#other than the copious amounts of sex she has

[emcads]

biggest difference between me and esme is definitely our taste in alcohol

[wandasaura]

LOVELORN AND NOBODY KNOWS

summary — your relationship with natasha is not as black and white as it seems, but you’re in no rush to figure out the logistics of it. when she leaves for a business trip, wanda is your only source of comfort, but you hate her… right?

warning(s) — established relationship, married wandanat, dom/sub dynamics, playful banter between three idiots, somnophilia, edging, praise, begging, teasing, oral, fingering, semi-clothed sex, finger sucking, bratty reader, a fuck ton of domestic shenanigans, copious amounts of fluff, essentially hurt/comfort, mentions of anxiety & panic attacks, mommy wanda 101, so much softness, men/minors dni

authors note — this is actually such a wild ride, and i shamelessly got the slightest bit carried away, but hey, we’re making progress in the wanda x reader department!

you are in love universe

♥️⊹ ˚ . 18+, men/minors dni ⁺ 𓈒 ꒰💌꒱ ♡ ･ mommy maximoff ✧

You saw Natasha at least three times a week, she made sure of it when she could. Sometimes, you were lucky enough to see her every day in some capacity, other times her business kept you apart for an entire week if not longer. Your favorite days were the ones where she’d stop by your dorm room for a quick lunch break. She’d bring your favorite meal and a bouquet of vibrant flowers, and it gave you a taste of what an authentic relationship with her would look like. You never forgot about Wanda. Never forgot that she was already married and had her wife’s explicit permission to be seeing you, but it was nice to pretend anyway. It probably wasn’t the best idea to have a crush on your employer, even if your arrangement was anything but practical, but even still, you should not be crushing hard on the woman who pays you for a fuck. 

You’d seen Natasha four times this week and it was only Wednesday. She’d stopped by your dorm room for lunch on Monday afternoon, holding onto a takeout bag from your favorite Italian restaurant, a bouquet of wildflowers neatly arranged in a tall and elegant vase, and one of her old Avengers University hoodies that had been meticulously sprayed down with her expensive perfume. On Tuesday, you ran into her at your favorite coffee shop where she subsequently stopped you from ordering a triple shot espresso in exchange for an ice water. You’d wanted to be mad, wanted to tell her that you were a big girl and you needed the extra caffeine to survive the long day of studying ahead, but when you’d even thought about challenging her, one look into her green eyes had you melting into the submissive partner she expected you to be. Sometimes you hated how easily she could break your strength without even trying, but you knew that was the biggest lie you've ever told yourself. You adore the control she has over you, you allow her to have that control, but sometimes you just wanted her to remind you of that. She did later that evening when you’d gone to the Maximoff’s residence for dinner. On Wednesday morning, you woke up with a soft ache between your thighs and the remnants of her touch in the form of scattered bruising across your chest. 

Every Wednesday night since you’d signed the contract to be Natasha Maximoff’s sugar baby, you had gone over to the Maximoff residence for a movie night and pizza. There was never a promise of anything sexual happening, but sometimes you just couldn’t help yourself and Natasha would fuck you right there on the couch if you asked nice enough. Wanda wasn’t always a participant in your film marathons. She worked in the office a significant amount more than Natasha did, claiming she liked the fast paced environment more than the peaceful quiet of the house, and her late hours kept her away from you most Wednesday nights. For that you were beyond grateful, but you didn’t always get so lucky. 

Tonight was one of those nights where Wanda had retired from the office earlier than usual, and was already on the couch with a half finished glass of wine before you’d even shown up at seven. The key you kept on your lanyard was practically useless on Wednesdays. If the door wasn’t already unlocked prior to your arrival, Natasha was sprinting to open it before you could even attempt to do it yourself. The gesture made you blush a ferocious shade of red each time, and you wondered if she sat by the window and watched you drive up just so she could fluster you, but you’d never get that answer out of her no matter how prettily you begged. Some secrets were kept tightly underwraps, even if they were merely forged in amusement. You’ve come to learn that Natasha Maximoff loves secrets, even if they made both yours and Wanda’s skin crawl. 

“How were classes, milyy?” Natasha asked sweetly, pressing a soft kiss to your lips in the doorway of the house, not yet letting you enter fully. The warmer days of Spring had finally settled over top of the small New Jersey shore town she and Wanda lived within, and the lick of heat that encased your body was particularly pleasant tonight. Dressed in only a pair of soft pajama shorts and her recently gifted hoodie, you didn’t mind standing outside for as long as she wanted, the moonlight reflecting off of her eyes created its own endless galaxy that you had the pleasure of getting lost in. You’d hate to shuffle inside and lose sight of it. 

“Tiring.” You hummed, leaning into her gentle touch when her calloused palms reached out to cup your cheeks. Your answer sets the mood for the evening even without meaning to, but you don’t mind what you’re getting yourself into. Natasha is always particularly attentive and soft with you if you tell her that you’ve had a long day, and secretly, you’ve been anticipating her coddling since your second lecture that afternoon. “It’s almost done, I just keep telling myself that.” 

“And then you’re mine for an entire summer. Think you can manage six more weeks before I steal you away?” She asked softly, already having a plethora of ideas for how she’d ask you to spend your break. You practically lived at the Maximoff residence during the semester, she couldn’t imagine three full months of your undivided attention and company. It was sure to be bliss. 

“Or I can drop out and we can start early.” You suggested, though it was merely a fabrication of your need for calm rather than any actual intentions of dropping out. You adored your academics, as demanding as they were, you were just reaching a critical episode of burnout. “Never let me overload again. I think my cerebrum is malfunctioning.” 

“That’s a big word for such a little girl.” Wanda’s voice quipped from deeper into the house, a playful edge to her tone but you were in no mood for jokes, especially not from her. You scowled with the knowledge that you wouldn’t even get a handful of hours alone with Natasha now, whining pitifully into the chest of your dominant. Sometimes you wished you could call her more than that, but you’d settle for anything if it meant calling her yours. 

“Be nice, she’s just teasing.” Natasha rewarded you with a gentle kiss, her cold fingers tilting your chin upward until she had your lips perfectly available. You tasted like coffee, and her brows furrowed at the realization that not long ago, probably not even a full half hour ago, you’d consumed caffeine. She always worried about you getting enough sleep at night, and the repercussions of caffeine on days when your anxiety was particularly brutal, but you never listened to her. “How many coffee’s have you had today, milyy?” 

“Please don’t punish me.” You sighed in regret, melting against her chest and forcing her arms to wrap around your waist and support the majority of your weight, the front door still open and allowing the valued cold air that Wanda paid a pretty penny for to slip out into the streets of Westview. “I just needed something to get me through class, and I didn’t want to fall asleep on you ten minutes into a movie so I stopped on the way here. I didn’t even finish it, promise, it’s still half-full in the car. You’re leaving tomorrow. I just wanted to see you.” 

Your nervous rambling was enough to indicate that your head was swimming in thoughts that made no real sense. Truthfully you knew that Natasha wouldn’t punish you for your caffeine intake. She’d be worried, she’d make you drink enough water to refill the ocean if it somehow managed to evaporate, but she wouldn’t punish you. Her consideration for your wellbeing did not warrant a physical punishment for choices you made as a grown adult, even if they concerned her. 

“Is that what this is about?” Natasha quizzed, looking down at you with a fondness in her eyes that made your cheeks flush a shade of pink only she had ever been able to create. When you nodded sadly, still not willing to let go of her waist, the lawyer huffed out a mixture of laughter that was somehow both saddened and amused. “It’s only two weeks, milyy. Fourteen days. How many hours is that?” She asked softly, knowing that you knew the answer. When you had first learned of her inescapable business trip to the Bahamas, which honestly sounded more like a dream than an obligation, you’d gone on a rampage. You’d listed off the number of days and hours and seconds that you’d be apart. You’d pleaded with her not to leave you for so long, and as embarrassed as you felt once you’d sobered up from your state of panic, the fact still remained that you were dreading the time apart. Yeah, Natasha was definitely more than just your contractual dominant, but neither one of you had braved a conversation regarding what the true extent of your relationship was. 

“Three hundred and thirty six. That’s over twenty thousand minutes, Natty.” You whispered into her chest so softly that the howling wind almost drowned you out, but still Natasha heard you and tightened her hold around your midsection, not caring about how warm the house became as a result of the still open front door. She’d melt into a puddle if it meant easing your mind, and Wanda, despite her tendency to poke fun at you, didn’t mind either. 

“You’ll be okay. I have a surprise for you, but I think we need to get some food into this belly and some water into you before we do any of that.” Natasha smoothed the wild flyaways away from your face, cradling your cheeks sweetly and tenderly, almost as if she was afraid if she touched you too hard you’d crumble on her front porch. 

At the mention of a surprise, your attention peaked, and you tried to peer around her body for any indication of what it was that she had. “Now?” You tried to convince her, a lively spark coming back to your eyes. You always loved her surprises. They weren’t all material, and the ones that were didn’t always make your bank account hurt at the mere thought of how much she’d spent on you. Sometimes a surprise meant that she’d take you out for a walk and bring you to her favorite bench by the shore, sometimes it meant she’d found little canvases to paint and had set up a makeshift studio in her office. Sometimes it meant that she had new toys to test and outfits to wear. You never knew what she had up her sleeve, but you adored her efforts nonetheless. 

Natasha laughed at your eagerness, glad that you had come back to yourself if only for a couple of minutes, but shook her head to decline your temptations. “Not now. Come on, inside, baby.” She guided you further into the house, finally closing the heavy front door when you were far enough inside to not be nicked by the latch. She’d made the mistake once, and you hadn’t let her forget about it since. She was so excited about your company that she’d more or less attempted to close the front door on your body, and while she’d apologized profusely, you’d just taken the bait and been able to call her the impatient one for once. 

“Hi Wanda.” You mumbled out pleasantries, knowing that it would make Natasha happy even if you just wanted to ignore the other CEO in the room. The woman was curled up into the corner of the couch, far away from the spot you and Natasha typically occupied during movie nights. Briefly you wondered if she’d done it on purpose, or if that was just the spot she liked to sit in. 

“Hi, darling.” She returned the greeting, though it was significantly warmer than yours. Natasha praised you for your efforts either way, running her cold hands up and down your thighs as she came to stand directly behind you, her chin resting on the crown of your head in the way you despised when anyone else tried to do that same. She was only two or so inches taller than you, but she made up for it in dominance, and it was no help that you shrunk in on yourself whenever she was around. 

“Go sit with Wanda, baby. I’ll bring you out some pizza.” Natasha left a kiss on the side of your head before she pulled away from you entirely and gave you an encouraging shove toward the couch. You pouted not only because of her asking you to keep Wanda company, but because the last thing you wanted was to leave her company after just entering it. 

Wanda laughed at your expression, patting the soft silk cushions of the couch invitingly. You adored their couch. You had made it known on multiple occasions when you all but refused to move into a bed at the end of the night, but something about being left alone with Wanda made even the softest seat feel daunting and scary. “I don’t bite, detka.” Wanda laughed, watching you pleadingly stare at Natasha who promptly ignored the burn of your eyes on her back as she disappeared into the kitchen. Her auburn hair looked like pure fire as she slipped into the brighter lit room, the overhead lights casting spells on her appearance. “She’ll be right back, there’s no need to pout.” 

You huffed at Wanda’s unwillingness to appease your sadness, but shuffled on your feet until you were close enough to the couch to plop down in the way she hated. The cushion sank beneath your weight and the back of the couch welcomed your presence without any additional need to wiggle around and get comfortable, and as much as it felt like a warm hug, your skin crawled being so close to Wanda without Natasha around to mediate. 

“Don’t be a brat, darling. It’s only for a couple of minutes.” Wanda’s scold wasn’t necessarily cold, but it was still laced with dominance that you couldn’t ignore. You huffed, pouting deeper, grabbing fistfulls of the hoodie’s sleeves and holding them over your trembling fingers. Wanda’s reserve melted as she picked up the subtle tells of anxiety, and that indistinguishable gleam reappeared in her eyes that were green like Natasha’s but so so different and unique. “You still have all of tonight. There’s no need for the tears right now, angel. Tomorrow, you can cry all you want, but enjoy what you have in the moment. Can you do that, detka?” 

“I don’t want her to leave.” You mumbled, nervously bringing the cuff of Natasha’s sleeve up to your mouth and chewing on it. Wanda had seen Natasha reprimand you for the action, she herself had reprimanded you for the action, but you looked far too nervous to scold right now, so she let you be. You didn’t know what had come over you. Never would you admit such silly feelings to Wanda, but you figured she would understand your thoughts. Natasha was nothing to you but a piece of paper, even if you didn’t believe that it was still the truth, but Wanda was her wife, and she had every reason to hate this trip more than you did. 

Not making a sarcastic remark like you’d half-expected her to, Wanda merely shrugged sadly and took another long sip of her red. You hated red wine, but the lawyer beside you found it particularly comforting for reasons you’d never asked about. “I don’t want her to go either, but she has to. A long time ago we stopped getting upset about what’s best for our business. It doesn’t do either of us any good if we work ourselves up about the inevitable. She’s come back before, hasn’t she?” 

“Yeah, but– but she’s never been gone this long, and– and, I don’t know.” You shrugged, your words practically incoherent with the thick material still between your teeth, but Wanda had understood you perfectly. 

“I think you do know, but you don’t want to tell me, and that’s okay. It’s okay to need her, malysh. She does a lot for you, yes? More than just providing orgasms like you’d thought you’d be getting into.” There was a hint of a teasing in Wanda’s tone, and her words caused a blush to spread across your cheeks at the implication of her knowing about your most intimate moments. Of course she knew. She’d seen you cum on Natasha’s strap and her fingers, on her thigh and on her tongue, in her bed and on her couch and her dining room table, but still you found ways to be shy about the topic after nearly a year. 

“Shut up.” You mumbled through your mortification, wanting desperately to hide your face and scrub this conversation from your memory. Your cerebrum may be failing in an intellectual sense, but it was working just fine now and you hated to admit that talking about orgasms with Wanda made you needy. 

Wanda laughed at your embarrassment, setting her wine glass down on the coffee table in front of her, her ringed fingers sparkling in the dim lighting of the room. The diamonds on her left hand were particularly blinding, and once again you remembered what you were to them and what Natasha wasn’t to you. 

“Natasha is just as upset about leaving you. She knows this is a stressful time, or did you forget we both went through eight years of law school?” Wanda quirked a perfectly sculpted brow in your direction, her green stare unwavering, and honestly, you had forgotten that they’d been in your shoes once, even if it was years ago now. Your silence was enough of an answer for Wanda whose lips curled upward into her signature smirk of amusement. “I think you’ll like the surprise.”

“You know what it is?” Your head whipped in her direction, and no longer did you avoid looking into her eyes. Your excitement was back, and desperately you bounced on the couch and pulled the sleeve away from your mouth. “What is it?” 

“What kind of secret would it be if I gave it up so easily? You should know better than that, little one.” Wanda laughed, curling her legs further beneath her as she readjusted on the couch, not missing your immediate pout at her unwillingness to even give you a hint. “You will find out soon.”

“I wanna find out now.” You huffed, throwing yourself back into the couch and crossing your arms over your chest. You wouldn’t beg with Wanda, no you still had enough self control to restrain from stopping to such low levels, but maybe you could work Natasha and get her to cave before she made you sit through an entire movie still not knowing. 

“Are you still pouting about the surprise?” The voice of your dominant hadn’t been expected, and you lurched forward on the couch in a desperate attempt to please her. Both women laughed at your stick-straight posture and firmly planted feet, but only one of them leaned forward to kiss your head and for that you were grateful. 

“Yes!” You huffed, throwing your arms out toward your sides in exasperation, narrowly avoiding hitting Natasha in the face as she leaned down to place three plates of pizza on the coffee table. You’d never understand how she could balance so many things at once, but when you’d asked once, she’d just laughed and told you she was a skilled spy in another life. “Please, Natty? I want to know! Wanda knows! You know! I’m the only one who doesn’t know!”

“That’s because A, Wanda lives here, and B, the surprise is for you. Do I need to remind you of the definition of a surprise, or is your brain working enough to remind yourself.” She taunted, not yet moving to sit down on the couch and collect you into her embrace, and it was then you realized that she still needed to go and collect the waters from the kitchen. “Eat. If half of that slice is gone by time I get back, maybe I’ll throw you a bone.” 

Wanda laughed at your deep frown, but she made no other comments that would’ve gotten you into hot water with Natasha when you inevitably quipped back at her. You aggressively grabbed the slice from the plate, biting off more than you could comfortably chew just as a means of expressing your annoyance. 

“Somebody’s fussy.” Natasha merely commented, and you sighed knowing she was right. She was always right, but it never made the pill any easier to swallow when she called you out. “How much sleep did you get last night?” She quizzed, and once again it felt like you were under interrogation as she looked up into her eyes and simultaneously felt Wanda’s gaze on the back of your head. 

“How many hours will you consider a reasonable amount?” You tried to wiggle your way out of trouble, but Natasha was unwilling to budge as she placed her hands on her hips. “Two.” You eventually admitted. “And I had four coffees. I never answered that question. But it wasn’t my fault, honest, Natty!” 

“And how would that not be your fault?” Natasha played your game, even if she so desperately wanted to march your ass up the stairs and make you go to bed right then and there. 

“I had to cover for my group partners for a stupid project that’s literally worth half of our grade! I don’t know how those fucking idiots have even made it this far without being kicked out. I’ve been reaching out to them all semester, but I couldn’t wait to finish it any more. It’s due next week and every time I emailed the professor she just told me to wait a little longer because I still had time before it was due. I left them parts to do so that they could get some credit at least, that was a fucking mistake.” You seethed, your jaw locked as you recounted the events of last night that had definitely ended with you crying yourself to sleep out of sheer frustration. 

“Detka.” Surprisingly, it was Wanda’s voice that called out to you, and you turned to face her with unbridled tears in your eyes. “You are not responsible for the academics of others who do not wish to put in the same amount of effort as you. It was very nice that you tried to save their asses, but if I hear that you sacrificed your own wellbeing again, you will have to deal with me. Not Natasha, and not your professors. Is that understood?” 

You knew that Wanda could punish you if she really wanted to. Natasha had made that clear when you’d been filling out the contract. As much as you were only her submissive, you’d agreed to her proposition of letting Wanda deal with you if she saw fit, and clearly, this was an instance where both of them agreed because Natasha didn’t offer a single defense in your favor. Wanda had never threatened to punish you, not seriously at least, it was more or less just banter between two dominants who sought out different things in a submissive, but now she was beyond serious and your cheeks flushed at the scolding. Your typical snarky response attitude fell away in an instance, leaving only a pliant submissive in the place where sarcasm usually filled. You tested Wanda. You pushed her buttons and bit back at her when she dangled bait in front of your face, but it was always Wanda that you fought with, the woman Natasha married, not the dominant you knew that she was both inside and outside of the bedroom. You had enough respect for her to address her with obedience now, even if you tried to tell yourself you hated her guts. 

“Yes, ma’am.” You whispered, dropping your gaze to your trembling hands in your lap. “I only tried to help them. My professor kept telling me everything was okay.” 

“Your professor is an idiot, and if she doesn’t fail your partners when you tell her that they did nothing to help you, which you will tell her next time you have class, I will deal with her myself. Is that understood, little one?” Wanda’s hand reached out to capture your chin, and although you wanted to flinch away from her touch, scared that it would burn you if that was at all possible, you allowed her to redirect your stare until you were looking into her worried and angered eyes. 

“Yes.” You deflated, hating that your peaceful evening had turned into this. “Can we just drop it? Please? I don’t want to talk about school.” 

“You’ve had a long couple of days, haven’t you?” Natasha cooed sweetly, understanding what you needed even if you hadn’t explicitly asked for it. You wanted to shut your brain off and just surrender yourself to her. You wanted her to take control, you wanted her to make the decisions, and she was more than happy to comply with that request. 

“The longest.” You sighed out, leaning into her touch when she reached a hand out and gently cradled your face. “I didn’t want to be naughty. I didn’t think I was being naughty.” 

“I never laid out academic expectations, you have no reason to feel guilty about breaking a rule you didn’t know existed. You know now, and will you do it again?” Natasha asked softly, getting down on her knees in front of you and softly wiping the pads of her thumbs against your cheeks, wiping away tears that hadn’t yet fallen. 

“No.” You shook your head, an admission that you couldn’t stop from forming on the tip of your tongue. “Wanda’s scary.” 

Natasha laughed at your statement, but she nodded her head softly, not disagreeing with you. She had been on the receiving end of Wanda’s scolding one too many times, and she knew just how threatening it could be. If you thought she was scary now, when she was admittedly being very soft and patient with you, Natasha knew you’d be a gonner the second you actually did anything to piss her off. “She is pretty scary, huh? But it’s only because she cares about you, even though you like to act like a little brat whenever she’s around. You’re a cute brat.” 

“Natalia.” Wanda’s sharp tone caught both of your attention, and subconsciously you leaned in closer to Natasha as if she could protect you from her wife. “Do not encourage her.” 

Natasha cracked a small goofy smile that had you giggling, your guilt and upset long forgotten as you leaned forward to kiss her nose the same way she did to you. “Eat your pizza, baby. I’ll show you the surprise after, okay?” 

“Okay.” You agreed, letting her stand and retreat back to the kitchen to collect the water she would undeniably make you drink entirely. “I’m a cute brat.” You looked back at Wanda, repeating Natasha’s words that would definitely get you in trouble at a later date, but for tonight, Wanda allowed you to feel content with the admission, not wanting to see any more tears in your eyes. She would never tell you, but seeing you upset broke her heart just as much as it did when she saw Natasha upset.

“I am not above spanking a cute brats ass until it’s sore for a week, but yes, you are a very cute brat.” Wanda laughed, not missing the way your eyes bulged out of your head and you quickly distracted yourself with another bite of pizza. 

When pizza was eaten and a significant amount of water was drunk, Natasha kept her promise of showing you to your surprise. Wanda didn’t trail along with you, more than content to let you have a moment alone with the woman you would miss unbearably by this time tomorrow. You held onto Natasha’s hand as she guided you down the upstairs hallway, practically bouncing on your toes as she took her sweet time. 

“Why are we going in here? It’s empty.” You frowned when Natasha abruptly stopped walking and instead stood still in front of the third door on the left; the last door on this side of the hallway. The first two doors led to rooms you knew well, although Wanda’s office was significantly less explored then Natasha’s, you’d still been in there a handful of times when your dominant asked you to place some paperwork on her desk. 

“Finals are coming up, and I know you hate working in the library because college kids don’t know the definition of quiet.” Natasha began, her hand not yet reaching for the gold doorknob. The suspense was killing you, and she seemed to take great pleasure in that fact. “I thought you would like to have a space where you can come and do your work, or just decompress if you need to. Well, it was actually Wanda’s idea, but she thought you’d hate it if she knew it was her suggestion, so don’t tell her I told you.”  

“My lips are sealed.” You giggled, keeping your voice low and hushed, though you were absolutely certain Wanda could hear the both of you perfectly clear despite your mutual efforts to be sneaky. The woman had a strange sixth sense for knowing when you and Natasha were causing trouble, but this time it was at least a good trouble. 

“You have your key. I want you to use it when I’m gone, even if Wanda’s home and you think she won’t want to see you. This might not be your home, but you are welcome at all hours of the day and night.” Natasha kissed the side of your head gently before she reached out for the doorknob and gently led you inside, flicking on the lights when both of you were inside of the room. 

The plain white walls that you were used to were now adorned in all kinds of photographs and prints. Some of the pieces displayed were photographs of you and Natasha that you didn’t even know existed, but some were posters of your favorite places and artists that only someone who paid careful attention would know. You’d droned on and on about Scotland and Moscow one night with Natasha, and you hadn’t expected her to really be listening, nor remember the exact locations mentioned, but the scenic photographs of your favorite towns and cities proved that she had been and that she did. There were little knick knacks and trinkets on the bookshelf toward the back of the room, and your eyes quickly spotted a figurine of a whimsical fairy placed right beside your favorite children's book that brought you comfort on long days. There was greenery in almost every corner of the room. A succulent sitting on your desk with prickly beige spikes adorning its thickest section. You giggled at the pot of choice, approaching it slowly as if you weren’t allowed to touch it. The entire room was magnificent and so perfectly you, you didn’t even know how to express your gratitude.

“This is amazing, Nat.” You breathed out in wonder, sweeping the tips of your fingers along the potted cactus. The pot was a nude color, notably the same shade of pale as Natasha’s skin in the wintertime, and the painted nipples on the pot were comically small and pink. You knew that she’d been the one to pick out that pot, and you could almost imagine Wanda’s exasperation when she’d been shown it. “How much of a fuss did Wanda put up about the pot?” You giggled. 

“Oh she made me cook dinner for three days after that purchase. Something about me being ‘incredibly childish and needing to learn how an adult acts’. I know she likes it though. There’s a matching one in our bathroom.” Natasha’s smirk was smug, and you desperately wanted to kiss it off her face, but you were frozen in place when you realized there was a desktop computer sitting in the middle of your desk that was identical to the one in both her and Wanda’s office. 

“Nat, you didn’t need to do this. This must have cost you a fortune.” Tears brimmed your eyes, but unlike before, they weren’t in the slightest bit sad. You crashed into her chest with a force that threatened to knock her on her ass, but she had maintained upright and had reciprocated the embrace with a tightness that only reminded you about her upcoming departure. “I’m going to miss you so much.”  

“Hey, look at me, angel.” Natasha gently guided your eyes to meet hers, and you were shocked to find that they were just as glassy as your own. Maybe Wanda was telling you the truth when she said Natasha was just as upset about the business trip as you are. “I’ll be back in three hundred and thirty six hours, and then I’m not leaving for the rest of summer. You have me for three full months, can you be my strong girl for two weeks?” 

“Only if you promise that you won't have any fun while you’re gone. And that you’ll drink a pina colada for me, straight out of a coconut, with a pink bendy straw and a little umbrella.” Natasha laughed at your petulant proposition, but she extended her pinky finger in the same childish fashion. 

“I pinky promise I won’t have any fun. It’ll be impossible to have any fun without you, detka.” She whispered, leaning forward to brush her lips against your forehead. “And I pinky promise to drink a pina colada straight out of a coconut with a pink bendy straw and a little umbrella just for you.” 

“I can be your strong girl then.” You wrapped your pinky around hers, pulling your entangled fingers close to kiss them softly and lock in the promise. “I wish you didn’t have to leave.” 

“I wish I didn’t have to leave either, but it’s my turn to be the big scary boss lady. And, you’ll have this space to come to if you miss me. There might be a couple of other surprises laying around, but I want you to find them in your own time, okay?” 

“No super sneaky peeking around.” You agreed, cracking a genuine smile up at her. “Can we go watch the movie now? Wanda hasn’t complained about seeing Cars in a while.” 

“Are you ever going to let her have a moment of peace?” Natasha laughed at your cheeky expression, smoothing it down with a lingering kiss that was nothing but sweet. 

“Absolutely not.” You giggled, already peeling away from her body and making a mad dash down the stairs and toward the living room, knowing that she’d be right behind you. 

-

A fire in your lower belly is the sensation that eventually pulls you from sleep, though the blinding presence of morning sunshine is a close second. It takes only three seconds for you to realize that your hips are pinned to the soft mattress beneath your weight, incapacitating you from attempting to stretch like a newborn kitten, it takes you a further three seconds to realize that the fire in your core was not a result of a wet dream you couldn’t remember, but rather Natasha’s tongue and fingers as she worked you open. 

You gasped at a particularly harsh thrust, her fingers curling into your pussy with a vengeance, seeking out that soft spot within your walls that made your eyes roll each and every time she abused it. If you weren’t so disoriented from sleep, you would’ve had the decency to feel embarrassed about the wet squelching sounds that Natasha draws from your cunt every time she snaps her wrist back toward your mound, but there's no time to think about how desperate your body is for her touch even when asleep. 

“Daddy!” You cry out, your back arching off the bed, attempting to push yourself closer to her face and seek out a deeper pressure on your clit that's being worked over with practiced ease. You briefly wonder how long she’s been between your legs, but it's not a thought that stays longer than a fleeting single second before you're being distracted by her nails digging into your thigh wit the hand thats not fucking your desperate hole. “Please! Fuck!” 

Natasha moans against your pussy, and it’s only when you raise your head to see her clearly that you realize that there's a vibrator clenched between her own naked thighs and she’s actively chasing her own high, her hips rocking against the bulbous head of the purple toy you have a love-hate relationship with. Your fingers reach down to grab at her auburn hair, pulling her closer to where you need her most, begging her to fix the mess that she single-handedly created. 

You can feel the coil growing in your stomach, getting tighter and tighter with each pass of her tongue against your throbbing clit. You come undone so quickly for her, there’s no telling if she’s been between your thighs for mere minutes or entire hours, but the sensation of sunlight against your face tells you that it’s at least ten in the morning, and Natasha’s an early riser, so you know that if anything, she’s been edging you for at least an hour so successfully that you hadn’t even stirred. 

Her lips pull away from your clit far too soon for your liking, and the hill that you’d been climbing slowly starts to fall despite the fingers still practicing a punishing pace as they disappear into your most intimate part. “Do you know how many sweet orgasms Daddy has stolen from you, Princess? Do you know how sweetly you moan when you're still asleep?” 

“Fuck, Daddy, please!” You cry out in desperation, writhing on the bed before her free hand leaves your thigh and reclaims its position against your hips, effectively stilling your movements and leaving you to just accept what she gives you. 

“Five. Daddy’s edged you five times. You must’ve been so sleepy, baby girl. Do you feel all rested now?” She teases, and her mouth is so close to your pussy that you can feel the vibration of her words against your clit. She wont start up again until you’ve answered her, but there's not a single coherent sentence in your brain at the moment. Your senses and thoughts are consumed with one thing; her. “Hm, do you feel better now, baby? You were so tired last night you didn’t even make a fuss when Wanda carried you to bed.”

Your face flushes in embarrassment as you learn about who had been the one to tuck you in so tenderly. You remember red hair and soft lips as they kissed your forehead, you remember a gentle hand brushing against your cheeks as you whined for them to stay with you, but it hadn’t registered that it was Wanda who carried you upstairs and not Natasha. 

“Y-Yes, yes I feel better, now please! P-Please Daddy, make me cum! Let me cum!” You sob rather pathetically, but you're too lost in pleasure to care about how needy you come across. Your fingers that are still threaded into her hair attempt to pull her lips back to your clit and she lets you. If she didn’t want you winning, you know she could’ve easily resisted your grip, but there's something so satisfying about believing that you’ve overpowered Natasha Maximoff. 

“Thought you’d never ask.” Natasha hums against your clit, devouring your pussy with purpose. She’s not wasting time on pleasantries, you suppose she’s already done enough of that, and her tongue sets a punishing pace in tune with her fingers as she circles and flicks at your clit with the very opposite of kitten licks like you know she loves to tease you with. 

“Oh! Oh!” You cry out, an orgasm approaching you, but unlike earlier, Natasha doesn’t pull away and she doesn’t slow down, if anything, she picks up speed and hammers into your pussy so harshly you know you’ll be feeling these lingering touches for days afterward. You can’t bring it upon yourself to care though, and your hips attempt to meet her thrusts. “Please! Please!” 

“Hold it.” Natasha sounds desperate herself, and it's only when she increases the speed of the vibrator that you realize what she wants. She wants to cum together. She’s leaving today, in less than two hours, but she’s taking the time to be with you rather than packing her carry-on, and on top of that, she wants to cum together. You're drowning in adoration, blinded by pleasure, completely surrendering yourself to her and whatever she deems you worthy of receiving. “Just a little more, Daddy’s so close, baby. Gonna cum with Daddy? You gonna cum all over Daddy’s face and let her taste you before she leaves? Gonna let me remember the taste of your sweet pussy before I leave for the airport?”

“Please! Please, I want to cum for you!” You cry out, your blunt nails clawing at the skin of her neck and shoulders as you feel yourself beginning to crash over that blissful edge of satisfaction. Natasha doesn’t stop you this time, and with the slightest signal of permission as her fingers tap twice on your belly, you fall over that edge and gush around her fingers. 

“Good girl.” She coos, her breath caught in her throat as she comes down from her own high, wiggling away from the vibrator when the sensations become too much against her sensitive clit. “Such a good girl for me.” She praises you, rewarding you with a soft kiss against your throbbing clit. “Shh, let Daddy clean you up.” Natasha hums, pulling her fingers out of your pussy and replacing them with her tongue. You reach for her hand, knowing how much it drives her crazy when you suck your orgasm off of her fingers, and right now, you’re more than willing to please her in that way. Your tongue rolls between her knuckles, your teeth gently nibbling at her skin. You can barely feel her tongue cleaning you up as you devote yourself to her fingers, but you know she’s satisfied when she leans overtop of you and kisses you slowly, her lips damp with your arousal. 

“Morning, Natty.” You whisper shyly, threading your fingers through her hair in a much nicer manner now that you’re not desperate for release. She smiles and mumbles the same greeting against your lips, and though you can taste yourself on her tongue, you can also taste Wanda, and you have a feeling the Sokovian lawyer in the room just next door was woken up in the same fashion. “Can taste Wanda on you.” You giggle softly, shoving her away from you in favor of cuddling up into her chest and making the most of the next hour and a half. 

“She’s sweet, isn’t she?” Natasha teases, her fingers, still damp from your mouth, trace the smooth embellishments on your cheeks. She adores all of your imperfections, she’s guilty of running her thumb across the jagged scar on your hip whenever you wear shirts short enough to reveal the blemished skin, but something about her right now is so different then the many other times you’ve been in this position. You never want to leave her embrace but you know that you have to. You hate that you have to. “Wanda’s making breakfast. I have time for some coffee and pancakes before my flight.” 

“I don’t want you to leave. I can fit in your suitcase if I really try, I’m sure of it.” You plead with her, but despite her wanting to see you try, she shakes her head and kisses away the pout on your lips. 

“I think that counts as human trafficking. I might be the best lawyer in the world, but even I don’t have a good enough defense to get me out of those charges.” She teases, pulling you into an upright position so you won't fall asleep on her like you want to. 

“Piggyback down the stairs?” You question, rubbing your eyes with closed fists, another one of your habits that both Natasha and Wanda hate, but she doesn’t reprimand you today. 

“Of course, darling. Put your shorts back on and then I’ll bring you down.” Natasha kisses you one last time before she gently forces you off the guest bed and onto your own feet. You make quick work of redressing, forgoing the purple panties you had initially worn over last night, knowing that if she’d taken the time to edge you five times before you’d even woken up, that they were surely drenched and in need of multiple washes. Better yet, you might as well just throw them out. 

You clamber onto her back with a smile on your lips the second your shorts are back into place, giggling manically when she jostles you around and makes a show of running down the stairs two at a time, much to Wanda’s displeasure. Your sensitive core rubs against the seam of your pajama shorts and the muscles in her back, but you pay the tickling sensations no mind, desperate to just enjoy these last few moments in her company to the best of your abilities. 

“Do you still have a voice, malen’kiy? I’m pretty sure the neighbors heard you.” Wanda teased the second you and Natasha entered the kitchen, bringing an immediate scowl to your face. You kicked your foot out in her direction, knowing you’d miss but just wanting to retaliate in some way. “Do not act up with me, little one. Natasha can’t save you when she leaves.” 

“Don’t be a meanie then!” You stuck your tongue out at her, hardly realizing the grave you were digging for yourself. Tensions were high with the promise of Natasha leaving, there was no real malice behind your jabs, but just as your emotions were unruly, Wanda’s patience was thin. Your eyes went wide when she suddenly appeared so much closer than you remembered her being, and you anticipated her next move before she’d even acted, but unfortunately for you, you hadn’t been quick enough to pull your tongue back into the safety of your mouth before Wanda was pinching it between her thumb and pointer finger.  

“I understand you’re upset, but I will not tolerate this disobedience. If you want to join us for breakfast, you will knock it off now, otherwise I have no problem making you a plate and sending you to eat in the living room by yourself. Is that what you want, milyy?” You shook your head, but quickly regretted the decision when you remembered Wanda still held your tongue firmly. You whined, batting her hands away from your face but she was unrelenting, and if anything, her grip only got tighter. “If I see that tongue out again, you’re not going to like what happens.” She warned, and even though you wanted to call her bluff, Natasha’s tight grip on your ankles told you that was not a fire you wanted to play with today. 

You whined, thankful that she had stopped holding your tongue captive and had walked back toward the stove, but now you were left with the sickest feeling of embarrassment crawling up your spine. For as bratty as you tended to be, you hated being scolded. You attempted to hide away in Natasha’s neck, but Wanda seemed to have grown a third eye and was quick to reprimand your fleeting attempts to worm your way into Natasha’s good graces. 

“You do not get to hide. You wanted to be a brat, you can deal with the embarrassment of being reprimanded. If I’ve told you once, I’ve told you a million times, I am not as lenient as my wife, and I do not tolerate disobedience. Fix your pout, go sit down at the table, and wait quietly for me to finish your eggs.” Wanda pointed toward the already set table with her spatula, only briefly glancing back at you when she made the effort to reach for the salt and pepper shakers. 

“Wanna stay with Natty.” You pleaded quietly, not attempting to hide your face again, but still holding tightly onto your dominant who would be leaving for the airport in forty minutes. You didn’t even have a full hour left anymore. 

“I’ll be right there, go sit down. It’s okay, you’re okay.” Natasha lowered you onto the ground, softly kissing your temple before she patted your bottom and guided your shoulders in the direction of the table just beyond the threshold of the kitchen. Wanda and Natasha were the only people you know that actively used their dining room for every meal they ate together. They even had a breakfast nook in the corner of the kitchen with pretty blue placemats and a vase of fresh flowers as a centerpiece, but on the nights that you slept over, you’ve never even seen so much as a book be left on the table. 

You sighed, doing as was asked of you, if only for a handful of minutes before you headed straight back toward the kitchen. You could hear their whispered voices even from where you were meant to be sitting at the table, but what they were saying was practically indistinguishable. They were too far away and far too quiet to make out clearly, but you hoped it wasn’t about you. You hoped that you hadn’t completely ruined Natasha’s last morning at home before her business trip. You sighed softly, deciding against ignoring your anxiety, and slowly approached them again, your hands clasped in front of you. As much as you wanted to run straight toward Natasha and have her hold you, your eyes were trained on Wanda, waiting for her to notice your presence, though you knew she already had. Maybe she was waiting for you to make the first move, or maybe she was ignoring you because she thought you were deliberately disobeying her. She wasn’t your dominant, she wasn’t anything to you, not really at least, but somehow it felt wrong to disobey her so directly.  

“What is it, detka? Wanda asked you to sit at the table, did she not?” Natasha decided to throw you a bone after it was made clear that neither you nor Wanda were going to make the first move. You were both far too stubborn for your own good, but luckily enough, you had her to bridge the gap when neither of you were willing to give an inch. 

Your eyes flickered between both Natasha and Wanda, and softly, so softly, you found the strength to apologize. “M’sorry, Wanda.” You admitted weakly, looking down at your naked feet in a lash ditch effort to avoid her strong stare, not wanting to see her face if she decided to reject your apology and send you away again. “C-Can I stay here?” 

“Come here.” Wanda sighed softly, and you faintly recognized the sound of the spatula being set down and placed on the countertop. When you looked up from your feet, still avoiding Wanda’s eye but no longer trying to make yourself seem small, you noticed that the eggs were done cooking, piled up onto a serving plate and resting near a pitcher of orange juice that you had no doubt was freshly squeezed and organic from the local farmers market, though it lacked pulp much to your delight. Natasha was a freak when it came to how she liked her orange juice, but you were glad to see that at least somebody who permanently occupied a space in this house had some sanity. “I didn’t send you over there as a punishment, detka. You needed to breathe, and now that you have, you feel better don’t you?” 

You nodded your head, because admittedly you did feel a little bit better now that you had taken a couple of minutes to put space between yourself and Wanda and all the big sad feelings you had no choice but to shuffle through. You still wrung your fingers together and looked everywhere but Wanda’s eye, but you definitely felt better. You could see Natasha’s smile in your peripheral vision, and you exhaled softly at the confirmation that you hadn’t completely ruined everything, another weight falling off of your shoulders. 

“Did being over there make you anxious because you could hear us talking and you thought it was about you?” Wanda tested the waters, and your head snapped up to look at her with pure bewilderment in your expression. “Aren’t you the one who calls me a witch, shouldn’t you expect for me to know everything that goes on in that pretty little head?” 

“Yeah.” You grimaced slightly. You didn’t know she had caught onto your less than creative nickname for her, but apparently she had and had just accepted it without complaint, or maybe she had complained to Natasha, but she wasn’t saying anything to you about it now. You felt bad, not normally someone who resorted to name calling when you were around someone you didn’t like, but Wanda just made you so… annoyed, for lack of a better adjective.  

“Good job recognizing that.” She praised you lightly, and as much as you didn’t want to, you glowed beneath her positive attention, your eyes flickering to Natasha as if to ask her if she was actually hearing the same thing as you. The auburn-haired woman laughed at your expression, merely shaking her head and shrugging her shoulders. “Ah, not looking at Natasha, looking at me. Good girl.” Wanda gently scolded, and your cheeks flushed at her continuous praise. If someone would've told you that when you’d gotten into this situation that Wanda would be the one dishing out praise while Natasha stood silently on the sidelines, you would’ve laughed in their face. “Come here, I made Natty and I’s pancakes, but you can make yours.” 

“I can help?” You light up at the suggestion, eager to get your hands on the bowl of batter that was waiting on the side of the stove, and you definitely spotted chocolate chips sitting right beside it. Neither Wanda nor Natasha had any specs of brown on their breakfast, so you wondered if those had been taken down just for you. 

“If you promise not to splash batter everywhere.” Wanda hummed, and her eyes flickered briefly over to Natasha who was less than amused at the unneeded comment. 

“It was one time! And it was your fault! Who comes up behind someone in the middle of making pancakes!” Natasha exclaimed in playful exasperation, though her wide smile betrayed her faux annoyance. 

“And what is throwing pancake batter going to do if I had been the intruder you claimed to think I was? Was your plan to avoid being murdered by offering them a nice homemade breakfast?” Wanda rolled her eyes, pressing a kiss to Natasha’s cheek before she focused her attention back to you. “Bring the eggs to the table, Natasha.” 

“Bring the eggs to the table, Natasha. Wash my car in the middle of a snowstorm, Natasha. Find a way to make elephants purple, Natasha.” The woman droned on in an accent similar to Wanda’s, though there was a distinguishable difference in her tone. With her Russian roots, she couldn’t quite master the Sokovian accent, but she certainly tried her best. Her mocking was more or less ignored, though Wanda did threateningly snap a dish towel in her direction and wordlessly pointed toward the dining room. “I thought this was my going away breakfast and yet I’m being put to work.” 

“You have thirty minutes to eat, and unless you’d like me to let you get on a plane starving, you’ll do as I ask.” Wanda rolled her eyes, but her attention was no longer on her dramatic wife. Instead, she was entirely focused on you and guiding you through the motions of pouring the remaining pancake batter into the already hot and sizzling pan. You giggled when the smallest bit of batter splattered out of the pan, landing on the skin of your hand though you were grateful it wasn’t yet hot.

“Can I put chocolate chips in it?” You bounced on your toes excitedly, already reaching for the bag despite not yet having Wanda’s permission. Natasha was strictly against you eating sugary things for breakfast when you had classes to focus on, but it seems Wanda didn’t share the same concerns, because she hummed her approval seconds before your hand dipped into the bag. 

“Do you want some pancake with your chocolate, honey?” Wanda laughed, and for once, you didn’t get offended by her teasing, just craned your neck and offered her the brightest smile you could muster. “If you can’t pay attention in class today, we will not be having chocolate chip pancakes on weekdays again. Got it, dove?” 

“Got it!” You giggled, not really paying attention to her anyways. You were entirely too busy making sure that your single pancake didn’t burn as a result of the too high heat and combined culinary negligence, though every couple of seconds you snuck a handful of chocolate chips into your mouth and hummed as they melted on your tongue. They bought the good chocolate, that shouldn’t have surprised you. 

“I can see you, you are aware of that, aren’t you?” Wanda laughed, but there was no bite to her taunt, and again you found that it didn’t bother you like it usually did. If she had wanted you to stop eating the chocolate chips, she would’ve asked you to, but she quite enjoyed seeing you so carefree and happy with the ongoing promise of Natasha’s departure looming heavily in the air around you both. 

“Do you want one?” You replied coyly, holding up your hand for her to see. There was in fact a singular chocolate chip pinched between your fingers, and while Wanda wanted to roll her eyes and remind you that she had been the one to purchase them in the first place, she settled for simply accepting your offer. Her way of accepting your offer however, had not been what you’d had in mind, and you’d flinched in shock when her teeth grazed the knuckles of your fingers and her tongue corralled the single piece of chocolate into her mouth. “That– That is not what I meant!” You blushed a ferocious shade of red, quickly turning back around and focusing your attention on the pancake that had finally finished cooking. 

“Stop teasing her, Wands!” Natasha’s voice called out from the dinning room where she had remained throughout the entire ordeal, but you could hear the amusement in her tone and wondered if she could see the both of you from wherever she was standing. 

“Yeah, Wands.” You giggled, poking your tongue out at the lawyer before you remembered her earlier words and your face dropped. “Sorry!” 

“She stuck her tongue out at you again, didn’t she?” Natasha’s voice filled your ears, and the sound of her laughter followed shortly after, but you were too mortified to smile at the sound. You turned around to look at Wanda nervously, noting that her hands were on her hips and her perfectly manicured nails glimmered beneath the bright lighting and unfiltered sunlight. Her eyebrow was quirked perfectly, and you wondered how long she had practiced that expression until she was sure it was perfect. She had her intimidation tactics down pat, but you supposed that came with owning the world's most successful law firm.  

“Sorry! I really didn’t mean to!” You pleaded with her to believe you, knowing that the time you could spend with Natasha was slowly dwindling, and you really did not want to spend the last few minutes of contact with Wanda mad at you. 

The stern expression on the lawyer's face melted away like it had never been there in the first place, and Wanda laughed so sweetly you were almost absolutely certain that you’d somehow missed a joke Natasha murmured from the dining room. You pouted in confusion, digging your toe into the hardwood floor and flickering your gaze down to watch. 

“You’re fine, detka. Thank you for apologizing, but I know you were just teasing, huh?” She smiled, lifting your chin to meet your gaze. She kissed your forehead, something she had only ever done when you were half-asleep or entirely fucked out, but you couldn’t deny, even though you desperately wanted to, that it felt nice, comforting even. “Get those pancakes into the dining room before they get cold. Natty only has a couple more minutes before her driver gets here.” 

And once again you were faced with the unavoidable truth. Natasha was leaving for fourteen days and there was nothing you could do to stop it. 

-

The first five days without Natasha had gone as well as had been expected, though you would say you were faring significantly better than she’d ever anticipated. Even Wanda, who you had seen a handful of times throughout the week when you escaped to the Maximoff residence to work in your newly established office, had been surprised at your composure. The older woman of the couple had never been away for so long, usually capping her trips at three to five days, and even that was challenging for you to accept in the beginning of your relationship, but you were handling the distance well and with pride, being her strong girl like you’d promised to be. You talked daily, and though you didn’t hear her voice as much as you would like, she’d made the time to FaceTime twice so far. Just because she didn’t have the time to call didn’t mean you missed out completely on what activities she was up to though. She made sure to send you plenty of pictures of the scenery, and you’d all but gushed over the resort she was staying at when she sent you a picture of the sunset from her room. There were at least twenty pictures of Bahama sunrises in your camera roll now, but your favorite pictures were the ones you got at random throughout the day that were nonsensical and entirely her. She sent you pictures of her outfits and of her drinks when she managed to escape to the bar after whatever meetings had given her a headache. She’d managed to get her hands on a pina colada in a coconut on the second day of her trip, and although the bendy straw was yellow not pink, you forgave her and asked how it was. Your most favorite pictures however, were the ones of her notes. You’d expected the CEO of a successful law firm to take detailed and attentive notes, but every time she sent you a picture of her notebook, the pages were filled with random doodles of flowers and stick people, and yours and Wanda’s name in different squiggly styles. You held those closest to your chest, because even if you were just her submissive, she was thinking about you the same way she was thinking about Wanda, her wife. 

Your academic workload hadn’t lightened in the last five days, but you’d been juggling classes and routine well, somehow managing to balance studying and homework as seamlessly as anyone who made the decision to overload in a Spring semester could manage. You had hours of homework a night, research papers and historical annotations never giving you a break, but the end was in sight, and for a while, that simple fact had been enough to keep you pushing through. You knew Natasha would be proud of your grades at the end of the semester, and you had been anticipating the praise and reward she was sure to provide, but that all came crashing down after your last lecture of the night. Your professor, Sharan Carter, had berated you for your complaints about your group project, but not only that, she had failed you. Her reasoning had been that you did not adhere to the guidelines of the assignment, claiming that you made no effort to work alongside your partners, and even though she had a small novel of proof in her email history that debunked that accusation, she hadn’t wanted to hear your side of the story, and had sent you out of her office with the dismissive shake of her head. 

All you had wanted in that moment of shame and defeat was Natasha, and although you knew she was over a thousand miles away on a tropical island, probably stiff as a board in some multi-hour meeting that she had no real care for, you had gotten in your car and driven straight to the Maximoff residence. Your hands were trembling at your sides, and it would appear to anyone who even glanced at you too quickly that you’d been caught in a sporadic storm with how damp your cheeks were from the tears that defied your attempts to keep them at bay. Your hands were trembling so violently that you couldn’t get the key in the hole, and dissimilar from how the front door remained unlocked until lights out when Natasha was home, you found that Wanda was in the habit of locking it each and every time she left and entered. The thought of the Sokovian lawyer made a sob crawl past your lips, and feverishly you knocked on the door, hoping she could hear you from wherever she was in the house. You didn’t care about how you were supposed to hate her. You didn’t care about the rivalry that existed between the two of you, though it was slowly becoming an afterthought as the days passed. She was the only source of comfort you had right now, and as you waited on the porch, shaking like a leaf in the middle of a hurricane, you yearned for her touch and her citrusy scent. 

When the door opened, and the quickest glimpse of Wanda’s burgundy hair flashed before your eyes, there wasn’t a second of hesitation that crossed your mind before you stepped past the threshold of where their porch met the entryway and dug yourself into the lawyer’s chest, desperately clutching at her t-shirt. Agonizing sobs further shake your already trembling body, and you barely recognize the weight of her hands slinking around your waist and drawing you in closer to her chest as you finally let yourself fall apart completely. 

“S-She failed me.” You sobbed into Wanda’s arms, acutely aware of how silly you probably came across to the businesswoman as you allowed yourself to become so distraught over something as trivial as a project grade, but the combination of academic failure and Natasha’s absence had entirely demolished your reserve. “A-And you told me to t-tell you if she didn’t listen to me! So I am! I did! I’m telling you! A-And Natty’s not here, and I’m so tired, and she failed me and it dropped my entire semester grade to a D! A-And I just, I just wanted Nat, and I don’t even know why I came because I know she’s not here, b-but then I got here and I just wanted you, and-and-and-” 

“Shh,” Wanda soothed you gently, effectively stopping you from working yourself up even further than she thought possible with your practically incomprehensible rambling and heartbreaking tears. Her gentle hands rub patterns onto your back that you were only vaguely aware of in your state of upset, but eventually the combination of her physical presence and dull beating of her heart in your ear calms you down enough to allow you to suck in a sharp gasp of air. “You’re okay. You’re okay, sweetheart. Just take a deep breath for me, okay? Good girl.” 

You melted into Wanda’s embrace as she continued to hold you tight, one of her ringed hands eventually trailing up your spine until it found a home at the back of your head. She pressed your face into her neck, not caring about how your wet cheeks made her skin damp and sticky, just wanting to keep you close until she was absolutely certain that you had calmed down enough to breathe normally. Even if you hadn’t realized how close you were to tipping over the edge and into a full episode of panic, Wanda had, and it scared her half to death to see you so distraught and beside yourself. Up until this very moment, she’d never even considered how she would miss your sarcastic quips and ruthless banter, but opening her front door to find you a mere shell of the woman you usually were had been horrifying and not something she ever wanted to relive. 

Eventually, you pulled away from her embrace, wanting to wipe your cheeks free of tear tracks and mascara, and desperate to breathe in the fresh scent of blossoming spring that surrounded the suburban roads of Westview. Wanda smelled heavenly, she was positively addicting with her coconut mandarin mix, but fresh air was non negotiable in your current state, and greedily you breathed in through your nose deeply until that suffocating feeling in your chest became a simple buzz. It was then that you realized Wanda was wearing her blue light glasses, and your gut clenched in guilt, realizing that she’d been working up until your little meltdown.  

“Fuck, you were working. I’m sorry.” You apologized quickly, a fresh onslaught of tears brimming your eyes. You couldn’t seem to do anything right today, and so desperately you wished that Natasha were here to make it all better, despite knowing the luck of your day had nothing to do with the physical presence of one single person. 

“No more tears. No more tears, detka.” Wanda coaxes you farther into the house, not allowing you to back away and retreat toward your car like you’d been attempting to do since realization sunk in. “Nat told you to come over whenever, I’m glad you remembered that. I know I’m not Natasha, sweet girl. I wish I could bring her back for you, but for right now, why don’t you tell me what you need, hm? Can you do that?” 

“You’re working. It’s important if you're working at home this late.” You whispered shamefully, not wanting to be the reason Wanda falls behind on deadlines. You know it’s her company and she can do whatever she damn well pleases, pushing off a few measly emails included in that long list of possibilities, but you would feel horrible if your childish breakdown caused more work and stress for both her and Natasha in the future. 

“It is important, you’re right about that, malysh. Darcy fucked up big time with a client, and now I need to fix her mess before they ask for her release, and I won’t be able to argue with them if it comes to that, but nothing is more important then your wellbeing, so can you talk me through what you need?” Wanda gently cupped your cheeks in the same manner that Natasha usually does when you're in this state, and you felt a pang of sadness rush through you as you realized the true extent of how much you missed her. You’d been pushing off the sadness and grief that came with her absence, but you couldn’t avoid it forever, and apparently it had decided to catch up with you now. 

“Water. Natty always makes me drink water after and she… she holds me.” You admitted shyly, afraid of Wanda’s reaction to what you were indirectly asking of her, but all she did was smile at you reassuringly and lead you in toward the kitchen, the wide open front door forgotten about for a few short moments. 

Wanda makes quick work of filling a glass for you, not letting go of your hand for more than a necessary second throughout the entire process, for which you were grateful. You were absolutely certain that if she let go now, you’d spiral back down into that isolating pit of never ending thoughts. She pours herself a glass as well, though hers is taller than yours. She takes a sip before motioning for you to do the same, watching you intently over the rim of her glasses that have started to slip down the bridge of her nose. The cold water feels marvelous on your throat when you finally raise the glass to your lips and take a small sip, having not realized how scratchy and stiff it was as a result of your crying. 

“Would you like to sit in with me as I finish up with the paperwork?” Wanda questions you, her tone indicative of your freedom to decline her offer and ask for something else, but you wouldn’t even dream about saying no to her right now. 

“I can?” You asked meekly, shuffling on your feet nervously. 

“I wouldn’t have offered it if I wasn’t being truthful, dorogoy. I know you’re worried about me falling behind, so I figured I could hold you in my lap for a while until I finish up everything that needs to get done. Does that sound like a good plan?” Wanda checked in with you, her thumb rubbing comforting circles on your knuckles. Her touch on your hand is a stark contrast from how she’d last grabbed you when you were in the kitchen together, but it feels nice and you don’t ever want to pull away from it. 

“The front doors still open.” You remind her, and she laughs softly at your concern for the door, guiding you back into the living room and toward the entryway. She closes the door with a soft push, making sure that both locks are clicked before she even considers turning toward the stairs and leading you up toward her office. She may be a capable woman, but a home intruder felt like something she wasn’t quite qualified to deal with. 

“There, all better.” She smiled down at you, leaning in just close enough to brush her lips against your forehead. “Do you need anything else before we head up to my office? It might take a couple of hours before I have everything completed.” 

“No.” You decline her offer, shuffling closer into her embrace when you ultimately decided she was too far away. Your free hand was still holding onto the glass of water, and you were careful not to spill any of it as you moved.

“Okay then, bug. Let’s go.” She squeezed your hand tightly, slowly leading the way toward her office despite your familiarity with the route. You didn’t complain about her slow pace, taking the time to really admire the subtle details of her home that you overlooked when you were busy chasing Natasha around. 

The Maximoff residence was luxuriant and abundant to put it gently. There were large windows in both the kitchen and the living room that allowed sunlight to pour in at every hour of the day and coat the furniture in golden hues. There were subtle traces of both Wanda and Natasha’s separate personalities in the decor that filled bookshelves and countertops, but for the most part, their style blended together superbly. It wasn’t obnoxious or over-the-top, no, it was done so tastefully that you thought the interior of the house belonged in some high class magazine that showcased celebrity homes. The accents of black in their appliances and metal hardware that were undoubtedly Natasha’s doing, but you thought it fit perfectly with the presently white walls and light colored wood. Wanda had more to do with the furnishing if her office was any indication. While Natasha’s furniture was practical and bare, Wanda spared no expense in assuring her office was both functional and comfortable. Their subtle differences were what made them work as both romantic and business partners so well, and you hoped that one day you’d be lucky enough to find a love like theirs.  

“You still with me, sweetheart?” Wanda checked in, effectively drawing you out of your head that you’d somehow gotten lost in, but your thoughts weren’t unpleasant, and the ghost of a smile on your lips assured Wanda that you were fine. 

“Did Nat pick the black hardware?” You questioned softly, following Wanda as she stepped into her office and closed the door behind you both. 

The woman laughed at your question, having expected hardware to be the last thing on your mind, but she nodded her head. “She did. I wanted gold.” 

“I like it. I could tell she picked it. You picked the furniture.” You mumbled, glad to be talking about something other than your breakdown. You didn’t know what you expected when you originally sought Wanda out for comfort, but you were glad she was just rolling with the punches as they came. 

“Very attentive, little one. I did.” When she sat down in her office chair, setting her water down carefully a good few inches away from her keyboard, she turned to you expectantly, patting her lap with a silent invitation. She pried the glass of water from your grip, placing it next to hers, and you realized then that she had gotten down two different glasses on purpose. “Get comfy, we might be here a while.” 

You sank into her lap tentatively, unsure of how she liked to be held. You practically koala’d yourself around Natasha whenever she allowed you to keep her company in her office, but you’d never cuddled like this with Wanda before, and you didn’t want to make her feel suffocated with your clinginess. So instead, you settled for resting your cheek against her chest, the crown of your head tucked beneath her chin, and you kept your arms pinned between your chests. You could feel her every inhale as she breathed, and you quickly decided that you liked this position. 

“Before you get too sleepy, I need the name of your professor, malen’kiy.” Wanda rubbed your back with a heavy palm, making note of the fact that you seemed to have forgone a bra when getting dressed that morning. You were just like Natasha in that way, and she found a gentle smile gracing her features at the subtle similarities between the two of you. It was no wonder you fit together like a glove, you were practically replicas of each other in the little aspects of your interests and personalities. 

“Sharon Carter.” You mumbled, entirely too content to really care about how you were basically feeding the woman to wolves with your admission of her name. Wanda would rip her to shreds when she got her claws on her, you were sure of that fact, but she deserved it after the harsh and unnecessary comments she’d made. 

“Carter, huh.” There was something in Wanda’s tone that implied she was familiar with the woman, or at the very least her last name, but you didn’t care all that much about whatever was going through her head. 

“Shh.” You silenced her, snuggling deeper into her chest and clutching the hem of her t-shirt between your fingers, wanting to rest in silence for the next couple of hours. 

Amused with your antics, Wanda pressed a kiss to the top of your head before she got back to business, the only sound that filled the office was the rhythmic clicking of her keyboard as her fingers worked feverishly to resolve the issue that Darcy had created. It wasn’t even a full ten minutes before you were sound asleep against her chest, your deep and even breaths tickling the exposed skin of Wanda’s chest, but she didn’t care as long as you were feeling better. 

Your relationship shifted that night. It wasn’t perfect, not yet at least, but you couldn’t deny that Wanda had somehow wormed her way into your heart, or maybe, just maybe, she had always had a place in it to begin with.

[usedtobecooler]

it’s simple and it goes like this | steve harrington x reader

a/n: thank you in advance to anybody who reads this little labour of love, i’ve had such a great time writing this one and i’m so proud of the finished outcome. title from i’m in love with you by the 1975. 6.1k words.

tw: EXPLICIT CONTENT 18+ MINORS DNI, reader uses she/her pronouns and has female anatomy, piv sex, oral f receiving, creampie, soft sex, dirty talk. intoxicated characters, admission of feelings, angst and fluff. characters ages are around mid-late twenties.

summary: turning down a ride from your roommate and brotherly figure, eddie munson, in favor of staying behind at a christmas party ends in you finding an unexpected escape in steve harrington. a drive home and copious amounts of flirting later, the night unfolds in passion and letting out unspoken feelings, leaving you to grapple with the consequences of the choices made.

Staying behind at Jon and Nancy’s Christmas party had been a mistake, and only now, inhaling nicotine into your lungs without a clue on how to get back home, did you realize the weight of this mistake and how badly you wished you could rewind to an hour prior when you had a guaranteed ride.

Eddie offered you a ride home when he was heading out, which you declined immediately. His girl, Heather, really wasn’t overly keen on you, and would do anything to make the journey home as painfully awkward as possible.

You and Eddie had lived together for a few years now, the bond between you both knitting together so tightly, transcending more than just shared rent and somebody to talk to at night. He became your confidant, and you his, finding comfort in each other in a way that could only be described as a sibling bond. As much as you loved him, would do anything for him, he wasn’t for you, and you weren’t for him.

Eddie was just trying to look out for you tonight, be protective in that typical brotherly way, and make sure you got home in one piece.

You mentally kick yourself for being a moron and placing your discomfort at sharing a closed space with his girlfriend above your safety.

Standing outside as the rain starts to pelt down and seep into your skin, you’re regretting your decision. Heather was an ass, but dealing with her for a twenty minute car journey would’ve been favorable over standing outside in freezing temperatures, getting soaked to the bone.

You stub out what’s left of your barely lit cigarette, crushing it under the heavy weight of your Docs. You scan the deserted street for any sign of life, only for whatever forces that are in charge to offer you some form of rectitude — Steve Harrington’s car hums in the distance, lights illuminating the otherwise empty road.

The Beemer rolls up, Steve’s arm flexing as he rolls down the window, “Need a ride?”

Steve’s eyes are hazy, a flash of mischief shining in the dark honey hues — he’d spent the majority of the party with Eddie, the pair of them suddenly the best of friends after years of teenage hatred. He’s so high, you can smell it on his expensive jacket. 

Eddie’s disappointed face flashes through your mind, but the heavy material of your own jacket clings to your body, soaked through from the pelting rain. Fuck what Eddie would think, getting in Steve Harrington’s car beats whatever was going on out here.

“Yeah, thanks,” you mumble, a sharp little smile on your face as you round the car, sliding into the passenger seat. The door slams shut and you’re suddenly cocooned in familiar scents of leather and Steve’s cedarwood cologne. It’s painfully comforting.

The engine roars to life once more, and Steve makes off down the street without another thought. You pretend not to notice how his eyes hardly leave your soaked frame as you drive on.

The car purrs as you drive down the quiet streets, the unspoken tension between you both sizzling as Iron Maiden plays softly from the speakers. Eddie really made sure Steve saw all parts of him when they began hanging out, and Steve took to Eddie’s music tastes painfully quickly. 

“What’s the story then, princess?” Steve grins, finally breaking the silence, “Turning down a ride with Eddie for a nicotine break was a little silly. It’s freezing out there, you’d have caught your death if I hadn’t shown up.”

“My knight in shining armor,” you deadpan, sighing quietly and cringing when you catch yourself being a little rude, “sorry, uh. I didn’t wanna be a third wheel, Heather and I, we don’t get along at all.”

Steve chuckles quietly, “She’s a bitch.” 

“She’s such a bitch,” you agree with enthusiasm, finally turning slightly in your seat to face Steve properly, “I dunno what the hell Eddie sees in her.”

“Big boobs,” Steve shrugs, making a face when you hum in disappointment under your breath, “fair point, though. Can’t blame you for wanting to avoid that situation. Still, I can’t believe he left you there like that.”

There’s a beat of silence, your cheeks flushing hot. Was Steve being protective?

“I saw you dodging advances from a certain somebody tonight,” Steve wiggles his brows, cutting the tension quickly, “what’s the deal? He not doing it for you anymore?” 

You groan, rolling your eyes as you slump back into your seat, “I’m not in the mood for Brad’s games, y’know? He’s so hot and cold.” 

“Games, huh?” Steve grins, eyes landing on you for a moment, flirty and devastatingly attractive, “Maybe you’ve just not found somebody yet who plays the right ones.” 

You flush hot, heart practically beating out of your chest, because this is clearly the weed talking. Steve hadn’t flirted with you since that one time in sophomore year, when you’d come back from Summer break and had blossomed enough for the one and only The Hair to find you worthy of his time.

“Smooth, Harrington,” you choke out eventually, spluttering on your own saliva as you struggle to get the words out, “your list of admirers is endless, do you use that line on all the girls?” 

“Well, maybe I’m looking for somebody who can keep up.” Steve passes a lingering glance over your body, only to look away and avert his eyes back to the road before you can say anything further.

Over the years you had known him, you and Steve had shared stolen glances and cryptic smiles. Gravitating towards each other in Eddie’s absence, but never taking that next step. Steve had a list of conquests, and it pained you to admit every last one hurt to watch – somehow it pained you more to admit how pleased you’d become when each of them left just as fast.

You both knew that these were dangerous waters to tread, how protective Eddie could be over you was enough to have Steve keeping you at arms length, his respect for Eddie was too great to push it further. Yet here you were once again, sharing a confined space and feeling an aura of comfortability that couldn’t just be ignored until it went away.

The rest of the journey passes in silence, and all too soon Steve is pulling onto the dirt track towards the trailer you and Eddie share. The place is still in darkness, and you have to suppress an eye roll – Eddie was hardly ever home overnight now, too used to shacking up with Heather in her apartment in town.

Steve cuts the engine, slapping a hand down on his jean clad thigh, “I’ll walk you to your door, it’s creepy as hell out here in the dark.” 

He shudders for emphasis, and before you can protest and tell him you can manage on your own, he’s out of the car and rounding the trunk to open your door for you.

“Thanks, Steve, you really don’t have to.” You insist, stepping out of the car and internally cringing as your boots squelch in the thick mud where the tyres of Eddie’s van typically embed themselves.

“It’s okay, wouldn’t wanna risk something happening to you,” Steve says, a hand coming out to just barely touch the small of your back as you struggle like bambi on ice in the slippery mud, “here just – just take my hand.”

Steve extends his hand out and you take it with a slight hesitation, your need to make it to the front door without being soaked in rain and mud outweighing the heavy feelings sitting in your chest. 

It’s almost frightening how normal it feels, to have your hand clasped with Steve’s as you walk the short path to the trailer. You don’t want to know what that means, but it feels so nice, the way Steve’s large, warm hand encapsulates your own has your head spinning.

You have to, albeit sadly, let go of Steve to fish in your jacket pocket for a front door key. After a fight with the lock, the door swings open, the warm heat so inviting that you basically barge through the doorway, tugging Steve in with you without thinking.

Steve gawps a little, flounders from where he stands as you lean over his large frame to shut the door behind him, toeing off your shoes like you would any other night. When you finally take a moment to realize what you’ve just done, so casually, you’re suddenly aware of the slight crackle of tension, the magnetic pull of your bodies as you shuffle close together.

You guide him further into the house, flicking on a lamp that’s perched on a nearby table, illuminating the room with a soft, warm glow. Losing your jacket and throwing it haphazardly on a random surface. 

Everything seems to narrow with each step, pulling you both as close together as possible with each passing moment. Neither of you pull away, either, walking as tightly together as you can manage in the small space. 

“You want a drink or something?” You ask, trying to keep yourself as nonchalant as possible, schooling your voice as you cast a sidelong glance at him. 

Steve grins, a glint of mischief in his eyes, as he gently declines the offer with a shake of his head, "As tempting as that sounds, princess, I spotted a little note from Eddie saying he'd be back soon. Wouldn't want to overstay my welcome and have him play a game of twenty questions.”

Your confused gaze follows his where he nods over your shoulder, and sure enough there’s a scribbled out note on the pin board hung up the wall;

BE BACK SOON SWEETHEART, DONT LOCK ME OUT!! 

You really do roll your eyes this time around, mentally sticking the middle finger up at the fucking note. You walk back and lean on the dining table, crossing your arms over your chest. You can’t pretend that you don’t notice Steve’s gaze never leaving your body, watching your every move as you shuffle around. 

He looks disappointed, shoving his hands deep into his pockets. You dare to fix your own stare on him from where you’re perched, can’t ignore how he so naturally hovers towards you despite the rejection. Like he wants to do one thing but is saying another, trying to be the good guy.

Steve was a good guy.

In the closeness, the push and pull between you and Steve becomes devastating. The air is thick with unspoken admissions, and whatever sort of invisible barrier you had between you both begins to fade as you float into each other's space once more. 

With a nod of his head towards the door, Steve finally breaks the silence. "Guess I should get going, huh?" 

The words hang in the air, a question and an invitation, leaving you to decide which it’s going to be. The doorway goes out of focus, blurs as Steve inches closer to you and further from it, the silent tension lingering in the air – an unanswered question.

A soft smile plays on your lips as you respond, "You could stay, you know? We could… hang out." 

You offer with some sort of nonchalance, despite how your heart hammers in your chest, and it hangs with anticipation as you hold his gaze, leaving the choice in the hazy space between lingering and leaving.

Steve sucks in a slow breath, his eyes flickering between yours and the curve of your lips. You shiver visibly, and in that fleeting moment, Steve inches a fraction closer. It's a subtle movement, almost imperceptible, but it speaks volumes.

Up this close, you could really marvel at just how gorgeous Steve is, his tan skin flecked with beauty marks and moles, dotted like constellations. You wanted to connect them all with your tongue, kiss and bite him until he was branded.

“You want to, right?” You breathe, chest heaving slightly, and you forget all about how damp and uncomfortable your clothes are, how when he picked you up you wanted nothing more than to have a hot shower and go to sleep. Now, you want everything but that. You want to see how far Steve will go, you want to know if he wants you as much as you want him.

“Eddie’ll probably be back any minute,” Steve murmurs, those deep set eyes scanning over your entire face, lingering on your lips, and the tip of his tongue peaks out to swipe along his own bottom one, wetting it, “we… we shouldn’t.”

“Yeah, we shouldn’t,” you agree eventually, voice breathy and lacking conviction, entire body vibrating, leaning into Steve just as much as he was leaning into you. Your hands grasp for the edge of the table, grounding you when you need it most, anticipation enough to have your heart hammering in your chest.

“Yeah, we… definitely shouldn’t.” Steve mimics, leans in closer, his hot breath fanning your face. He’s beautiful like this, so close that you’re going cock eyed trying to keep your vision of him clear, but his guard was rarely ever let down around you, and you didn’t want to miss a moment. 

His lips brush against yours, a pained, strangled sound coming from the back of his throat, before he’s diving in for that first mind melting kiss. 

Time stops for a moment, this fiery spark igniting between you both as fierce mouths move against one another, painfully desperate like it’s going to be over too soon, like if you stop it’ll never happen again. 

All inhibition is lost, Steve’s fingertips squeezing into the doughy flesh of your waist, somehow pushing you together even tighter, gripping you with a fierceness as your lips move together. Like he’s staking a claim — mine, mine, mine.

His tongue swipes against your bottom lip, begging for entry silently, which you allow him willingly with a high pitched, contented moan. He’s experimental, swiping the tip of his tongue against your own lightly, lapping until he’s pulling these little noises from you, and it has your core aching. 

The light smacking sounds of moistened lips in an otherwise void room is an almost painful reminder that this was real.

Your shaking fingertips move from the table to grip at the front of Steve’s jacket, desperate hands trying to rip at the material, because a simple kiss was never going to be enough. Now that you had him and knew he wanted you back.

“We can’t,” Steve whines, pitiful against your lips as you struggle to stop, chasing his mouth with your own in a feverish passion as he barely tries to pull back from you, “you keep making these noises, m’not gonna be able to stop.” 

You bring your hands up to cup Steve’s jaw on instinct, without even thinking about it, holding him in place so he can’t fight with himself to get away, “Want it, Steve. I want you,” you breathe, sincere and pleading, guiding him back to kiss you again and he melts into you, “wanted it since the first time you stepped foot in here. Wanted you to want me too.”

“Always fuckin’ wanted you,” Steve mumbles, those soft, fucking perfect lips brushing yours as he speaks, so desperate it’s like he can’t bare to move back any further, “you’re so beautiful, shit. Need you, can I have you?”

You nod without hesitation as Steve's hands tighten on your waist, intensifying the urgency between your bodies. The kiss deepens, a mix of desperation and desire, creating a raw, feral, and unmistakably intimate connection.

Steve's lips become a drug, setting off sparks within you, and the forbidden tension hangs heavy in the air. Breaking away, his admission of always wanting you fuels the flames, and his calloused fingertips trace over your flushed skin as he murmurs, "Wanna do that forever," he murmurs, taking a moment to lock eyes with you, before reconnecting your lips once more.

A desperate groan escapes Steve's chest, a tenor of pent-up emotion. His fingers dig into your waist and jaw, revealing the battle within him – wanting you intensely but also grappling with the fear of irreversible damage. 

Your desperation and passion counteracts his conflicted motions, hands tightly clinging to his jacket, expressing the longing and fire coursing through you. 

Steve's plea transforms into a primal growl as he pulls you closer, creating an animalistic admission of want and yearning, leaving not an inch of space between you, pressing you up so tightly against the table that your ass mounts it properly — you willingly spread your legs for him, allowing him entry so that he can slot between your thighs.

Whatever boundaries you were trying to keep are long gone.

“You’re soaking, baby,” Steve notes, the tip of his tongue swiping along your bottom lip, “you need to get out of these clothes.”

“You think you’re so smooth,” you giggle, the delicate sound pitching into a moan when Steve dips down to mouth at your jaw, “think I’m soaked in more ways than one.” 

Steve grunts against your skin, his teeth grazing against the side of your throat. He rocks his hips into your own, and you have to suppress an embarrassing sound when you feel the half hard outline of his cock press against you. 

“You gonna be a gentleman and take me to my room?” You tease, fingers traveling from Steve’s jacket and up into his hair, nails tangling in the tresses and tugging him closer. You relish in how he finally bites down on your skin properly, determined to mark you as his own.

“What if I wanna do it right here, huh?” Steve mutters, kissing over the raised, abused skin on your neck, “You want that, princess? 

You nod, just once, a deep heat pooling in your gut, and that’s enough to have Steve pulling desperately at your dress. Calloused fingertips slide the spaghetti straps down your shoulders, and you help him take you out of the offending material, shimmying until it pools at your feet.

Steve groans, low in the back of his throat as he takes in your body, now barely covered by a skimpy black thong and a lacy bra. You burn hot under his intense gaze, squealing when his large hands snake under the backs of your thighs, kneading the fat between his fingers as he hoists you back onto the table.

“Can I use my mouth on you?” Steve mumbles, massaging your thighs that you willingly spread open for him once again, a silent invitation.

“Y-yeah,” you stutter, moaning when he drops to his knees in one fluid motion, wrapping your legs around his shoulders as he goes. 

One thing that is apparent, is Steve’s love of eye contact. Touching you everywhere his body can reach, and it drives you up the damn wall. His eyes are darkened with lust as he trails hot, wet kisses up the insides of your thighs, pushing your legs apart further so he can slot his broad shoulders in the space.

The anticipation bubbles deep in your gut, cunt fluttering as he dips two fingers into the material of your panties, pulling them to the side to expose you to the warm air. You feel him squeeze you tighter, gaze moving to take in the sight of your slick pussy, ready and waiting for him.

“Mmph, she’s so pretty,” Steve moans, leaning forward in an instant to bury his face into the wetness of your cunt, running his nose over the bump of your clit as his tongue snakes out to taste you, lapping messily. 

“Steve!” You gasp his name, fingers immediately finding home in his honey highlighted tresses, sinking in and tugging lightly, pushing him closer to you.

It spurs him on, those fucking hands squeezing and pulling at the flesh of your inner thighs hard enough to bruise, burying his face into you deeper and grunting like you’re the best thing he ever tasted. He’s messy, lapping up and down the expanse of your core, suckling on your clit with a perfect pressure. 

“Shit, shit,” you’re basically wailing, hips rolling into Steve’s face and he just takes it, lets you guide him with your hands, moving him where you want him to go. 

He never breaks eye contact, watches you with these hazy, pussy drunk eyes as he gives you everything you want and more. Moaning into the heat of your cunt like he’s getting off just as much as you are.

“Keep doing that, m’gonna cum, haa,” you’re babbling, incoherent as your tummy rolls with sheer pleasure, Steve never once letting up on his assault with his tongue.

If anything, your words have him doubling down, pressing in so far you’re not sure he’s even able to breathe. Your orgasm hits you suddenly, violently, has you pulling on Steve’s hair so hard you know his scalp has to be aching, and you finally squeeze your eyes shut tight as you ride it out.

You know you’re gushing for Steve, making a mess of his face with the slickness that spills from your cunt, thighs shaking and locking him in tight in the aftershocks. He doesn’t let up until you’re physically jerking away, fingers running through his hair softly as your hips shudder. 

You’re barely on the same planet, unable to comprehend it when Steve rises from between your legs and kisses you deeply, feeding the taste of yourself to you. You moan, hands coming up to squeeze Steve’s face as you deepen the kiss, swapping spit and rocking against each other. 

It’d be disgusting if it wasn’t so erotic.

“You’re so hot,” Steve moans, pushing into you until the curve of his clothed cock presses tight into the cavern of your soaked cunt, eliciting breathy whines from you both, “need you now, yeah?” 

You nod, and he’s pulling you from the table in an instant.

Clothes scatter along the floor as Steve takes you to the bedroom, practically carrying you like you’re nothing. Neither of you leave an inch of space between each other as you rip his shirt over his head, tugging at the offending leather belt that keeps his jeans in place.

“Off, need them off,” you gasp, finally popping the button and burying your hand into his underwear. Tackiness on your fingertips from where the head of his painfully hard cock has been pressed tightly in the confines of his clothes.

Steve chuckles, pushes his hips into your hand and you finally get to feel him. Hot, hard, heavy in your hand — big enough that your eyes widen, and he’s burying his face in your neck to hide his embarrassment, biting at your shoulder.

“Didn’t get called King Steve for nothing,” he mutters, a red flush on his cheeks that he buries in your skin. 

“The girls weren’t kidding.” you gasp, wrapping your hand around what you can reach and tugging slightly until he’s bucking into your grasp.

You’re pushed through your bedroom door, backs of your knees hitting the end of the bed unexpectedly. You bounce back onto it, pulling Steve with you, a tangle of limbs on an unmade bed that smells vaguely of the vanilla perfume you’d sprayed earlier. 

“Couldn’t let a guy get his pants off first?” Steve grins, pulling back and looking physically wounded as he does it, to shimmy out of the remainder of his clothing.

In the soft lighting, he looks ethereal. The moles and beauty marks are everywhere, branding perfectly tanned skin, a soft tummy that just barely conceals a set of abs. He’s perfect, like a wet dream, and here he is in your room, in your bed, crawling back between your spread thighs.

“You’re so perfect,” Steve sighs, leaning down once again to capture your lips in a searing kiss, his torso rolling into yours as he steals your breath from your lungs.

It’s everything. The way you move together like you know each other's bodies perfectly, touching each other with a familiarity despite this being the first time.

A hand crawls up your inner thigh, and two deft fingers sink into your cunt, crooking up and finding that spot, running against it until you’re arching under his touch.

Your own hand crawls between your dancing bodies, wrapping properly around the length of Steve’s cock, tugging half heartedly until he’s growling into your mouth, his hips punching forward into your touch.

Time passes like molasses, it could be two minutes or twenty, until you’re both gasping and desperate. Not even kissing anymore, just lightly panting with brushing lips. 

“Want it, want you to fuck me now.” You beg, clenching around Steve’s fingers for emphasis, cunt soaked and fluttering, needing more.

Steve nods, sliding his fingers from inside of you, understanding every word and desperate plea. He clasps your hand in his own, bringing them up to rest beside your head in the nest of pillows, “You ready, baby? I’ll take it slow, know I’m a stretch.” 

You nod, any witty remark dying in the back of your throat. The want and hunger for Steve overrides any other feeling, your brain fogged with nothing but him and his body tight against yours.

Steve grasps hold of his cock by the base, head bowing so he can watch as he presses the head snug against your cunt. 

You both inhale a shuddery breath at the same time, and suddenly he’s pushing in — inch by inch filling you out. You whimper, fingers digging into Steve’s, a mewl escaping you as you push up into his torso. 

Steve looks up at you, sincere and checking in, “You okay?” 

“Keep going,” you gasp, hips swiveling.

Steve’s mouth hangs open in a silent moan, watches as his cock slides into your wet pussy like it was made to be there, taking every last inch of him until he’s nestled up against you.

You jolt when the thick thatch of hair nestled at his pubic bone catches on your swollen, throbbing clit. A breathy, panting whine clawing up from your throat.

“Fuck, you’re so fucking wet, princess. Not gonna last long,” Steve admits pulling out a few inches only to slide right back in, making home, “god, like you were made to take me.” 

You flush at Steve’s words, “You can– you can move properly. Fuck me like you want.” 

“Don’t say that, princess.” Steve whines, fingers gripping your hips, “You let me have what I want and I’ll never let you leave.” 

Your heart beats faster, harder, whole body alight with all these different feelings, tugging at every part of you. 

Full on Steve’s cock and holding his fucking hand. It’s heavenly.

Steve pulls out properly this time, pushing back in and creating a punishing rhythm that has you mewling and spewing out these horribly loud moans and cries for him. The head of his cock nudges at your spot dead-on with each thrust, has you over-stimulated ridiculously fast, it teeters on the right side of painful.

Your fingers dig into Steve’s skin, other hand wrapping around his bicep. A moan escaping you as he dips down to kiss and nibble at your neck, “You’re so big, holy shit. Feels so good, so good.”

“Yeah?” Steve grins at you, cocky and sure of himself and you almost catch a glimpse of the old Steve in it, which somehow makes the entire thing even sexier. One thing Steve Harrington was so sure he was good at was fucking, and you feed into his ego with the way your body reacts to him. 

Sweaty skin slapping against skin, the creaking of your bed frame under the vigorous movements. The pants and cries that flow from your mouth with every hard thrust, the grunts that rattle from deep in Steve’s chest. It’s pure filth, everything you wanted and needed.

“Y-yeah, I— I—” You stutter as your orgasm crescendos, legs wrapping tightly around his waist, heels of your feet digging into the small of his back. Nails breaking skin on Steve’s arm as you shake and shudder through it, body practically vibrating with the sheer force of it. 

“You needed that huh, princess? Needed me to pull that from you?” Steve whispers, a moan leaving him as he fucks you even harder, chasing his own orgasm, “Fuckin’ gripping me, holy fuck.”

Your eyes roll into the back of your head, unable to stop how your cunt flutters sporadically for him, taking everything he gives you and then some.

“Holy shit, baby,” Steve breathes, fucked out and chest heaving, “m’gonna cum, gonna cum in your perfect little pussy.” 

“Please,” you beg, back arching and somehow pushing Steve in even deeper, eliciting matching moans of pleasure from you both, “please, please.”

“Shit – fuckin’ begging me to cum in you, you’re so perfect, shit.” He grunts, hips slamming into you as he nears the end, thrusts becoming short and snappy, rhythm faltering.

Your nails dig into Steve’s bicep, pushing your nose against his softly, ghosting a kiss over his lips, “Wanna feel you spilling in me, please? Mark me, I’m yours.” 

He moans loudly at your words, the noise so beautiful it’s like music in your ears. You’d almost be smug about being the person to pull it from him, if it weren’t for how fucked out he’d left you.

Steve squeezes his eyes shut, pushing his face into your neck as his body wracks with his orgasm. He grunts into your damp skin, cock pulsing rhythmically inside the fluttering walls of your pussy.

You can feel it so fucking strongly it’s almost hard to breathe.

It’s sticky and messy as Steve untangles his sweaty limbs from your own, landing a gentle kiss on your nose. You flush hot, burning up at how ridiculously domesticated the simple motion is.

He pulls out sloppily, flopping down next to you on the bed and hauling you into his warm embrace. It’s — it’s unexpected, so soft and sweet that you tense for a second only to loosen up and settle your head on his chest.

The air is heavy and warm in the afterglow. Steve's gaze lingers on yours, a moment shared in silence, acknowledging your mutual feelings without a single word. 

You’re leaning up to kiss him again, unable to contain it, when suddenly the bubble is shattered, the bedroom door swinging open abruptly. 

Eddie stands in the doorway, his features screwed up with a mixture of shock and anger.

"Steve, what the hell?" Eddie's scratchy voice cuts through the stillness, his eyes narrowing as they dart between you and Steve. Steve bolts upright, panicked and caught off guard, shifting uncomfortably under Eddie's intense gaze.

"Eddie, I can explain," you begin, panic rising in your chest as you sit up and pull the sheets closer around you. The atmosphere suddenly becomes charged with tension, and Eddie's expression tightens further.

"Explain? Explain what, exactly?! That my best friend is in bed with my-my – dammit dude, she’s like a sister to me! What the hell?!" Eddie's tone is sharp, a mix of disbelief and fury. Steve runs a hand through his disheveled hair, clearly searching for words that could help calm the escalating situation.

"Eddie, it just happened. We didn't plan—" Steve starts, but Eddie interrupts with a held up ringed hand.

Neither of you push it any further, words dying in both of your throats at such a simple movement. You’re so far apart by now that Steve is basically hanging off the edge of the bed, and you can’t help the way your heart feels fucking heavy with it.

"I don't care. This is not okay. I told you not to touch her, Steve. She’s not a girl to play with." Eddie's disappointment is palpable, the weight of his words hanging in the air.

The room is filled with a devastating silence, broken only by echoes of Eddie's anger and the heavy weight of his boots shuffling along the hard floor as he walks away. The trailer door slams shut so hard that the entire shell ricochets with the force. 

It all becomes so painful once Steve hauls himself off of the bed, frantically throwing on every strewn article of clothing that he’d shed just hours earlier, his head bowed like he can’t even bear to look at you. Like he’s scared and doesn’t want to face up to everything that happened.

You can’t even blame him. 

“Steve, wait,” you start, vision blurring at the edges as panic starts to set in, grappling to come to terms with the fact this was all going to be over, “don’t listen to him. He’s wrong, I know you – you don’t. You don’t do that anymore, you wouldn’t do that to me.”

“No he – he’s right,” Steve’s eyes reflect with sadness, the weight of his words lying deep in the pit of your stomach, “I have a reputation. We all know that. He’s trying to protect you, his heart is in the right place.” 

“But Steve-” 

“Eddie’s right, princess. There’s something there, I know it. But,” Steve sighs, shaking his head, “if this doesn’t work out I lose you and him. I can’t risk not having you both.” 

“Steve, will you listen to me, please?” You plead, clambering in a moment of panic to get off of the bed, sheet still wrapped firmly around your naked frame. You shuffle over ungracefully, until you’re standing toe to toe with him, “I like you. You felt it like I felt it. I– I want this.” 

You can almost see Steve’s internal struggle, the way his face crumples once he catches your teary eyes with his own devastated hues. His hands itch at his sides, and then suddenly those strong arms are wrapping around you, pulling you into his orbit and lifting you onto your tiptoes.

You wrap your arms around his middle, fingers grasping at the stretched material of his shirt, clinging on for dear life, "Steve, I really fucking like you, and I can't stand by and watch you walk away from this because of some misplaced sense of loyalty.” 

Steve’s chin rests atop your head, and you feel every bit of the deep sigh he lets out, “You trust me too much, like you know I’m not going to fuck up. I wish I could trust myself even half as much.”

Your reaction is immediate, frustration bubbling up inside of you as you listen to Steve talk down on himself, “You’ll never hurt me. You’re not some ticking time bomb just waiting to ruin everything. Allow yourself the courtesy of taking what you want and letting yourself fuck up. I’m strong enough to handle it.”

“I’ve messed up so many times in the past that I’m scared I’ll hurt you without meaning to,” Steve winces, clinging to you even tighter, cocooning you in his embrace, “I couldn’t live with myself if I did that shit.” 

You pull away slightly, bringing a hand up to cup his jaw, forcing him to face you and really soak in every word you say, “You’re fucking human, Steve. I’m not asking you to be perfect.”

Steve’s face etches with vulnerability, those damned eyes filled with hurt, but his body relaxes slightly, acknowledging what you’re trying to say, “You’re perfect.” 

Your stomach lurches, heart hammering where it sits beneath your ribcage, this pathetic grin taking over, “I promise you, I’m not. Wait until you realize just how many flaws I have — like being so terrible at cooking that I burn toast.”

Steve lets out a snort, eyes crinkling in the corners, fondness washing over him, “I’ll teach you,” he mumbles, leaning in a little, “if you’ll teach me something in return.” 

“Anything.” You breathe, pushing up to bridge the gap. Your noses brush, Steve’s hands gripping onto the soft flesh of your waist a little firmer.

Steve grins, mischievous, “Teach me how to have patience. I’ve been told it’s a virtue I’m seriously lacking, Dustin rags on me all the time about it.”

You let out a soft laugh, the tension from earlier dissipating in an instant, "Patience it is, though I’m not sure how much of it I even have. And you better be ready for some burnt toast along the way."

Steve chuckles, a low, melodic sound that sends shivers down your spine, "I think I can handle that."

He bridges the gap between you, pressing his lips to yours and sealing the agreement.

[princessbrunette]

kinktober : oct 12th

anakin skywalker x sex pollen

he thought maybe you were drunk, from the way you were rambling at him, slurring at him, pawing at him. his eyes moved faster than his ears, taking in the way your smaller hands grasped his wrists, your eyes pink and hazy with barely anything but pupil on display. you were tearful, warm to the touch, bottom lip wet and swollen. his eyes linger a moment too long.

his ears catch up, and you’re begging in a tone he hasn’t heard leave you before. your voice is whining, broken, pathetic almost.

“please it—t’was an accident ani b-but I need you, need your help n’need to just— need to feel better!” you’re practically crying, attempting to drag him further into the apartment where he stands rooted in the hallway, having flown over to your home when you’d called him. he places a warm hand on your cheek hoping to soothe you, but it seems that any touch from him only made you more frantic.

“shh, hey — listen. you’re gonna have to slow down. tell me what’s going on?” his brows are furrowed, expression serious and protective and it nearly makes your knees buckle. you swallow, trying hard to concentrate and breathe to get your thoughts in order.

“was at the market on the lower levels, n’i know you told me not to go there ani b-but—” you whimper and he nods, urging you to go on. “but they were selling these plants, and the pollen was just blowing everywhere and — and it made me feel funny — and now i’m home and i— i need you, i need you to fuck me.” the last part is punctuated by you grabbing at the collar of his robes, staring up at him with so much desperation it was hard to say anything but yes.

he sighs, oddly calm as he runs a hand over his face, nodding in understanding. every little mannerism he performed was painfully more attractive than usual, leaving you standing before him shivering and whimpering over nothing, clenching your thighs together.

“told you to be careful baby, look at the state you’re in.” he sighs, guiding you by your lower back into the bedroom. he has you sit on the edge of your bed, his touch so gentle in comparison to what he really wanted to do to you. “lay back, show me the problem sweetheart.”

he’d helped push your dress up to your stomach and peeled your underwear off, in disbelief at the mess before him. you’re crying now, clenching around nothing as you spread your legs, snitching on the copious amounts of slick coating your lips and inner thighs. your hands grip your own thighs holding them apart as you tremble, sniffling sadly. he settles down on the bed beside you, trying to stay calm to not work you up. “alright baby, there you go.” he sedates you quietly with rubbing your clit with his thumb, the sensitivity making you mewl and tremor like you were already seconds away from cumming.

“got it bad, don’t you sweet girl? i’m sorry i wasn’t there.” he scoffs, but not in a mocking way— moreso in a kind and slightly guilty way, his tone apologetic yet lighthearted in a way that only anakin could pull off. “oh, i know.” he pouts when you cry.

he stuffs two long fingers into your hole, curling them up against your soft spot exactly when you need him. he’s skipping all the teasing today, knowing his girl needs him to give her what she wants. he usually works you open with one finger and then adds the other, but it appears the plant induced frenzy you were in had inspired your very own pollen between your legs, making it easy for his thick fingers to slip right in.

“what would you do without me coming to look after you like this, hm? taking time out of my busy jedi schedule to finger fuck my girl when she gets herself wound up. goooood girl.” he praises when you go limp for a while, brain seeming to be on another planet as you let the pleasure possess you, being able to think of nothing but his fingers.

but soon, it wasn’t enough — and when you reach out to paw at his crotch, muttering “s’not enough, need more.” like a crazy person, you’re not surprised to find him already fully hard beneath your palm, ready to give you what you need.

“you’re lucky us jedi have such good stamina,” he smirks after pulling out his thick cock and sitting on his feet on the bed, suddenly manhandling your ass to rest on his thighs, prodding your entrance with his fat pink mushroom tip. “i have a feeling i might need it tonight.” he’s grinning now in that classic charming anakin skywalker way, sinking his length into you completely.

requested tag ! : @hanasnx @jellydodger

[imagineredwood]

4. Stars ✨

Summary: EZ is president now and with that new control over the club has come new control over you.

Pairing: EZ Reyes x female reader

Warnings: 18+ Sexual content MDNI, PIV sex, oral sex (f receiving), overstimulation-(everything is consensual but the reader does ask him to stop due to overstimulation, not because she is no longer consenting), EZ talking the reader through it a little condescendingly

Word count: 745

A/N: Named it Stars because that what the 🍆 has you seeing in this one 🥰 Could potentially be seen as a little OOC for EZ, I just went with more of his personality from the later seasons. The more ruthless EZ as opposed to the usual characteristic early on cinnamon roll EZ 🫣 Also none of the other women that he’s been with on the show exist in this timeline so the reader is his first valentine since getting released.

"I can't, I can't, I can't-"

EZ chuckled at your breathless voice, high-pitched, whiny, and desperate as you pushed at his shoulders, trying to earn some reprieve. The vibration against your clit ran a shiver through you, a quiet sob pushing past your lips at the overstimulation. You weren't sure how many times he had made you come now.

You had stopped counting after six.

It was Valentine's Day, and with his time in prison, EZ hadn't had a Valentine to spoil in quite some time. But he had you this year and he had pulled out all of the stops. Breakfast in bed, spending the day together doing the hobbies of your choice, a fancy dinner at your favorite restaurant, and now that you were both home, he had spent the last 45 minutes with his face buried in your pussy eating you like a man starved.

It had been great at first, like always, but somewhere around the fifth orgasm, it had somewhat lost its novelty as you shook and spasmed over and over. He took some pity, opting to move his mouth to your inner thighs, leaving kisses and soft bites while his fingers worked into you instead. He'd given your swollen clit some safety from the abuse for a good few minutes, long enough to help you settle. Just to bring his full lips to it once more, suckling and kissing, your thighs casing tightly around his head.

But he simply laughs again, taking true pleasure in your overstimulation. His goatee has rubbed your lips raw and he pouts slightly as the small welts of irritation that ripple the texture of your sensitive skin.

"Poor baby."

He runs a finger over your slit, shaking his head at the way your hips jerk.

"I can't, EZ. I'm s-serious. I can't...I can't...no more..."

You're having trouble forming words, your brain turned into mush long ago. The Mayan president gets up from his prone position, a kink in his neck that he ignores. He's sitting up on his knees, looking down at you with pride and adoration, his mouth and beard glistening in copious amounts of your slick and his spit. His hand is unceremonious as it comes up to wipe at his mouth, his eyes darker than you ever remember seeing them. Ever since he's taken the gavel, he's been this way. More rough. Primal. Feral even.

And now that he has reduced you to an incoherent babbling mess, he finally grips his cock, thick and solid and leaking, just to tap it sadistically against your puffy pussy. He runs the underside over your clit, reveling in the small hiss you let out at the contact, cooing at you as he does.

"You're ok. You can take it. I know you can. You can be strong for me, right? Can't you?"

His tone was babying yet condescending and you blinked the tears out of your eyes, your head nodding softly. He grinned and leaned down to press his lips to yours, his tongue dominant as it pushed against yours, your taste still in his mouth. He pulled away after a moment more and took hold of himself once again, cock pushing through your lips easily, back and forth, back and forth, your hole clenching on nothing on nothing every time he grazed over your clit.

He finally sunk into you without warning, slow and steady until he was buried within you fully. He leaned his weight on top of you, burly arms coming up to rest on either side of your head, encasing you. His lips kissed and sucked at your jaw as he gave you a moment to adjust, his left hand fisted into your hair. Not pulling or tugging, but ensuring he kept you just where he wanted you. He pulled his hips back then, all the way until he had almost slipped out of you, and then sank all the way back in. Your thighs trembled as they rested against his waist, your breathing shallow and ragged and he continued those strokes, making you see stars.

You made noises that EZ assumed might've been meant to sound like words, but they were unintelligible, so he paid them no mind.

"There you go, baby. That's my good girl. Look how good you take all of me."

You whimpered and nodded, your brain as scrambled as your insides, you having no choice but to lay there and take everything he gave you.

General taglist

@piccasoe @ateliefloresdaprimavera @gemini0410 @woahitslucyylu @my-rosegold-soul @that-chick212 @everyhowlmarksthedead @glimmerglittergirl  @fanaticfangurl21 @encounterthepast  @svintsandghosts @starrynite7114   @destynelseclipsa  @queenbeered @iamthegraham @emoengelfurleben  @otomefromtheheart @rosieposie0624 @papa-geralt-of-cirilla @beeroses @weirdosandhopelessromantics @kola95 @black-repunzel99 @xonickibaby @cruzwalters @myakai13 @mrsstevenbuchananstark @lyly00 @kaystacks17 @cole-winchester  @alexxavicry  @savagemickey03  @fanfic-n-tabulous   @gangstaliciou06

Mayans MC taglist

@dazzledamazon​  @abunnykisses​ @briana-mishell24​  @wrcn9fvlcver​  @thesandbeneathmytoes​ @krysiewithak​  @appropriate-writers-name​  @blessedboo​  @megapeacelovemusic-blog​ @emoengelfurleben​ @blowmymbackout​ @abby-splace​ @kola95​ @black-repunzel99​ @redpoodlern​  @myakai13​

@cruzwalters​  @danimals1096 @po3ticb3auty​ @lyly00​ @im-just-a-mississippi-girl​  @angel-121​ @fanfic-n-tabulous​ @90sisthenew80s​ @lovelytricia @librarian1002

[ghostlyfleur]

steve harrington x shy!reader

king steve falling for the shy, soft girl that is an introvert and a flustered mess and extremely clumsy and he just thinks she’s cute, okay?

but any effort he makes into becoming close to his dream girl — that is always nice to him, and always lends him a pen in class with a smile, and never judges him or calls him stupid — is brushed off with a cute blush and silence or a shy smile followed by her just walking away with a nervous wave, and he doesn’t get it.

steve knows he can flirt, he also knows she’s into him; she’s so obvious about it, what with her blushing and stuttering and trying to hide her pretty smile and her pretty face. the thing is, what steve doesn’t realize, is that she doesn’t take his interest seriously, i mean… he’s King Steve, right?

she thinks he’s just bored after breaking up and moving on from nancy wheeler, and it’s true, he has moved on, but she won’t believe he moved on because of her. she brushes it off as him just teasing her or joking or being naturally flirty or maybe he just wants to make her fall for him so he knows he still has that effect on girls, doesn’t believe he’d ever truly want her, at least not for anything more than a hook up, and that’s just not her. even though yes, she’s falling for him, but she won’t let herself believe he might feel the same. see, she’s never had romantic validation, no one has ever taken an interest in her or tried to pursue her, and yeah, the fact she’s quiet and closed off and a loner plays a part in it, but she’s also demiromantic/demisexual so she needs an emotional connection before romance or sex even becomes a possibility… and there’s just no one that has the patience for that… right? and if someone does, what if she doesn’t reciprocate?

but she likes steve. she does. so much. she’s just trying her hardest to protect herself so she won’t fall for his charms, but he won’t let her. because steve sees that she likes him back, so he’s all in. steve just thinks she’s so cute, so overwhelmingly kind, so sweet and soft and smiley, always giggling and petting stray animals and she always has flowers with her somewhere (from both her job at the flower shop and the copious amounts of flora in her home), on her hair or behind her ear or just carrying them around; they make her feel happy and safe and calm. ease her anxiety. steve loves her flower printed dresses that look so good on her, and her flowy skirts that show off her pretty legs and soft thighs he’s dying to grab at, and her cute sweaters he just knows are soft to the touch just like her, and her pretty mary jane shoes or converse that always match her outfits in color, coupled with her dainty rings and a cute daisy necklace she wears everyday that steve wants to add an ‘s’ pendant to desperately.

but she dodged his advances. every time. giggles as if he’s joking, walks away when she gets too flustered with a soft “gotta go, have a nice day, stevie”, like she doesn’t know his heart is about to burst out of his chest and that she’s the only one allowed to call him stevie at all. like she doesn’t see all the girls that are interested in steve look at her with jealousy because steve only looks at her. she’ll blush and hide her cheeks and roll her eyes playfully and steve just doesn’t know how to make her believe him! how to prove to her he’s serious, that he wants something serious. with her, and her only.

so steve keeps flirting, keeps asking her out, keeps being sweet and affectionate and caring and tender, keeps making her adorably flustered, keeps smirking and winking at her, keeps showing her his true self whenever he manages to keep her in his presence long enough before she scurries off, keeps ignoring any other girl that’s interested in him, saying he’s not interested and that he already has someone, and trying to make his baby finally give into him… until one day she breaks and just asks him to stop, tells him he won, she fell for it, he can stop now. and his sweet girl tears up, crybaby that she is, tells him he can stop trying to make her fall for him ‘cause she has and he wins, okay?! he can move on to the next girl and make her fall for him too. just to stop messing with her, it’s not fair. and it breaks steve’s heart, it’s painful. so he drops all of his walls and he confesses his love and she’s hesitant at first, not believing her dream guy could possibly want her back, but steve promises that if she gives him a chance he’ll prove to her she’s the only one he wants.

── harmo’s footnotes:

hi ♡ this particular daydream is very dear to me, so i truly hope you enjoy it. feel free to send some asks with further questions on this au and i’ll be more than happy to reply! maybe even write some small blurbs. i love you lots, mwah!

please remember to show your support by reblogging!

masterlist. character dreams.

ghostlyfleur © — all rights reserved. do not repost, copy, or translate.

[rhettabbotts]

smut prompt 139 with rhett??

you give me fever - rhett abbott

pairing: dilf!rhett abbott x babysitter!reader

summary: you did a little shopping for your weekend getaway with rhett and you can’t wait to show him what you bought.

w/c: 3.9k

warnings: 18+ only. smut. afab reader. age gap (reader is mid 20s, rhett is late 30s). unprotected sex (has been discussed beforehand, wrap it up folks). dirty talk. daddy kink. oral (m and f receiving). riding. breeding kink. creampie. i believe that is all.

prompt: “i bought a few pieces of lingerie. want me to model for you?”

a/n: surprise! here’s the dilf rhett fic i promised months ago! if it sucks you didn’t see this.. a big thank you to jo @mayhem24-7forever for looking this over for me love you mwah!

“I’ll meet you at 6.”

You sucked in a deep breath as you read the text repeatedly. Four hours until six and you were already a trembling mess. Rhett had suggested going out of town for the weekend one night a couple of weeks prior as you laid in his arms. You were ecstatic about being with him for a full weekend. Since the beginning of your relationship you had never had an entire weekend of uninterrupted time together.

Rhett had been divorced for nearly three years by the time he hired you as the babysitter. He had two beautiful girls who you adored like your own. His wife had left him unexpectedly, running off with his best friend who she had been secretly sleeping with for a year before leaving Rhett. It broke Rhett’s heart and his girls were young, almost too young to understand why their mother moved away. He tried it on his own for a while but once they both started school, he knew he needed the help.

His mother suggested you to him. She knew that you were in between jobs after finishing grad school, returning home for a while. You didn’t think babysitting was in your cards but when you met Rhett and then met his girls, you knew you were meant for the job. Rhett felt the same way. There was something about you being there with them that just felt right. His girls were laughing everyday and you even had him smiling - a lot more than he has the past few years.

Tensions were rising between you and Rhett as the months passed by. Flirtatious comments were exchanged on the daily but you never dreamed anything would come from it.

You weren’t sure how it happened, you weren’t planning on it to happen but one night when you stayed for a glass of wine you kissed him. It was an innocent kiss, a small peck to the lips that was barely there but you couldn’t deny the spark you felt when you felt his stubble brush against your skin.

Rhett had set his wine glass down and you were afraid he was going to tell you off, tell you to leave and never come back but he didn’t. Instead, he grabbed your face with both of his hands, his palms warm and callused. He looked at you in a way you have never been looked at before. It sent chills over your entire body.

“Honey…” Rhett whispered deeply. His nose knocked against your own before pressing his forehead to yours. “Are you sure about this?”

“I’ve never been so sure in my life.”

He was kissing you, months of want seeping out through the rough kiss.

From that moment on, it was hard to keep your hands off each other. It had been nearly six months and you were both still insatiable.

So, when Rhett suggested a weekend away with just the two of you, you couldn’t resist.

Your room looked like a tornado had torn through it with the copious amount of clothes you had strewn all over the place. You couldn’t decide what to pack, knowing clothes weren’t going to matter. If you had it your way, you wouldn’t leave the room the entire time. You settled on one nice outfit and comfortable loungewear for the rest of the time. One thing you made sure to pack was the small black shopping bag you had sitting on your dresser.

You went shopping on your day off, picking out several new pieces of lingerie to surprise Rhett with. You bought a baby blue matching set. Flowers embroidered on the mesh material of the bra and panties, complete with a see through negligee. You felt beautiful in it, sexy even. You knew Rhett would love it.

As you drove to the hotel an hour outside of Wabang, you tried to calm your nerves. You weren’t sure why you were nervous, but you couldn’t stop taking in shaky breaths the closer you got. As you pulled into the parking lot, Rhett was leaning against the side of his truck. His arms were crossed over his chest and the shirt sleeves of the black tee strained over his biceps.

His lazy grin puts you at ease. It was just Rhett, there was nothing to be nervous about.

You parked beside him and hopped out of the driver’s seat, barely shutting your door before making your way towards him. He pulled you into him the second you were within reach, strong arms enveloping you in a tight embrace.

“Missed you.”

“You saw me two days ago. Don’t tell me you’re going soft on me, Rhett.” You joked, poking his side with your index finger.

He shut you up with a firm kiss, hands sliding down into the back pockets of your jeans. You couldn’t hold back the gasp that escaped your throat, which led to his tongue teasing your bottom lip.

“We should- we should go check in.”

He held onto your hand the entire time, thumb gently rubbing the back of your thumb as the front desk employee checked you in.

“Here are your room keys. Breakfast is served from 7-9 in the mornings. Enjoy your stay, Mr. and Mrs. Abbott.”

“We��re n-“

“Thank you, ma’am. Have a night evening.” He muttered, hand keeping slight pressure on your lower back as he ushered you out the front door and to your vehicles to collect your bags. You were silent on the elevator ride to your room, your fingers tapping on the handle of your duffle.

Mrs. Abbott. You couldn’t deny the way those two words caused butterflies to erupt in your stomach. How they caused your heart to contract and your palms to sweat. Rhett didn’t correct her. Why? He probably didn’t want to be rude - but it still made your mind wander.

The elevator dinged to signal you had arrived at your floor, shaking you out of your thoughts. Rhett flashed you a smile, grabbing your hand once more for you to follow him down the hall. You glanced at the numbers plastered on the cream colored doors, taking note of the plush carpet that lined the floor. This place was nice, but you didn’t realize how nice until you made it to your room.

Room 435.

Rhett pressed the key to the detector and the lock clicked open. Inside, you were met with the most beautiful room. The layout was spacious, looking more like a small apartment rather than a hotel room. There was a king sized bed that stretched out into the middle of the floor, a couch and large flat screen television. A small kitchenette was to your right as you walked through the door and there was a big window with a breathtaking view.

“Rhett, you really shouldn’t have,” you began but he stopped you before you could continue by pressing a finger to your lips.

“I wanted to treat my girl,” he stated, taking your bags and sitting them in one of the chairs at the small dining table. “How about we order some room service and relax?”

All you could do was nod, suddenly feeling a bit overwhelmed with how he was treating you. Your mind started wandering again, thinking maybe this was more than just temporary. You had already established your relationship, knowing that you wanted to be together but you were still keeping it on the down low, not disclosing it to anyone but those close to you. But his lack of response to you being called Mrs. Abbott… you couldn’t help but think about what your future with Rhett held.

Rhett smiled softly at you as he called the front desk, ordering a spread of food for the two of you to enjoy. You ate in comfortable silence, enjoying each other's company. You fed him some of your dessert, rolling your eyes as he moaned dramatically around the fork.

“So… I have a surprise,” you said, chuckling at the way Rhett straightened in his seat across from you.

“What is it?”

“I, uh.. I bought a few new pieces of lingerie. You want me to model them for you?”

His eyes darkened almost instantly, lips quirked up at the corner.

“You wanna put on a show for me?” His voice was husky, thick with desire already. You smiled sweetly at him, moving from your chair and over to stand in between his spread legs. Placing a small kiss to his cheek as his hands traced up the backs of your thighs.

“Wait on the bed for me, daddy.”

You plucked the bag out of your duffle, making your way into the large en-suite bathroom. You placed the delicate material out on the counter before touching up your makeup. Your heart was thrumming in your chest in anticipation. After you slipped the lingerie on your body, you ruffled your hair to give it a little volume. You shook your hands a few times to get rid of some anxiousness and opened the door. The entry to the bathroom faced the end of the bed and Rhett’s eyes dragged over your body, devouring you with his stare.

“Goddamn, baby. Look at you,” he spoke, sounding winded. His thighs spread wide as he looked at you. Your cheeks felt hot, not knowing what to do with your hands or how to stand. “Did you buy that just for me?”

“Mhmm.”

“Come closer. Let me see you.”

You moved towards him slowly, fingers playing with the hem of the short negligee as you stood in front of the man before you. He raised his hand, index finger pointed to the ceiling as he gestured for you to spin for him. You did just that, twirling without hurry, wanting him to take it all in. When you faced him again, his hand scrubbed over his stubbled jaw. Tongue darting out to lick his lower lip. Even in the low lighting you could see the greys that lined his temples. You felt like a gazelle caught in the line of sight of a hungry lion. The way he was looking at your body made your thighs clench. Your heartbeat quickened as he beckoned you over with the crook of his finger.

“You’re so good to me, baby. Getting all dolled up to surprise daddy.”

His rough hands rubbed over the backs of your thighs once more, this time without any barrier. Rhett massaged the meat of your legs, roaming under the lace to grab two handfuls of your ass. He pulled you close to him, head resting against your stomach as he let his fingers trace the edges of the panties. He pulled back to look up at you from under his lashes, blue eyes pinning you in place.

“The things I want to do to you right now, honey.”

“Let me take care of you, daddy.”

You kneeled between his legs, the carpet providing a slight cushion. Your hands hastily fiddled with his belt, wanting your mouth on him as soon as possible. He took pity, seeing as how you couldn’t quite get the buckle undone in your rush. He did it so easily it made you huff out of slight annoyance. You sat back on your heels and waited patiently, hands folded in your lap. Rhett tugged his jeans off, tossing them to the side. There he sat in front of you in just his black boxer briefs and black t-shirt, both clinging to him in ways that made your mouth water.

He palmed himself through his boxers a few times before discarding his shirt, joining the ever growing pile of clothes. You chewed on your bottom lip as it was your turn to look over his body. His broad shoulders and chest were on display. His soft stomach and the love handles that you adored so much were begging to be touched. You reached for him, fingers gripping the waistband of his underwear and pulling them down his thick thighs. His hard cock slapped against his lower stomach and you wasted no time in licking a line from the base to the tip, collecting the droplet of precum on your tongue.

Rhett inhaled sharply as you continued with small kitten licks on the head. You wrapped your lips around it, bobbing your head to take more of his length into your mouth. He felt heavy in your mouth, the weight of it causing you to gag slightly. His hand pulled your hair back into a makeshift ponytail.

Having him in your mouth like this gave you a sense of power. Rhett was putty in your hands when you sucked him off.

Your short nails scraped along his thighs, smirking around him as you felt him shiver. His thighs were extremely sensitive, just one of many things you had learned about Rhett since you started sleeping together.

The grip on your hair tightened as you took him deeper into your mouth, his tip grazing the back of your throat just barely. You spread your knees and arched your back, causing the negligee to slip up and put your ass on display. Tears formed at the corners of your eyes as Rhett lightly thrusted his hips up into your mouth.

He tugged on your hair until he slid out of your mouth with a slight pop. A spit trail followed in its wake and you whined in protest. You had wanted him to cum in your mouth, pouting up at him. Rhett’s chest heaved as he looked down to you, fingers still tangled in your hair.

“As much as I love coming in that sinful mouth, I think I should take care of you. I know you’re desperate for it.”

He hauled you to your feet easily. You always forgot how strong he actually was. Years of working on the ranch giving him the strength of an ox. A giggle escaped you as he manhandled you to the bed. He towered over you, kneeling above you as he traced his thumbs across your bent knees.

“What do you want, babygirl?”

“Want you,” you replied quietly.

“You’re gonna need to be more specific than that.”

His hands slid up your thighs, pushing the lingerie above your hips. He thumbed the thin waistband of your panties, a lopsided grin growing on his face as he spread your legs wide and noticed the wet patch through the scrap of fabric.

“Oh, honey. You’re so wet for daddy, aren’t you. Just dying for me to play with that pretty pussy. C’mon, tell daddy what you want him to do.”

You moaned at his words, canting your hips towards him, silently begging him.

“Want you to- want your mouth on me. Please.”

“Now, was that so hard?”

He slid down the mattress until he was on his stomach, mouth mere inches from where you craved to feel him. Pressing your thighs back towards your chest he moved towards your heat.

He placed a light open-mouthed kiss to your cunt through the panties, tongue starting at your hole and licking a long stripe to your clit. You keened loudly, bucking your hips against his mouth as he sucked on the sensitive bud over the fabric. You could feel his spit cooling on it and you so desperately wanted him to tear them off and get his mouth on you properly.

“Daddy,” you whined out, fingers gripping his greying locks.

He knew what you wanted and who was he to deny his best girl?

You heard it before you felt it, a tearing of thread hit your ears before you felt the sting of the panties being ripped from your body. A gasp emitted from your lips as he threw the shredded underwear over his shoulder and mouth attached to your wet pussy, tongue delving into your dripping hole. The action caused your back to arch off the bed and a shattered breath to escape you, leaving you no time to be upset over your now destroyed underwear.

Rhett’s nose bumped against your clit as his pointed tongue circled your entrance. He shook his head slightly, moving side to side to stimulate the bundle of nerves. You raised your head from the pillows to look down at him and was met with him staring into your eyes. At that moment, his gaze trapped you. You couldn’t look away even if you tried.

He moved to wrap his lips around your clit, suctioning onto the bud. You moaned loudly, not caring who heard you. Your thighs clenched around his head as he sucked hard. His middle finger slid inside, curling up and immediately finding that spongy spot.

Between his attack on your clit and g-spot, you were coming on his mouth. A flash of white-hot heat washed over you as you released onto his tongue. He helped you come down from your high, placing one last kiss to your oversensitive clit before pulling away.

Your thighs ached and you could already feel the beginnings of stubble burn. Rhett rested his head against your stomach, fingertips tracing against the red spot on your hip bone. Your fingers threaded through his hair to pull his head up.

“Come up here, please,” you said, still trying to catch your breath.

He crawled up your body, groaning as you pulled him down into a kiss. Your tongue slid into his mouth, moaning slightly at the taste of yourself on him. You stayed like that for a while, kissing each other and barely pulling away for air. Rhett’s hands groped at your breasts, roughly grabbing at the mounds which caused you to arch up into the touch.

“Want you to ride me while you’re wearing this pretty lingerie. Can you do that, baby?”

“Anything for you, daddy.”

“That’s my good girl. C’mere,” he said, rolling off of you and moving to press his back against the headboard. He maneuvered you into his lap, his waist spreading your thighs. You felt his cock slide between your slick folds, the tip nudging against your clit as you grinded against him.

“Stop being a little cocktease,” Rhett growled, hands gripping your hips to stop your movements. You grinned at him before taking him in your hand, lining him up to slide inside your heat.

You both moaned in unison at the feeling, your walls fluttering around his cock as you were fully seated on him. You stayed like that for a minute, adjusting to his size in this position. Your hands braced themselves on his chest, nails digging into the bull tattoo on his right pectoral.

“Feel s’full,” you slurred out, mustering up all your strength to stay upright.

“Yeah, baby. I can feel you clenching around me. Ride me, sweet girl. Show me how bad you want it.”

Your hands moved to his shoulders, giving you the leverage to raise your hips. His tip was barely inside before you seated yourself down on him again. You continued this speed for a bit, getting into a comfortable rhythm. You started bouncing faster, the head of his cock bumping against your g-spot deliciously. Rhett’s hands kept a bruising grip on your thighs, eyes hooded as he watched you fuck yourself on his cock.

“That’s it, honey. Just like that. Look so perfect riding daddy’s cock.”

You slowed down to a grind, wanting to drag it out as long as you could. Your hands roamed across your own body, groping your breasts and pinching your hardened nipples through the baby blue negligee. He knocked your hands away to replace them with his own, leaning forward to wrap his lips around one nipple.

“When the lady called me Mrs. Abbott, oh, fuck.. you didn’t correct her. Why?” You’re not sure why you brought it up at that moment, but you couldn’t stop yourself.

“Kind of liked the sound of it… Did it make you uncomfortable?”

“No… I really liked the sound of it, too” you said in a hushed tone, like you were exposing one of your deepest secrets. Turns out, you were.

“Oh, yeah? Like the thought of being my wife?”

You nodded as you picked up the pace again, wanting to chase that feeling from earlier.

“You want me to make you Mrs. Abbott? Fill you up and have you full of my baby? Everyone would know you’re mine,” Rhett said.

He gripped your hips and braced his feet onto the mattress, thrusting up into your pussy. The force of it caused you to collapse forward, burying your face into his neck and whining loudly. Your arms wrapped around his shoulders, clinging to him as his brutal thrusts continued.

“Wanna give you that, honey. Wanna give it all to you. Wanna make you an Abbott. Wanna make you a mama, god. Fuck, you feel so good.”

“I want it so bad. Give it to me, Rhett. Give me everything,” you whispered into his ear, nibbling on the earlobe as he moved inside you.

His hand snaked down to your clit, making rough circles against it with his thumb and you were clenching around him before you knew it.

Placing your forehead against Rhett’s to look into those captivating blue eyes as you reached your peak. Your scream got caught in your throat as you came, stars bursting behind your eyelids as Rhett came right after you. His hot release filled you, causing you to whimper.

“Fuck,” he grunted, pulling away and looking down at where you were still connected. You could feel him leaking out of you and it made your head spin. You lifted off of him, gasping when some of his cum trailed down your inner thigh.

“Let’s get you cleaned up, honey.”

He pressed a soft kiss to your temple before getting up and heading to the bathroom to give a wet washcloth. You jerked as he touched your sensitive cunt.

“Shhh, that’s it. You did so good, sweetheart. Always so good for me,” he said, pressing a kiss to your cheek. He helped you under the covers after you finished in the bathroom, wrapping his arms tightly around you to pull you close.

“Rhett?”

“Mhm?”

“Did you mean it? About giving me everything?”

He lost out a sigh before pulling you impossibly closer. His nose brushed along your neck before he spoke.

“I would. I would give you anything you wanted. Honey, you make me so happy. You make my girls happy. I love you, and I know I don’t say it enough, but I do. I want it all with you.”

You couldn’t help from tearing up at his words, fingertips grazing along his forearms before turning to face him.

“I love you, Rhett. I love you so much.”

Your noses knocked together once again, something you noticed that was becoming a habit. You let out a wet laugh as a tear fell and Rhett caught it with his thumb. He kissed your forehead and you snuggled closer to him, throwing a leg over his waist.

“If this whole weekend is gonna be like this, it’ll be hard for me to leave.”

“You’ll miss the girls too much. And besides, I wanna see the town anyways since you dragged me all the way out here. I even brought that dress you love.”

“Woman, you spoil me.”

You fell asleep in Rhett’s arms that night, having a much brighter outlook on your future together. And if you dreamed about Rhett carrying a baby boy on his hip that looked just like him, with a gold wedding band adorning his ring finger… well, you couldn’t control yourself.

tagging those who might be interested: @hangmanapologist @sebsxphia @beachbabey @thesluttyarchivist @lt-natrace @lt-bradshaw @bradshawsbitch @buckys-estrella @withahappyrefrain @basiccortez @therebeccaw @rae-gar-targaryen @nobody7102 @mothdruid

[lenakluthor]

18, 19, 27, 38 for supercorp!!💙

18. What are they like when they're drunk? How do they act together? & when 1 is drunk, while the other one's sober? okay we've seen both of them drunk before, and i feel like that rings true for me. kara is a silly and giggly and probably very touchy feely (with lena only) and lena strikes me as a depressed drunk, especially since we've really only seen her get truly drunk was when she thought she poisoned the city's children with lead. however, i think if she gets drunk with kara she is also probably a little bolder, maybe drops her filter more. she's flirty and much more suggestive. if only one of them is drunk, i think sober lena would be exasperated but also extremely enamored by drunk kara. she'd be so SOFT with her and have a smile on her face the entire time, even when she drags her home to get some rest. and if kara is the sober one, it depends on what mood lena is in. if she's being suggestive, kara would be a blushing, stammering mess until she can get them home where she can actually act on what she wants to do in response. and if drunk lena is depressed, she'd instantly switch to protector mode, adamantly reminding lena of her goodness and threatening to throw anyone who hurts her into space.

19. What do they fight about most often? (Alternative: what was their biggest fight?) i mean, their biggest fight will always be the fallout after kara's identity reveal. and honestly, i think it probably remains the thing they fight about the most for a long time. wounds like that don't just go away, even if you've talked and reconciled and moved past it. sometimes it just hits you (also i'm a SLUT for angst). if we're going with a version of events where kara tells lena in 2x15 (which is when i think kara had the perfect opportunity), i genuinely don't know what they'd fight most about. i've been sitting here thinking about different possibilities, but honestly it feels like they wouldn't really argue over small stuff more than a few times. after that, they just learn to compromise and move forward. (if you're curious, my top choices in that department were food and tactical strategies, but it just felt weird thinking they'd continuously fight over either of those things)

27. Craziest place they had sex? oh, hands down in the air. maybe in space.

38. If/when they have kids, what is their parenting style (or pets-who does what)? hmmm i think i'm gonna go against what i think most people expect and say, in terms of like a "good cop, bad cop" scenario, lena is good cop and kara is bad cop. kara is a fierce protector and it's something she never got to do with kal. and this is their child. she is going to make sure that kid is safe above all else. meanwhile, lena came from a family that never showed love or affection. she'd absolutely be the one to say yes to everything. she'd be more inclined to let their kid have fun and be a kid without the burden of any sort of expectation. not that i think kara wouldn't also shower the kid with copious amounts of love, but she just usually has to be the one to put her foot down.

send me a ship + questions!

[spidervee]

coming soon! -> the good man's grace • tangerine x fem!reader

summary: tangerine doesn't make mistakes. until he does. and it all starts on the day he walks into the owl's hollow, a pretty little bookshop tucked away in an alley somewhere in london. his theft, a collection of poetry from one of his favourites, should be the end of it, but something (or someone) draws him back between the cluttered shelves. the shopkeeper, his sweet sparrow, who may not know his name, but knows much more than she's willing to let on.

a/n: i cannot stop thinking about this man and how he'd fall in love with the sweetest heart only to be (pleasantly?) surprised that she's more than meets the eye so this is my latest brain worm that just won't go away. dropping within the next couple of days! (before 2023)

warnings: 18+ only; canon-typical violence and gore; cursing (like, so fucking much of it); fem!reader who is also bi!reader; britishisms written by a canadian with zero clue; bookshop!reader has no racial or body type descriptors, other than being shorter than tangerine (and having smaller hands than his); kidnapping; non-con photos and a threat of a*sault (but no actual a*sault); protective!tangerine; protective!lemon; smut (fingering, unprotected sex, dirty talk, slight dacryphilia, fantasizing about oral sex); angsty!tangerine; semi-graphic descriptions of injury; bird motif; copious amounts of petnames; unnecessary references to bluey because the author loves that show

preview: The more often he visits, the worse it becomes. 

Tangerine contemplates burning your shop to the ground, only after checking that you’re not inside, of course. All he’d have to do is toss the fuckin' match and walk away. You’d collect a nice little insurance payout and he’d have no more excuses to see you. 

But therein lies the problem. Because as much as it makes no bloody sense, his fucked up brain wants to see you. He wants to see you every day in more places than this cozy little shop you've created and in less clothing than those bloody colourful dresses you're always wearing.

And you?

You think you might be developing a crush on moustache, as you've taken to calling him. Which is stupid because you don’t know anything about him aside from the fact that he’s got a mouth like a sailor and hands that look large enough to wrap around your throat and blue eyes that pierce your very being. And a moustache that reminds you of that seventies porno you'd watched years ago with your college girlfriend, just for shits and giggles. This bloke is the shit romance novels are made of—tall, dark, and handsome—and you’d gladly stock a hundred of them if he were on the cover, even though you like to think your shop is a little more refined than that. 

You watch him over the pages of your book as he weaves in and out of the shelves, a few volumes of poetry in his gloved hands, pointer finger tapping a frenetic beat on the hardback covers. He seems less at ease than usual—in fact, he's downright intense. How utterly Byronic of him.

Making up your mind, you set the book down and step out from behind the waist- high counter, floral skirt swishing about your hips.

“Is everything alright?” 

He blinks at you with those cerulean eyes that sit like sapphires upon his face, framed by fine lines of crow's feet. And then, before he can reply, you bite your lip and try a smile.

“Can I make you a cuppa?” 

[bucknastysbabe]

hear me out: jon whimpers and whines during sex and he makes the cutest faces AND he has a heavy praise kink. Can you write something about him👀??

He’s such a bitch I just know it and NEED IT Jon would prob cum after calling him lord stark of winterfell in bed and cry about it later

Anyways I haven’t written about my fav thing ever inna while ✨~BJS~✨ Sorry for the wait, enjoy❤️

Ratings: Explicit

Tags: Jon snow x free folk!reader, twinky baby virgin Jon, oral(m!receiving), praise kink, he’s a noisy pup, she’s loving IT, soft soft soft, poor jon has so many issues from Catelyn

The crow who cried wilding

“What’s little lord crow doin’ about my tent?,” the free folk woman asked. Her friend, Talla laughed harshly, biting into some sinewy rabbit leg. She retorted, “You haven’t noticed him mooning over you at all?” The other woman grinning, sharpening her knife with a whetstone. Her eyes flickered up to meet the crow’s dark orbs.

His eyes flicked down and he darted away towards Mance’s encampment. She licked her lips, concocting a plan. Turning to Talla she hummed, “I bet he sounds as pretty as a songbird.” The elder guffawed, adding on, “For a tough lad, he’s about green as they come huh?”

She snickered at her friend, imagining the young Lord Commander sniveling and biting his pouty lips under her thighs.

Later on that night, she was retiring to her tent. The free folk, or so deemed wilding had enjoyed mead and merriment for the night. They had a long haul tomorrow— get away from the abominations up north. When the woman ducked to enter the fur lined tent a voice interrupted.

“E-excuse me my lady,” the crow, Jon, stuttered. You could almost pinch his cute cheeks. He stood, eyes averting your gaze, shifting his weight from foot to foot. The wildling chuckled, “I ain’t a lady, what’cha need Lord Crow?” Jon’s freshly shaved cheeks blushed up nicely, plump lips opening to say, “I’ve seen you around, you’re a wonderful spear wife. I wanted to get to know you.”

Putting a hand on your hip, she amusedly smiled and gave the shy lad her name. He stammered, “T-that’s pretty!” Cocking her head she stated, “Well, did you come here to recruit me or get your cock wet? I don’t have all night!” Jon made a soft noise, gloved hand drawing tight on that strange sword. He seemed to be fighting in his head.

In a softer tone she added, “Yer’ not a true free folk if you haven’t broken alllll of the vows. C’mon I’ll be easy, (my lord).” The crow nodded and darted inside, like he was hiding a big secret. Must be a kneeler thing, so devout to their rules and the idea of loyalty. She smiled at his red cheeks, admiring the way he gently put the sword aside and clasped his hands, dark orbs watching the woman intensely.

She pulled off her copious amounts of furs, baring skin in the dark tent. Jon’s breath hitched, his leathers squeaking softly. The wildling purred, “Yer’ a pretty one for a crow. Not one of those old grizzled ones or plump third sons,” she crawled towards the man, “Better lips than most maids.”

The dark haired man whimpered softly, letting her take off his inky cloak. She cooed more praises, making his blood heat up in a way he had never felt. When she shucked down his breeches Jon moaned, “I-I’ve never.” He could see her teeth glinting in the lowlight as she chuckled, “I know sweet lord. Don’t worry about a thing. Jus’ testing the ice.”

He murmured breathlessly, “You’re gorgeous.”

“Thank you, precious.”

Jon felt too hot again, her praises making his cock throb like crazy in the chilly air. He craved the compliments, made that aching hole created from his past tamp down. The spear maid wrapped a tough hand around his cock, pumping the strained flesh. Jon let out an agonized moan, biting down on his lip to be quiet.

She teased, “Can’t have anyone hear the Lord Crow crying like a bitch huh? S’okay we don’t care.”

She slid a thumb over his weeping tip, pressing her wind-bitten lips to his plump ones. Jon whined in his nose, opening up to her insistent pressure. Their mouths smacked together, Jon’s pathetic noises intermingling with her raspy sighs. He lapped at her tongue tentatively, beginning to pant from excitement. She returned the favor, allowing the kiss to get sloppier, wetter, messier.

He moaned into her heated embrace, soft lips already swelling from the pressure and her maddening little nips. Jon warbled her name when the wildling asked, “Ye’ ever got yer’ cock sucked, pretty little crow?” He shook his head dramatically, dark curls bouncing with the movement. She smiled and thumbed at the scars across his eyes, purring, “Yer in for some fun. I bet you cry pretty.”

Jon spasmed under her touch, begging with needy kisses and the subtle spread of his milky thighs. The bastard whined at the loss of her kisses, but quickly returned to ecstasy as she laid lush kisses down the hard, scarred lines of his body. One of her hands maddeningly stroked at the soft skin on Jon’s inner thighs.

She groaned lowly, lapping a fat stripe up Jon’s cock and continuing to dig into his weepy slit. Jon fell back like a chopped ironwood, calloused fingers digging into her crazy hair. He sucked in a breath, exhaling with the most wanton whine.

Pulling back slowly, she cooed, “Yess, that’s it baby crow, just let me take care of ye.”

She moved back to bob on his throbbing length, hollowing her cheeks and stroking the rest. The tent filled with lewd slurping, making the tips of Jon’s even flush up. He held back from shoving himself down the wildling’s throat, instead writhing in place. Jon rambled, “Others take me- s’good. You’re s’good.”

The spearmaid smiled around him, slurping up excess spit and suckling on the fat tip. The hand stroking him swirled right underneath the tip, making the Lord Commander shake and mewl. His brows were pinched, plump bottom lip trapped between his teeth. Jon knew he was getting close, body trembling and singing with pleasure. His lower belly was tight and getting tighter.

She pulled back again for a breath, breathlessly sighing, “Oh my sweet crow, I’m stealing you away fer’ myself. Can’t have such a pretty maid unprotected like this. All mine, boy.” Jon babbled, “Yes, yesyes, let me be yours! I’ll be good to you!” She hummed against his twitching cock, hot breath fanning out, “I know you will. Sweetie.”

When her perfect mouth enveloped Jon again he arched into the touch, whining even louder,

praising the woman in a broken crack. His thighs twitched, cock pulsed. When her lithe fingers pulled at Jon’s heavy balls he came apart with a elongated shout of her name. She pulled off and jacked his hot spend onto her belly, praising Jon again. She cooed, “There we go, got ye all relaxed huh? My baby is always gonna feel good.”

Jon whimpered, blinking away tears. He warbled, “You will always have me?” The wilding whispered with a gentle kiss, “Always sweet crow.” She wiped away his spend carefully, smiling and leaving more praises and pet names. Jon floated happily, sighing in pleasure, clinging to the powerful woman.

[marmorafarms]

NSFW Sebastian head canons

Hey hey hey! I shared my sfw head canons with all y'all regarding our number one boy Sebastian. But it has come to my attention that some nsfw ones should be shared as well!

I definitely have some spicy thoughts, but I'm going to put it under a read more because this post is...

18+ only! Please and thank you!

Okay now on to the fun stuff!

Okay, this first one isn't nsfw, but I need to put it here to provide context for the second bullet point. Sebastian refers to himself as "heteroflexible." That's because the only man he has ever been romantically or sexually interested in is Sam. Imagining himself with other guys makes him cringe, but Sam is different for some reason. (If your farmer is a man, he definitely has a major gay panic about it, and decides to come out as bisexual)

He discovered this in high school. He was 16, and someone made fun of him for never having kissed anyone. Sebastian complained to Sam about this when hanging out in his room after school. Sam said he could help out and give Sebastian his first kiss. After some consideration, Sebby agreed, and it ended with them both cumming in their pants after dry humping the shit out of each other.

Sebastian called himself a virgin up until he and the farmer had their first time together, specifically with penetrative sex. But he technically wasn't. He has given Sam plenty of blow jobs, and Sam has enthusiastically returned the favor.

The farmer laughed for approximately 10 hours when Sebastian told them this, and he tried to say "blow jobs don't count as sex!"

They definitely do Sebby. You just meant you hadn't had penetrative sex.

Sebby has what Sam calls "dick sucking lips." His mouth is definitely pretty. His lips are nice and full, and he likes having his lower lip bitten.

His nipples are super sensitive. He loves having them touched, licked, bitten, and sucked on. He can come untouched from nipple stimulation alone.

He loves giving oral. Pussy or dick, he doesn't care. He LOVES IT. He especially likes eating pussy because he can just keep going and give his partner multiple orgasms if they let him.

If he's sucking dick, he swallows every time. If his partner wants to give him a facial, he always sticks his tongue out in the hopes of getting some in his mouth

He is always down for a threesome. His preferred third is either Sam or Haley. The farmer is shocked by the revelation that he's dtf Haley, but Sebastian says it's because she's a freak in bed. Or so he's heard. And as it turns out, the rumors are very much true.

He enjoys getting pegged. He enjoys it A LOT.

Anal was never something that had even crossed Sebastian's mind, and he was against it as soon as it was suggested. This is true no matter what junk your farmer has. He doesn't see the appeal and doesn't think there is any way it could feel good.

When the farmer tells him about prostate stimulation, he agrees to try being fingered, but chickens out the first few times. But when it finally happens...he's obsessed.

He's pretty submissive in bed, but is a great dom when asked to play that role.

Loves tying people up and being tied up.

Likes breath play, but was insistent about doing copious amounts of research on how to do it properly.

He prefers to be the one choked, but will do it for you if you ask. Again, he refused to do it until he was positive he knew what he was doing.

Getting his hair pulled is a huge turn on for him. He will let out a truly pornographic moan if you pull it hard.

He does not like face fucking others, but enjoys having it done to him.

Sit on his face. Just do it. He absolutely loves it and will hold your hips TIGHT so that you can't budge an inch once your pussy is on his mouth.

His dick is on the thicker side, and he's a bit longer than average. He wouldn't refer to himself as hung, but he's a good size.

Going bareback was a goddamn religious experience for him, but it completely ruined sex with a condom for him. He'll wear one without complaint if asked, but it takes him a lot longer to even feel good, let alone cum.

Can and will wear anything you want him to. Costumes? Whatever you want. Lingerie? Just tell him your favorite color.

Loves to make out. Like yes, fucking is great, but he absolutely adores long make out sessions. They don't have to end with orgasms, but he won't complain if they do.

Has a huge thing for formal wear. As soon as you entered the farmhouse after the wedding, he was all over you.

Loves to take sex slow, but isn't opposed to a quickie if that's what you're in the mood for.

And that's what I have for right now! Let me know what you think!

[belit0]

Hey can you write a scenario NSFW content for indra where he goes for long drive with his s/o and some times later he just stop by roadside and fucks her s/o hard even some shops are open there and some hear mouning noises but still he didn't stop 😅😅 sorry it was little long detail

Love your writing 💗 love you ☺️

This is a scenario i personally love so fucking much, so im happy someone asked for it!!!

For context, this is the truck i picture Indra driving,

(Y/N) shifts restlessly in her seat, trying to concentrate on the book she is reading but unable to comprehend the words in front of her eyes, forcing herself to evaluate the same page about three times before she can switch to the next.

"What's got you so weird? You haven't made any progress with your reading." That husky, deep voice comments with indifference, not even glancing at her to speak. How he pays attention to the road and what she's doing, all at the same time, (Y/N) has no idea, but she knows there's no safer place in the world than her husband's truck.

Hair tied in a high ponytail for comfort, casual clothes, elbow resting on the edge of his lowered window, and holding his head with one hand while using the other to drive, the man seems calm, navigating the highway without a worry in mind.

"You didn't tell me where we're going."

"Do you really need to know?" Indra comments with little emotion, and she figures that having her with no information regarding their destination must be the most interesting part of the whole trip for him. He enjoys the desperation she suffers for the unknown and relishes it without restraint.

"It would be a nice gesture."

"I doubt it would be necessary."

They have been on the road for over an hour, but he seems immune to the rigid position in which he must drive. Having finally decided to take a long vacation and leave the company in Madara's care, the Otsutsuki determined to spend his month off away from home.

The problem is, he never revealed where he intended to go, and his only instructions when it came to packing were to take copious amounts of various clothes, prepare for being away a good while, and whatever was necessary to adapt to different kinds of weather.

That same morning, her husband woke her up with some wonderful head-spinning early sex, then showered and began loading his RAM truck with several suitcases.

When (Y/N) asked what he was doing, the only answer was "Check your phone." Upon doing so, she found a long list of things to pack in the vehicle, yet what struck her the most was the insinuating clarification of wearing a short skirt.

Accustomed to the little information her man always provides, she played along, and they have been at it since they left the house.

"Are we going to a hotel? Airbnb? Warm, cold, moderate destination?" (Y/N) asks with trepidation, looking out the window and appreciating the arrival to the first rural town since they left. It's a small one, reduced in size and inhabitants, the perfect spot to pick up some supplies and move on.

She closes the book she has been unintentionally ignoring since they left, and leaves it under her seat, preparing to get out of the vehicle and probably have to do some shopping.

Without answering but sporting an infuriating smirk on his face, Indra effortlessly parks in front of a store, wedging the huge truck as if it were a small convertible between two parked cars, "I'm going to buy cigarettes, yet by the time I get back, I want you in the back seat with no underwear on."

"What?"

"Back seat, no underwear."

"But-"

"I'm not asking you."

The man climbs down without giving her room to argue, having not even glanced at her to verify the effectiveness of his words, and (Y/N) can only watch him walk away down the street, entering a busy storefront.

He seems to totally rely on the obedience he built up in her from the beginning of their relationship, knowing his wife will not complain and comply with his orders. Said and done, she has no choice but to slide her underwear down her legs, leaving the discarded garment on his seat.

She evaluates what would be the most convenient way to move to the back, whether to get out of the truck and get back in, or simply go through between the seats, yet she ends up choosing the latter option, feeling too exposed with nothing on.

(Y/N) makes a wonderful show with her ass in the air as she passes to the back, and it bothers her to realize she's already wet just by the tone of voice in which her man spoke to her. Her mind travels in possibilities as she waits for him to return, wondering what Indra might have planned and somewhat embarrassed by the people walking by on the sidewalk.

The town is small, but he decided to park on the main street, where passersby abound and privacy is reduced.

(Y/N) watches through the tinted window as different people enter the adjacent store, chatting among themselves and laughing, failing to notice the moment her husband opens the opposite door, climbing into the truck with a cigarette in his mouth.

He doesn't have it lit, and as he settles in next to her, he places it over his ear, saving it for later.

She immediately spreads her legs, surrendering to his game and whatever he wants from her, causing the Otsutsuki to utter a "good girl" in her ear upon touching and feeling her wet. (Y/N) can't help but moan, quickly covering her mouth as she remembers there are people right outside. They can't see them through the tint on the windows, but hearing them is a different matter.

"I will make you finish in every town we visit before we reach our destination. There's about a dozen or so on the way, so I'd suggest you prepare accordingly." Indra comments without any discernible emotion in his speech, one elbow resting on the back of the back seat as he holds his head with the same hand, touching her with the other.

If it weren't for the satisfied expression he particularly wears in his cynical smile, (Y/N) would think it doesn't affect him at all to have her melting in his fingers. He slowly rubs her clit, while looking over her head to watch the people come and go.

When he increases the pace, (Y/N) moans again, forgetting the context for a moment and enjoying the stimulations as if they were at home. As he lowers the intensity, solely to tease her and delay her pleasure, she whispers "Please... so many people there...", knowing that any pleading she expresses will probably be in vain.

"Yeah... that's exactly why you should keep quiet. Don't make any noise." Her husband's eyes narrow at his own delight in torturing her, while again increasing the pace and making her throw her head back.

(Y/N) squeezes the seat with both hands, trying to concentrate all her efforts on keeping her mouth shut, but when two fingers thrust into her and push up, everything goes to hell. Touching the area only he knows how to work, her mind goes blank at the sensation, instantly moaning loudly.

Her sounds spur him on, and she neglects to notice how people watch the truck intently, trying to decide if what they hear is disturbing or not. (Y/N) continues to moan under his hands, and when Indra devours her with his tongue in a passionate kiss, she finally forgets the situation.

As he penetrates her both ways, her moans increase in volume but are stifled by him, aiding with the task he himself gave her, "Scream fucking loud, make everyone hear you." He contradicts himself in his instructions, but the way he urges it within two centimeters of her lips while her pussy is dominated by those expert fingers, leaves no room for doubt.

(Y/N) gives him what he wants, carelessly moaning as she would in the comfort of their bed, causing all eyes on the street to alarmingly fixate on them. Just as she is about to finish, a tap on Indra's window brings him to a complete halt, and without losing his cool, he lowers it just enough for his eyes to be seen, yet not what is going on inside.

He loves to humiliate her, but only he can see her in such a state.

"Sir... hi, I don't mean to intrude but... is everything okay?"

"I'm just giving my wife an orgasm; you may return to your own thing." His response shocks the poor person who pretended to care about them so badly that there is no answer, and they stare stupidly at the vehicle as the Otsutsuki rolls up the window again.

"We'll have to get this over with later." He declares as he abandons his task, leaving her on the verge of pleasure and not giving her what he himself indicated. Frustrated and desperate, she tries to continue touching herself and finish, but her man stops her hand forcefully before moving between the seats and sitting down in front of the steering wheel.

"None of that, I'm the only one who can make you cum."

[vladimpale]

haikyuu fic rec

this mainly consists of rare pairs. these are only the ones i bookmarked in the last few months, because my dumbass didn't think to save the fics they liked before. here somewhere are also series and i highly recommended them, 10/10 would cry again. this got really long so the list is under the cut

bokuto/akaashi/kuroo/tsukishima

Stupid boys talking and maybe some smut by Smokey310

series | works: 9 | 225k

Our own little magic by blueberrytoast19

incomplete(3/?) | 9k | Teen And Up Audiences

"Nature has a way of beautifully reminding us what man seems to have forgotten. We were created out of love, to be loved and to love one another" A magic and madness filled Witch au, in which Tsukishima finds everything he wasn't looking for and more, deep in the woods.

From One Ocean to the Other by insertsomethingwitty, L_E_D

incomplete(10/11) | 53k | Explicit

“He’s cheating! Don’t you care about the—the integrity of the game?” “Oh, I think integrity left this car a long time ago." Or: four pining idiots decide the best way to get over each other is to spend multiple days locked in a car together.

The Devils Downstairs by OhNoItsOikawa

complete(42/42) | 101k | Teen And Up Audiences

The people living below Tsukishima Kei's new apartment just so happen to be godless heathens who are enjoying their twenties maybe a little too much, and he just so happens to be the newest recruit into their cult of Nonsense and Shenanigans. Everyone is a little in love with each other but none of them have realized it yet, and Oikawa Tooru dresses horribly.

It might be crazy (I do it anyway) by normalfault

complete(5/5) | 14k | Teen And Up Audiences

“Can we make out on the beach?” Bokuto asked excitedly. Akaashi groaned, hitting his head against the chair in front of him. The lady in the seat turned around to glare at him, and he apologized profusely. “Why are you asking that now?” Akaashi asked weakly. Kuroo laughed loudly, drawing looks from around them. Akaashi was going to die here. He hoped the plane crashed. --- 4 times Tsukki gets drugged and 1 time it finally happens to someone else

oikawa/kuroo/akaashi

Tales of the Volleyball Sexual as told by Akaashi Keiji by lilvamp23

incomplete(5/?) | 9k | Mature

Keiji questioned a lot of things in his life. What does Crochet and Chill really mean? Was it supposed to include copious amounts of food, sketchy websites, and his entire wardrobe displayed all over his bed? He doesn’t think so. Why did he even let Shirofuku into his home? She’s a menace to his mental health. Does he find Kuroo attractive? Probably, he supposes that he is nice to look at and nice to talk to. Does that mean he wants to have sex with him? He doesn’t know. How is he supposed to know that? He just wants to go back to crocheting his little owls without contemplating the meaning of his life. Please and thank you.

akaashi/bokuto/kuroo

Pyriform Silk by Depths

incomplete(7/?) | 17k | General Audiences

Akaashi had enough trouble just trying to exist as an empath. Going to university and needing a place to stay was just another hurdle. At least the roommate offer he found online wasn't made by humans. He would far rather live with whatever flavor of supernatural his two new roommates were going to be than risk trying to live with a human.

Oh Pretty Baby by avagueidea

complete(13/13) | 23k | Teen And Up Audiences

Akaashi is possibly the only reason Bokuto and Kuroo even managed to get together in the first place. Now he just has to remember that fact while he helps Bokuto balance raising his infant daughter with a long distance relationship. If only he didn't think Kuroo was absolutely perfect for Bokuto, it might not matter that he was in love with him...

sakusa/atsumu

Three Sheets to the Wind by fairycake

complete(16/16) | 117k | Mature

The last place on earth Sakusa Kiyoomi wants to be is on this godforsaken ship sailing across the seas to attend a boring science lecture, but it is a necessary evil if he wishes to avoid attending his grandmother's birthday celebrations. That is, until his ship is boarded by a band of pirates and Kiyoomi finds himself in extremely unwanted company. He can cope with most of the rambunctious crew; though they're armed to the hilt, they're relatively harmless. He cannot, however, cope with human hurricane Miya Atsumu.

a thousand winds that blow by Gray_Herring

complete(1/1) | 18k | Teen And Up Audiences

Motoya is dead, but the Earth keeps spinning. Kiyoomi is alive, and he keeps spinning, too.

Again, until it's perfect by fairycake

complete(1/1) | 18k | Teen And Up Audiences

“Or what about Ushijima?” That catches Kiyoomi’s attention, and he stops in the middle of the street to turn around and scowl at Atsumu. “What about Ushijima?” Atsumu must tilt his head back to smirk up at Kiyoomi from beneath the visor of his cap. “He’s not workin’ on quicks. You’d be a step ahead of him if ya did. He might even raise an eyebrow in surprise or somethin’ equally as scandalous.” Kiyoomi stares at him, narrows his gaze as he scrutinises Atsumu’s face, the challenge in the upturned corners of his lips. “Are you attempting to manipulate me, Miya?” he asks. “I dunno. Is it workin’?” “Kind of.” “Then yeah, I guess.” ______________________ When Kiyoomi and Atsumu accidentally pull off a minus-tempo quick during practice, Atsumu convinces Kiyoomi to practice it for the new season. It's sort of inevitable that he convinces Kiyoomi to fall in love with him too.

yahaba/kyoutani

An Equivalent Exchange by MonkWrites

complete(4/4) | 14k | Explicit

"Years ago, you promised your firstborn to a witch. Since then, despite your best efforts, you can’t seem to get laid. The witch is starting to get pretty pissed."

I (Heart) You by darkmagicalgirl

complete(1/1) | 3k | Teen And Up Audiences

When Kyoutani comes back from the dead, Yahaba is sitting on the headstone the next row over and reading a magazine.

Mixed Signals by snoqualmie

complete(1/1) | 7k | Teen And Up Audiences

Feelings are definitely a thing he’s having. Kyoutani is really sweet. He’s family oriented and he prefers novels with female leads and he’s in all honors classes. He kind of has a big head, totally has a big smile, definitely has a big heart. His eyes are nice, he’s got that dimple. Yahaba groans and rubs his fists into his eyes.

fuel to burn by knightswatch

complete(1/1) | 4k | Mature

Kentarou is coal. Kentarou does not have a diamond inside of him.

meet me at the fucking pit (and let me hold your hand) by anyadisee

complete(1/1) | 5k | Teen And Up Audiences

“Yoo-hoo~ Oh my, why the dark faces, everyone?” Oikawa asks as he walks into the room, Iwaizumi right by his heels. Kunimi, who had been looking bored the entire time, picks up the piece of paper and loudly reads the two sentences written in thick black ink and an angry-looking scrawl across its surface. “Yahaba, meet me at the lot behind the old Humanities building, 6PM. Don’t bring anyone, and don’t be late. That’s what it says.” The room falls silent once more. Then, “Holy shit, Yahaba-chan, who did you cross this time?” [in which yahaba receives a vaguely threatening letter, and kyoutani disappears from practice.]

Presentability by darkmagicalgirl

complete(1/1) | 2k | Teen And Up Audiences

“Oh for— I mean we’ll be in public,” Yahaba said. “Representing our school. We could be on TV. Our old upperclassmen might come to watch.” “Our team, not my face,” Kyoutani had pointed out, feeling very reasonable. “Your face is a part of this team!” Yahaba looked about five seconds away from stamping his heels ineffectually, or, like, putting his fist through the wall. You could never tell with that guy.

Mint and Pine by snoqualmie

complete(1/1) | 6k | Teen And Up Audiences

Yahaba yanks at Kyoutani’s uniform in the club room and ties his tie so tight after morning practice that sometimes Kyoutani thinks he’s trying to fucking strangle him.

bokuto/akaashi

run rabbit run by norio

complete(1/1) | 6k | Teen And Up Audiences

Rule #1: Don't hurt Akaashi. Rule #2: Don't taint Akaashi. Rule #3: Don't involve Akaashi. Rule #4: Don't damage Akaashi. Rule #5 (optional): Try not to destroy yourself.

cotton game by mydamantiumheart

complete(2/2) | 18k | Explicit

It starts out innocent- as innocent as it can be, at least. It only goes downhill from there. It's just that sometimes, Koutarou can't help spinning a million miles per second, and he needs someone to slow him down. Feat. nonsexual bondage + kink leading into (gradually sexual) kink exploration, Keiji helping Koutarou's brain quiet down, and stupid boys falling in love.

kuroo/tsukishima

greek tragedy by ineedmygirl

series | works: 2 | 184k

yaku/lev

Item 37 by invoked_duplicity

complete(1/1) | 2k | General Audiences

Yaku likes to keep lists. His newest list is about all the things he dislikes about a certain, very tall someone.

kuroo/daishou/mika

you can have everything, i give it willingly by eurydicees

complete(1/1) | 12k | Teen And Up Audiences

She and Suguru have been dating since they were seventeen. It’s strange, really, because she loves him, but she’s also not as mad as she should be while she watches Kuroo watch Suguru. She’s not as upset as she should be when she sees Suguru look back at him. In which Kuroo pines, Suguru refuses to acknowledge it, and Mika meddles in places she isn’t quite sure she has the right to meddle. It's not a picture perfect love, but it is theirs.

suga/daichi

in between evenings by thispieceofmind

complete(4/4) | 31k | Mature

Then, those eyes crinkle up with the perfect smile, the one Suga sees on Daichi’s face only sometimes, and Daichi adds, “I like when it’s just us.” Suga can feel it on his face that he’s grinning back, and when he sits up, too, his head spins for a moment. He places a hand on Daichi’s knee to steady himself. His lip quirks when he notes, just shy of teasingly, “It’s usually just us, Daichi.” The thing about falling in love with your best friend is that it happens so slow.

Ice Ice Baby by nastyhobbitsses

complete(1/1) | 2k | Teen And Up Audiences

confessions of a teenage volleyball captain by solyn

complete(1/1) | 14k | Teen And Up Audiences

“Is this better? Am I real enough for you yet? Am I permanent? Can you successfully objectify me, Sawamura-kun?” or: Daichi confesses... but does he really?

kuroo/akaashi

so hot you're hurting my feelings (can't deal) by flickercity

complete(1/1) | 9k | Mature

"And with that his eyes had flickered on Akaashi’s face for just a moment and the idle fleeting thought that Kuroo was maybe....sexy....had crossed Akaashi’s mind." OR Kuroo and Akaashi want to kiss each other and it gets wildly out of hand.

Line thieves by hyugapineapple

complete(1/1) | 1k | Genetal Audiences

“You’re a pain in the ass sometimes, Keiji.” Kuroo whispers with no heat in his voice, pressing his forehead against Akaashi’s. “Isn’t that my line?” “Nope!” Tetsurou chirps happily. “Don’t you know? Research says that couples tend to adopt each other’s habits over years. I have full rights to use that line now.”

Would you rather be with me? by oopsthisisqueertoo

complete(1/1) | 3k | Teen And Up Audiences

“So. Would you rather explore space or the ocean?” Akaashi crumples his eyebrows and looks over at Kuroo in the dark. Their power had gone out at the dorm, so they were laying on the living room floor under every blanket they owned. To make matters worse, it was a holiday weekend and everyone Akaashi knew had gone home, making him stuck alone with pain-in-the-ass-Kuroo-san. In the Winter. With no power. It was every fan-fic writer’s wet dream. Akaashi wanted to die. Or, me needing to get some roommate KuroAka fluff and sass out of my system.

Somehow It Works by helwolves

complete(1/1) | 3k | Explicit

Keiji looks Kuroo up and down, taking in the ridiculous red wizard robe, the knee-high boots, the sharp black lines defining his sharper eyes, the carved foam horns nestled in his wild hair. It really should not be working for him—and yet. Shenanigans behind the scenes of Final Haikyuu Quest, concerning one cameraman and one best supporting demon.

hinata/kageyama/kenma

love fills you out by joshllyman

complete(1/1) | 2k | General Audiences

Hinata bounces upstairs—literally; Kageyama is, for a moment, concerned the floor might give underneath the weight of his excitement—and into Kageyama’s room. “Come with us!” he half-shouts. Kageyama narrows his eyes. “Where and why?” Hinata rolls his eyes and smiles, like he knows Kageyama’s been listening. “We’re going to the sushi shop, Bakageyama. Me and Kenma.” Kageyama frowns. “And you want me to come along?”

[butmakeitgayblog]

Besides copious amounts of sex, how does Lexa help Clarke cope with empty nest syndrome?

Other than sex?

Working. She asks her to help grade papers and transcribe notes for a research paper she wants to eventually publish. Suddenly she just has to rearrange their home studio and also decides maybe it would be a fun idea if Clarke started a little website to sell some of her ever growing mound of pottery taking up space on the shelves around the kiln 🤷‍♀️

She knows Clarke is someone who thrives when she has a mission and things to accomplish so she just... suddenly has a lot of things she simply can't manage to get done without Clarke's help 😌

[plaindangan]

After hearing how much attention and money Kotoko’s motivation machine has been getting Miu figures she can make something way better than that ankle biter.

It was successfully she has created the most lewdest and complex sex machine ever that will leave any person in a blissful state of mind numbing pleasure. Now all she needed was a few test subjects, she decided on Mikan and Akane (her endurance and stamina can test the machines longevity).

She easily got Mikan over but couldn’t find Akane anywhere cause she was busy offering Yuta a good time in exchange for donuts. Unfortunately for a frustrated Miu it seems the machine’s voice activation mistook her for Akane and will now motivate her and Mikan.

When Kaede found Miu and Mikan after the machine shut down from overheating she went to call Kirumi to clean up them and the room cause it’s happened again.

Disclaimer: R18 material! If not to your liking then please do not view!

Press play?

The recording started with Miu posing in front of the camera, pearly white teeth beaming and confidence ever beaming from where she stood. Behind him was the machine of the hour which, from the outset, just looked like a metallic chair with a very nervous, naked, Mikan, strapped into it. 

“Greetings, bastards and bitches!!!! It is I, the greatest inventor who has ever lived, Miu Iruma!!! I’m here to demonstrate something that all virgins and coomers will be jizzing themselves to for the rest of their lonely lives. Introducing the SEX-INATOR V3!!!!”

“Lonely on prom night? Have some shameful secrets that need to be resolved without getting thrown into the slammer? Date couldn’t make it since she was too busy bouncing on a dildo instead? HAH! Fuckin’ losers!! But! Don’t fret, I’m not here to just make fun of you!! I’m here to show my machine can give you all that you want and more! To prove it, I brought in two whores!! First Mikan Tsumiki!!”

“O-o-oh, um…hi!!”

“Shut it, skank.” Ignoring Mikan’s cries, Miu skipped over to…an empty chair. “And this here is Akane Owari………………..if she was fucking here!!!!!!!!!!!” Growling, Miu took out her phone and called her.

“Oi, bimbo, why the Hell aren’t you here?!!...Eh?!!! The fuck you mean you’re sucking off Yuta?!! Bitch, you’re supposed to save that shit for my machine!!! What?!!! The Hell do you mind ‘just gonna have to find a replacement’ the recording already started!! Where am I going to find a thicc slut in such short notiiiiiiiiiii-!!!!!!!!” As she was ranting, one could see a pair of black gloved hands rise from the machine, slowly make their way over to Miu…before pouncing. One covered her mouth, two hooked around her arms and one to her legs. They all forced Miu into the spare seat, and it was then that-

…

“Huh, looks like the recording got cut-off here…?” Kaede muttered. Though, she could hazard a guess as to what happened. She glanced at the two girls currently being helped by Kirumi. Mikan was covered in copious amounts of thick, white, ‘cream’, with a face that seemed permanently in a look of ‘ecstastic bliss’. A blindfold rested messily on her left boob, several dildos were shoved up her ass, two fake fingers seemed stuck in her pussy, and that wasn’t even getting into the collar around her neck (which was being held tightly by another hand).

As for Miu? It seemed like she got the ‘worst’ of it. If Mikan was stuck in a look of pleasure, Miu was just simply stuck in a look of ‘mindblowing shock’ and one could hazard a guess as to how. Both of her nipples had clamps on them, and on her belly was a broken ball gag…among others strewn all over the floor. Her left cheek had a hand vicegripping it, while her right was paddled right. That’s not even getting into just how many spiked dildo’ were currently calling Miu’s pucker their home, or the heavy vibrator still active on her pussy. Occasionally, she would even squirt again, let out a low moan, before going back to her frozen state.

All, Kaede and Kirumi could do was shake their head and gradually get both out of there.

(Yeah, looks as if Kotoko can keep her sex machine monopoly)

[halfd3af]

Dilation Experiences From a Trans Man with MRKH

content warning: anatomical terminology, non-sexually transmitted gynecological illnesses, self pleasure + sex

I’m going to get extremely honest with stuff in this post, so there’s your second warning.

In May 2022, I decided to try dilating. I didn’t have any assistance in setting this up because back in 2018, I had seen a specialist to learn how to dilate and remembered enough + googled tips on how to do it correctly.

Something that I did to make it more interesting was using a vibrator for clitoral stimulation while dilating. It vastly seems to ease the muscle tightness that you’re trying to improve with dilation in the first place, and I think it also made the process much quicker toward reaching a typical depth. I was able to dilate almost every day because of it.

But after two months, when I was starting to use sex toys instead of dilators because I didn’t feel like buying bigger ones, I had my first UTI.

Then I had my second, then my third, and when I finally went to Planned Parenthood last October for help with my fourth UTI in less than 3 months, as I had been seeing MinuteClinics or my PCP until that point, I apparently had a yeast infection and bacterial vaginosis too.

I remember before that appointment, worrying and worrying that I had messed up dilating, or that something else was horribly wrong, but when I met who would become My Favorite Medical Professional Ever, she assured me that I looked very average, despite the caveat of the trio of illnesses.

But after getting treatment, I still kept having those infections come back, especially when UTI antibiotics and BV pills can cause yeast infections and create a never ending circle, so we tried brainstorming different ideas with each visit.

Some trans men on testosterone use vaginal estrogen cream to maintain the necessary balances because HRT can disrupt it… but for someone with MRKH, who has a “schrodinger’s vagina” as I like to call it, the opening doesn’t stay open unless something is inside it, so any kind of topical medicine won’t stay in. It wouldn’t be effective as a preventative measure.

It wasn’t my underwear, it wasn’t my shower hygiene, I wasn’t having copious amounts of sex, my sex toys were being cleaned properly and the materials were safe, I wasn’t incorrectly wiping after I pee—we just couldn’t figure out what was wrong. The UTIs kept coming back and then the other two would usually follow after the antibiotics would wipe out the good bacteria. She only knew how to treat non-intersex trans men—she had never treated an intersex trans man before.

So, I finally went ahead and scheduled with the top MRKH specialist in the United States up in Boston, because I had seen this very same man back in 2018. He and his clinic are incredibly trans friendly, too, now and even back then.

When I got there, I got a very good grade in pussy, which is a very normal thing to want and achieve. I had indeed dilated correctly, but I finally figured out that my angle was slightly off and was causing friction against my urethra. That had been the mysterious cause of the UTIs.

I haven’t had a UTI since correcting for that, but since July 2022, I’ve had:

6 UTIs

7 yeast infections

4 instances of bacterial vaginosis

I was also told by this specialist that my vagina is trying to “create a biome” and that could explain the yeast infections being so recurrent. My vagina wasn’t even a year old, so it was trying to play catchup. With that in mind, I take a probiotic every day or at least every other day, and I haven’t had an infection in several months since starting that routine.

However, he never really told me any other good preventative measures beyond “kegels”, which would not solve the infection issues whatsoever. It was good to figure out the friction issue, and he suggested I see a urologist if the UTIs continued (they haven’t), but that was about it. I didn’t really get a confirmation if this hell would actually stop or not.

Maybe in time my vagina will become less sensitive to minute disruptions, and I think it already has since I first began dilating, but it still feels like I have to be hyper-vigilant of anything that would cause an infection again. BV pills are the nastiest, bitterest things I’ve ever taken, and they make me constantly nauseous during the length of the prescription, so I don’t exactly like getting sick all the time.

Regardless, I did all of this just so I can have vaginal sex. Despite the dozens of antibiotic and antifungal and antibacterial pills I’ve had to take, it’s worth it in my opinion. This is where I’ll definitely get more honest, so third warning.

Even though a sexual partner wouldn’t be able to feel a difference, I’ve noticed that something might be different with the vaginas of people who have MRKH because, well, we (generally) don’t have cervixes or uteruses. The tissue feels a ton more malleable, in my experience (I’ve had larger partners with no pain issues beyond initial insertion), but it could also be that my muscles are incredibly relaxed. I could continue with further thoughts on the topic, but I’m unsure if those are unique experiences to me or if they’re actually common, so I might just save them for another post if I’m feeling up for it.

In conclusion, I hope that talking about my experiences helps anyone, and I’m also willing to discuss anything further in depth if needed! I don’t want anyone to feel as alone and nervous as I did for so many months because of how little information there is for dilating/gynecological health when you’re intersex.