in tandem. 

“Don’t worry, pretty girl,” the captain said, “You don’t have to say your goodbyes yet.”

Simon peered down at you over his shoulder,

“Riverbend street, apartment six, right?”

Your eyes went wide. How did he know where you lived? 

But, before you could ask him, they let themselves out, leaving you stunned, full of their come, and thrilled about what you would find when you finally made it home tonight.

[giuseppe-yuki]

Since franco is quite unhinged and not PR trained, I feel like his girlfriend would be equally as unhinged and unpredictable like an orange cat constantly doing stupid things like climbing on stupid things and doing funny stuff around the paddock and becoming a fan favourite duo of unpredictable and hilarious behaviour - especially in the fan zone

FRANCO’S POOR PR MANAGER!!!!!

picture credits from pinterest :)

franco colapinto x orange cat shapeshifter!reader

“franco,” the disheveled looking woman snaps, a look of pure annoyance on her face. “tell your fucking cat to get down from those spare tires right now!

rolling his eyes, franco stops his laughter from looking at you prancing on tires and beckons you over.

leaping off the tower of rubber tires, you scamper over to his side, butting your head playfully against his leg. you couldn’t understand why you couldn’t have a little fun in the paddock though. it was media day, and those were soooo boring. his pr manager was a total killjoy. and besides, the fans loved you, so wouldn’t that be good for your boyfriend’s public image?

as if proving your point, the fans gathered around the fanzone squeal as you pad next to franco and his disgruntled pr manager.

while he stops momentarily to sign a few pieces of merch, you claw your way up his shoulder. the man getting his merch signed laughs, pointing his camera at your purring figure perched on franco.

“yeah, sorry, she does that sometimes,” you boyfriend remarks, recapping the pen and handing it back to the fan.

you grin at him, flashing your sharp cat canines at the camera. suddenly, an epic thought crosses your mind. what if you did a backflip off of franco’s shoulder and landed on the ground perfectly? that would be kind of cool.

gathering your wits, you leap off of your boyfriend and do two flips in the air before landing gently on your four paws. the fans in the fanzone erupt into cheers.

“ha!” your boyfriend laughs, pointing at you proudly leaping in circles on the ground. “simone biles who? make way for next big olympic gymnast!”

seeing the commotion, franco’s pr manager speeds over. “franco!” she hisses, dragging him away from the crowd. “you can not be saying that! we don’t want a bad public image from you slandering simone biles!”

“slandering???” franco says, in shock. “i was not slandering. i was merely making a comparison between her and my extraordinarily talented cat!”

you meow loudly, as if backing him up.

franco’s pr manager just pinches her nose and groans.

it’s not even ten minutes before you accidentally get yourself into trouble again.

a young fan sits on the sidewalk, talking animatedly to his mother, leaving his lunch open and inviting. hey, if he didn't want it, you’d gladly take it. you were pretty much starving after spending a good part of the day doing media duties with franco.

charging towards the open container, you take a huge bite of the contents, which turns out to be lasagna.

the boy turns around, eyes wide at seeing not only the orange cat eating his food, but also at franco colapinto jogging towards him.

“i-i-is this your cat?” he stutters out, blinking quickly at the sight in front of him, disbelieving.

“er, yes,” franco responds. scooting by the kid, he bends down and grabs you by the scruff of your neck, trying his best to separate you from the container of lasagna that you were trying your best to shove into your mouth at an ungodly speed.

the boy, seeing your actions, laughs. “she’s just like garfield!”

your boyfriend only successfully removes you from the container after you’ve devoured the entire piece of lasagna. “sorry buddy,” he says to the kid sheepishly, with your tomato-sauce covered body dangling from one hand. “i’ll give you a piece of merch to make up for the lasagna.”

still manhandling you with one hand, he uncaps a sharpie with his teeth and scribbles his signature on his own williams-branded jacket. he shrugs it off with a bit of difficulty before dumping it in the kid’s arms. the small fan ecstatically beams at franco, and thanks him profusely.

when your boyfriend squeezes by the crowd of people that were gathered to see the scene play out, he finds his pr manager standing with her arms crossed with a rather disappointed look on her face.

“did you even think before doing whatever that was?” she questions franco, simultaneously glaring at you.

when you give her a hiss of annoyance at reprimanding your boyfriend, she just about snaps.

“yeah, you’re done,” she say irritatedly. “franco, take yourself and your cat back into your driver’s room. you're grounded. both of you are prohibited from coming out for the next hour.”

you giggle inside. that’s a win for you, honestly. an hour with just yourself and franco? sounds like a great time to get into a little more mischief!

[kombuuuu]

Omg I just saw that u write for atsv!! So I was wondering if u could do one with a female reader x hobie where the readers quite reserved to everyone in public (maybe she’d been a spidey longer so she’s lost more people? Idk why she’d be reserved bc I cannot write for shot lmao) and people think she’s super cold but then they like?? Walk in, and she’s like open and warm with Hobie (it doesn’t matter if she’s loud or not) and they kinda just look at the scene in shock like wtf and Pav is sort of smug bc he knew all along and then it comes out that they’re dating?

It Sounds Nice coming from You.

Hobie Brown x Fem!Spidey Reader

“I totally called it.” “Don’t even speak, Pavitr.”

kisses him cause he my bf (-compulsive liar)

People whispered about you. Spider people and the general public alike. Your city spreading gossip, rumours and misinformation to try and figure out who you were, but that was a Spiderwoman affair, every one of them dealt with it.

But having people same as you talk in hushed tones, glancing at you as you walked past. That’s a new kind of feeling.

The Spider Society didn’t exactly favour you, per se. There was nothing inherently wrong with you either, so no reason to get rid of you. But you were just so silent. No one knew a thing about you.

You mostly kept to yourself around base, never really trying too hard to make friends, you were well known enough not to be questioned. A loyal fighter was what you were recognised for, not your personality, your abilities.

There were still some people that managed to creep their way in though, their hearts so full of love, you didn’t know how to refuse them.

So you conceded. You let them in, and begged to any deity that would listen not to take them from you.

—

Hobie knew you as someone who could listen. Who understood him rather than challenged his beliefs. Not that he had any, but that was the point.

Your lack of input made him feel accepted in going on tangents of why he thought the way he did. And you just sat, and listened. A kind heart and an open mind.

Which eventually led to him falling for that kind heart. Tripping over his own feet to please your silent self. To get those small smiles or amused huffs out of you.

The occasional time you spoke to him, under hushed breaths and fond tones. God, he couldn’t take it.

The way your accent forms over each and every word, how your voice was akin to honey malt, sweet and addicting. Only giving him small doses, but he was the only one who got those doses. Only him, and you, and the words you spoke or times you listened.

He knows that people thought you were cold, or unloving. And maybe you were at first, maybe he thought you were. But he figured you out fast. Where you couldn’t talk, you could touch. Brushing your hands over his arm to get his attention. Linking your hand through his and dragging him away from people you don’t want to be near, he would smile down at you and follow along like a lost puppy. How your brows would crease a certain way, or nose would scrunch a little when you found distaste in things. He was a fool for you.

Where you lacked in verbal communication, you strived in every other category. So when some Spider-people decided to come to him, urging him for answers about you.

Telling him that he wasn’t sure you even wanted to be here—, Hobie would shut down the conversation quicker than thought to be possible. Giving a simple “She’s just quiet.”, and ditching the moment the words are out of his mouth.

It’d worked—, for a while. Ignoring the demeaning or conspiratorial comments made about you by spider-people a-kind. But eventually it got the better of him. Having him borderline snarl at the people who would talk shit right in front of his, or your, face.

“She’s silent, ain’t she?”

“Yeah. Peter 48 said she was like that ‘cause she killed her parents, made ‘er real quiet.”

“Jesus christ. Wouldn’t surprise me, she’s a freak.”

“Dude—“ One of the two spiders, the first one, turned to Hobie. Spider-senses ringing. Hobie stated back at them, deadpan and unblinking. “Don’t.”

The younger spider paled, quickly trying to backtrack.

“Hey— Hobie. I— Didn’t mean it. Was just repeating what I heard, ykno—“

“Cut it, mate.”

He squeaked, head tilting down in respect, the other spider following.

“Stop spreading shit rumours like ‘at. It ain’t fun when you’re the subject. ‘S it?”

“No.”

“Mm.”

Hobie walked past them smoothly, brushing shoulders with the kid just to scare him a little more. When he was far enough away, he heard them start to whisper to one another. “Fuck man, that was close. He could tell Miguel, and then we’d be out.”

“Jesus..”

He felt rather accomplished that day.

—

It was days later where you were brought up around him again. He’d been texting you, the upper half of his body hanging from Miguel’s platform, his wicks shifting every time he moved.

Miguel and Lyla were talking amongst themselves, clicking through holograms and sorting things out for potential anomalies.

Jess, Pavitr and Gwen had walked into the room chatting, Pav and Gwen expressing their excitement rather loudly.

He glanced up at them from his phone, you were still typing.

immm gonna b homein ten just be patient >:(

I’m patient 🦑

u werent 2 seconds ago

I don’t subscribe to consistency.

Or this slandering talk

ur consistently lame

also why squid

I’m never lame. Also, he’s cute

hes not real

Don’t do this me

reeeeeal tasty tho

What is wrong with you.

numnnum crunchhhh crrcchhh numnum ( > _ <)

Inhumane.

mmmmmm yummyyyy

He can’t die, he’s immortal

The ‘Texting’ bubble popped up on his screen.

“Hey, Hobie!”

Pavitr was running up to him, looking from his lowered position below the elevated platform.

He slipped further down the platform, slumping slowly as he greeted Pavitr upside down.

“Pav, my guy!”

Pavitr bounced on the balls of his feet, smiling wide at his friend.

“What’chu doing up there?”

His eyes darted to Miguel and Lyla, ending their conversation.

Smirking, he whispered to Hobie, “With the grump.”

Hobie snickered, gaining a disapproving look from Jess.

“Textin’ [Name].”

Just then, the next message from you showed.

immortal ??? how consistent of him to live

He grinned, typing back quickly while Pavitr eyed him knowingly.

He’s a squid, he’s more fluid than anything

ihu

terrivle joke

No, you don’t

And it was great

wtvr >:P

Hobie grabbed the ledge of the platform and swung down, landing softly in front of Pavitr and pocketed his phone.

“Glad ya ‘ere. Those two can’t keep it quiet, aye?” He said, pointing back towards Lyla and Miguel.

“They do argue very often.”

“Nah, Lyla don’t argue, mate. Just the hardass.”

Pavitr snorted and Hobie softly punched his stomach in jest, earning one from Pav to the chest, and starting a round of playful punching. Pavitr laughed as Hobie brought him into a headlock, scrunching his fist over the shorter man’s hair and rubbing it in.

They let up when they heard Lyla teasing Miguel for something again, giggling to each other at his expense.

He threw an arm over his fluffy haired friend and leaned his weight on him. Pav smiled up at him once more, brighter now. Before he could speak, Gwen’s voice echoed through the barren room.

“Same reason as you, I’m guessing.”

Hobie turned his head towards her, dropping himself off Pav and standing up straight again. Smiling at her as she reached him, and went in to hug her briefly. When they disconnected, he spoke again.

“Yeah—, No clue then, mini-punk.”

“Don’t call me that.”

“Neither big bad has said nothin’ to me yet.”

“Seriously, are we going to skip over that?”

“Maybe they’re waiting until [Name] is here!” Pavitr chimed in.

“What does mini-punk even mean!”

“Not exactly, Pavitr.”

Jess, who now was standing next to Miguel, spoke.

The trio turned to face the two elder spider-people.

“Huh?”

“We wanted to have a discussion with the three of you—.” Miguel put his hands on his hips, authority that Hobie only saw as a challenge emanating from his figure.

“—Away from [Name], she’s already been consulted.”

Hobies eyes narrowed, the atmosphere in the room suddenly shifting to something a lot less unfriendly, and a lot more cautious.

Jess caught wind of the younger man’s tense stature and shuffled forward a step, not unwilling to intervene.

“Nothing too bad, just—,” He paused for a moment, the dense light from the reflective floors making the contours of his face pop.

Hobie watched with batted breath, posture only slightly relaxing from the statement. The crease in his brows begging to be drawn, yet his pokerface was something to be beat.

“,—Addressing her.. lack of communication.”

A shiver raked down the brit’s body, physically restraining himself from chewing this man out with a rebuttal.

“Wha’ ‘bout it?”

His gruff voice was a stark indicator of his annoyance.

“Well, ignoring the rumours following her—,”

Hobie, the usually rather sensical man, was getting more agitated by the minute.

“,—We’ve noticed a certain independence that she holds. Something not many others do.”

The punk quirked a brow.

“So?” Gwen was the one to talk now.

“That doesn’t seem very serious, ‘f you ask me.” She laughed lightly, trying to lighten the mood. Something Pavitr seemed a tad scared to do. There was a lot of competition in the air right now, he wasn’t very competitive.

“Exactly, it’s not.”

Jess cut in, seeing how terribly Miguel started this conversation made her cringe.

“It’s not—, but,” She shook her head, hair falling prettily with every move. “,Her ‘independence’, has been more akin to ‘lack of teamwork’. In some cases.”

Gwen started to speak again, her eyebrows furrowed, just as Hobies now were. He was right about brewing with offence.

“So!—,” Jess cut her off before she could begin.

“So there’s no need for her to have distractions anymore. From now on, she will not be going on team missions. Just solo’s.”

“Wha—! You’re cutting her off?!”

“Gwen, it’s not like that.”

“Like hell it isnt! She’s a part of us!”

“Doesn’t this mean she’s going to be in more danger?” Pavitr spoke up, concerned.

“No— well, not unless—,”

“Unless!? You’ve gotta’ be kidding!” Gwen choked out.

“And what does ‘consulted’ mean! Did she agree to this?!—“

They continued to argue, Gwen and Pavitr advocating for your teamwork skills while Miguel and Jess had made up their mind.

“No communication,” He pinched the bridge of his nose “,Fuck off.” Hobie scoffed under his breath, turning to leave and storming out.

The voices of Miguel, Jess and his friends following him through the portal to you.

—

“You agreed to this?”

lIts not like they’re wrong, I just hold you all back.”

He huffed, exasperated. Not only were you putting yourself in danger, you were doing it alone. And letting some guy who has a borderline vendetta against teens be the call for it.

“Now, you know that’s not tr—“

His stern voice was cut off by the frown on your face quivering. A due sign of you nearing to cry.

“Oh, shit— C’mon dollface, c’mere.”

He sat down on your shared bed, scooting against the headboard and bringing you into his lap. A soothing hand ran over your back as you tried to reel in your embarrassment.

“I really didn’t mean to agree.”

Hobie sighed, pushing your head into his neck and watching how the rings adorning his fingers rose goosebumps in their path. “I know, sweet’eart.”

And he did know, the moment that it had been a meeting addressed solely with just Jess and Miguel, he knew that Peter had been excluded for a reason. That Miles had been sent after an anomaly as an unknowing distraction for Peter to chase after. He knew those two intimidated you. And the fear of parental disappointment was something they used on you—, young, sweet you. That only ever got hurt because she didn’t want her problems to hurt others, or herself.

You had opened up to him once. Told him what everyone twisted when they whispered sickening words. A story unlike the rumours crowding your reputation.

How no, you hadn’t killed your parents, or siblings, or whatever messed up thing people claimed of you.

You told him how you hadn’t been bitten yet. How, when your family was killed, you hadn’t had any powers. So you couldn’t save them. And it wasn’t even canon. Nothing could’ve stopped them from dying, but it didn’t have to happen. And that was the guilt that weighed on you. How no matter the hardships your parents put you through, a kid neglected of attention. You still would rather die a million times for them to live once.

And it’s all “would”, and never “can”.

Other spider-people don’t have to live with the fact their parents died for nothing. Was what you said. A messed up thought, no doubt. And one you felt guilty for. But the sole continuer of this sorrow-filled silence. Which has worked well enough to protect you so far, why is Hobie one to break that?

Because you love him, you guess.

His hands slid further down your back, resting on the curve of your waist in his lap.

His breathing soothed yours. The shuddering breaths you had been giving to stop your tears, also stopped.

“You wanna talk about your day instead, luv?”

“Yeah, thank you Hobie.”

“Love when you say my name, Babydoll. So pretty and sweet like that.”

Wrapping your hands around his lithe waist, you hummed. Beginning your recount of the day in the honeyed, reserved tone you’d always held.

—

Around half an hour had passed with Gwen arguing against Miguel before Peter showed up, Moles in tow.

“What’s all this about?” His slippers flopped when he walked and the baby carrier strapped to his chest shifted every time a sleeping MayDay squirmed to get comfortable.

“This—, This asshole!”

“Gwen.” Jess chastised her.

Gwen ignored it, pointing at Miguel accusingly. “—Kicked [Name] off the team!”

“Not kicked.”

“You said she wasn’t going with us anymore.”

Miles looked offended by the prospect. “Why?”

“She’s not kicked, she’s simply better off solo.”

“Oh, so it’s our fault then!”

“Gwendolyne.”

“All of you, stop.”

Peters voice ended the bickering, having learnt since fatherhood exactly how to use said voice. “We are not sending an 18 year old on solo mission against anomalies.”

“Since when did you have a say—“

“Miguel. You’re an idiot if you think i’m going to let that happen. That’s a kid.”

“She’s an adult.”

“When it’s convenient to you.”

Miguel pinched his nose bridge, growling under his breath. Jess spared a glance at him before wincing and backing down from the conversation.

“She doesn’t talk to people.”

“I’m sure she does, just not to you.” Gwen cut in.

“Yeah, her and Hobie talk a lot.” Miles prepped up on his toes. Pavitr smiled and hummed an agreement.

“Not that I’ve seen.”

Peter gave him another disapproving look. “Disregarding that. The fact you decided to not consult me on this decision is another reason that it’s not happening.”

“Consult? Like some council, please.” Miguel scoffed at him, rolling his eyes and turning to open a holographic tab.

“Yes, like some council. Someone’s gotta be the brains ‘round here.” The father joked, coddling MayDay as she cooed.

“I’m going to go inform [Name] the retraction of this decision.”

“Don’t you dare.”

“Oops too late, portals open.”

“Can I come with?” Miles jogged after Peter, hopping quickly through the portal, Peter, Gwen and Pavitr following. Not without Gwen flipping Miguel off as she went. “We’ll sort something out, she can go duos with Hobie.” Jess put a hand on his shoulder, watching as he stared off to where the portal had previously been with a sided expression before sighing.

“Yeah..”

“That went great.” Lyla dragged, popping up on Miguel’s shoulder.

“I’m a second away from shutting you off.”

The AI blew a raspberry at her companion, and disappeared.

—

He had went off on a tangent about some movie he saw, or song he’d heard. Hobie honestly couldn’t remember, he was too focused on you. The way your voice sounded, how open you were being with him when every now and then you would respond to him. The hearts in his eyes were probably from how heavy his own was beating. Staring at you like a sinner to a prophet.

You had moved down from his lap, now curled against his side, head leaning on his shoulder and hand resting on his chest. At some point, the movie you had been watching before Hobie showed up was unpaused, and serving as background noise for his quiet rambling.

Both of you pressed under a blanket to beat the cold, and the darkness outside your window being killed off by the lights strung across your room. He doesn’t think he’s ever felt this cozy, this utterly comfortable.

Sparks of colour strung out of nowhere, neither of them really seeing it at first, up until it spat out Miles. He stumbled forward a little and went to greet you before taking on the scene. You and Hobie cuddled up on a bed, blanket wrapped around you both, fire going, people singing. He was exaggerating the last parts, but it felt necessary for something so unexpected.

“Hey—, guys.” The awkward teen managed, before Peter walked through the portal with the other two in tow.

“Woah, no mean to interrupt.”

Peter put his hands up in surrender. Hobie snorted, it wasn’t like you were incapable of affection, It just seems he was the only one who got it.

“I totally called it.”

“Don’t even speak, Pavitr.”

He pouted, before giggling and waltzing over to sit next to the both of you. Flopping down on the bed and turning to watch the TV.

“Oh my god, I love this movie!”

“Favourite character?” You inquired. A collective raise of eyebrows was shown throughout the room.

Gwen shuffling over to sit down as well, a baffled look on her face.

“The horse.”

“Pff- Max?” Hobie snorted at Pav. Giving the still rather confused Miles - Peter duo a reassuring smile. And greeting Gwen with a fist bump, she smiled wearily at him before her smirk filled out and she punched his arm in congrats.

Pavitr nodded and laughed, gasping excitedly when the scene on the lake showed up. “Perfect timing.”

You glanced up at Hobie, Miles and Peter finding somewhere to sit as well, talking quietly amongst themselves.

He smiled at you, bringing you in closer while Pavitr sat smug.

The air of confusion slowly dissipated into something accepting, none but Pavitr had really expected you to be so.. Open. But they came to find they didn’t exactly mind it.

—

Everyone had left by now, the knowledge that you didn’t have to go on dangerous missions alone anymore leaving Hobie satisfied and you comforted.

“You doin’ right, babe?”

“Yeah, Hobes.”

You gripped his shirt a tad tighter and yawned, eyes drifting more shut as the minutes ticked down. “Wanna go t’ bed?”

“We’re in bed, dummy.”

He shot you a playful look.

“Don’ ge’ smart with me, young lady.”

You smiled at him before he made the decision to shuffle you both down in bed to get comfortable, switching off the lights by the outlet. He moved back to you, letting his whole body rest near yours, and letting you initiate any contact wanted.

A leg wrapped around his, and your arm still picking the fabric of his shirt.

“Sleep, sweethear’.”

“Mhmmph.”

Hobies breathe lulled you to sleep, white noise against your racing thoughts. He watched you fall, your trust in him to keep you safe was enough to make a man weak. He smiled, looking out your shared window at the city life below.

No crime, no anomaly or misshaped villain could possibly drag him away from you.

—

BAMBAMBAM 🦑‼️

[xazse]

mr compress x kittygirl hybrid! reader and i will worship the ground you walk 😣😣🙏🙏🙏

SWEET GIRL

Synopsis: Mr.Compress feels a certain inkling and intensity within himself.

Notes: this is great I know you just submitted this really recent but I wanted to let some of my fans know that I will now write for MHA!!! SEND ME SOME STUFF (don’t worry to my others who have sent jjk requests I’m working on them<333)) (sorry I just had to do something with the league and them meeting kitty girl)

Pairings: Mr.Compress x KittyGirl!Hybrid

Warnings: Smut + mean!League Members + rough handling + rough kissing + fingering + penetration + Fem!reader + Hybrid!reader

Mr.Compress had dragged in another stray: you he had known for at least a month before introducing you to the league. He found you digging through some rubble searching for food. He had felt extremely bad and just felt the need to take you.

So that’s what he did, he took you and you didn’t fight at all he just went, scooped you up. You looked a tad bit confused but when he gave you some food you were attached, he gave you plenty of opportunities to leave but every time you’d look around for him and once you found him you’d loop your arms with his and follow. It was downright adorable.

After some time had passed he chose to introduce you to his beloved league.

“She looks stupid, get her out.”

“That’s so mean Tomura! I think she looks adoreable!”

“You are very right Toga, Shigaraki isn’t used to cutesy things.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” The blue haired man exclaimed from the bar.

“Why not give er’ a change Shigaraki? She could prove to be useful.” Spinner is always trying to be the middle man, Mr.Compress can certainly rely on him to get you in good with everyone.

“Useful my ass.” Dabi’s the one who speaks up.

“It wouldn’t be wise for you to talk, you’re in the same boat as her.” Shigaraki backfires.

“Tried to help you, dick.”

It hadn’t even been 40 minutes sitting as the league chats and discusses various things, Toga and Twice won’t leave you alone they insist on playing with your tail and rubbing your pointy ears: pushing them back just to watch them pop right back in place.

You aren’t complaining one bit, you love the extra attention they’re giving you, you can’t quite make out what they’re saying but nonetheless you know it’s nothing but sweet words minus twice sometimes blurting random crude things.

Leaving them proves to be the worst, “tears” are exchanged when Mr. Compress is ready to depart and you have to leave the new friends you just made. He reassures you that you’ll be able to see everyone again very soon.

Mr compress loves you a tenth fold you’re impressed by his tricks others find to be unfunny but you will sit for hours and watch him show off, clapping with the biggest smile on your cute face. It drives him mad to have his own personal fan.

It makes his cock throb when he’s doing one of his tricks and you look so curious to find out what’s next, he can’t focus on finishing it when you’re swooning right in front of him, he basically attacks you with sloppy kisses.

His thick tongue invades your mouth, his actions aren’t careful, he needs to be inside you right now.

He sits on his hind legs and traps you with his thighs on either side. He takes his hard cock out and jerks himself a few times right over your exposed stomach. you’ve all of a sudden gone shy on him, trying to avoid the intense way he’s staring down at you.

He stops for a moment to rid you of your bra, then your panties whilst also undressing himself fully too.

Even after all this time you’re still hiding your body from him like he hasn’t explored every single inch of you. He pays that no mind and moves to rub your cunt, he makes sure not to directly touch your clit.

He moves his skillful fingers around your lips, dipping in and out of your hole to get you used to the feeling. Sweet moans slip from your throat, your breath hitches everytime he so much as grazes the englared bud.

Impatient Compress starts full on fucking you with his fingers, he has to use a little of his strength to keep your leg nice and still for him. You’re full on moaning, it feels so damn good, the way his fingers abuse your wet hole in the meanest motions he can muster.

He makes eye contact with you when he pulls his fingers out and licks them, making sure to clean them dry.

He’s got you plenty wet, he rubs the tip of his cock in between your lips even touching your sensitive clit, he hadn’t even made you cum and you’re already so jumpy.

His thick cock starts to push inside you, slowly filling you of him, taking him is no walk in the park, he’s more long than anything, you grip whatever you can as he pushes past your tight hole.

Atsuhiro lets you adjust to him, he can hear slight sniffling from you, poor thing, he’ll make you happy in just a moment: that moment being now, he pushes your legs a little towards your torso angling his cock more snuggly.

Atushiro is never one to rush sex with you, he likes to be in the moment so he can enjoy and really feel you but now he can’t wait, he starts thrusting fast and deep, your fat cunt accepting every inch so easily now.

He’s been obsessed with your pussy the first day you and him had sex, you’re so tight and warm, he draws his hips back all the way letting his cock fall out to admire the slick it’s covered in, just to slam right back into you.

“Nnng..”

“Feels… so good Sako..” your moans sound so choked up in your throat, making you all the more desperate for more clearly.

His face is a beautiful shade of pink, groans mixed with yours slipping from his bitten lips, you truly don’t know the effects your cunt has on him, everytime he pulls back you suck him right back in.

Your tail has a mind of its own when it wraps around his torso, moving along with the rhythm of his hips.

You wipe the tears that have found their way to your face, your body spasms in that familiar way, along with your pussy tightening even more around him. He holds you down by your tummy, securing you in place so you don’t thrash everywhere.

He slams down in you one last time, pushing you right over the edge you cum with a loud yelp followed by quiet whines that die down, through this whole thing he’s praising you, kissing your soddened cheeks.

Your chest rapidly tries to calm down, feeling the aftershocks of a nasty orgasm.

Later that night he makes sure to rub your pointy ears and cuddle you as close as possible.