#she’ll still grow???? but like… Takes A While.

[sapphic-kpop-fics]

Under the table (Miyawaki Sakura x Reader)

Smut

It was a free day in the life of Le Sserafim, most the members deciding to lazily hang around the down as opposed to going out, the exhausting comeback getting the best of them.

You and your girlfriend Sakura were no different, you were laying in bed on your phone while she was sitting at her computer playing video games all day. She had been there since the morning, after giving you adequate attention as you woke up of course, but it had been hours since she more than gave you a small peck in between games and as you’re scrolling twitter you get a mischievous idea sure to win your girlfriends attention so you make your way to her desk putting you hands on her shoulders making her jump at the sudden appearance and sliding them down so your arms are around her neck.

“Baby..” you start, lips right next to her ear, you can see the way goosebumps appear on her skin as you speak, your plan was working already.

“Hm?” Sakura hums, eyes still locked on the screen even as her focus is being shook by you.

“Pay attention to me.”

“I’m in the middle of a game, my love” Her monotonous voice tells you most of her focus is still on the screen in front of her, her long fingers moving quickly on the keyboard which doesn’t help how needy you are for her.

“So?” You finally say when you break focus from her hands, a pout that you can hear resting on your lips.

“I can’t pause.”

God, she was no better than a man sometimes, gaming all hours of the day. It was a rare sight but one that left you needy and attention starved at the end of the day.

Huffing you pull her chair out slightly causing her have a panicked look in her eyes, “hey!” She exclaims, annoyance taking over her features. Ignoring her reaction you sit in her lap sideways, arms around her neck as you put your head on her shoulder. Sakura just sighs and pulls her chair back to the desk, rushing to continue her game as your distraction caused her character to lose some XP.

At first you just sit there, watching her play until the end of the game when you think she’ll finally get off and give you attention, but when she starts a whole new game you get frustrated, huffing into her neck.

“What’s wrong, baby?” Sakura asks after a few minutes, tired of your passive aggressive sighing and moving around on her lap, as she hides her character in game so she can talk to you.

“You’re ignoring me.” You pout.

“No I’m not.” Your girlfriend chuckles at your dramatics, since joining her on her lap she’s given you plenty of forehead kisses and little compliments but that simply wasn’t enough as there was a growing heat between your legs, “This is the last game I promise, and then we’ll do whatever you want.” She ends her sentence with a kiss, this time on your lips and despite your effort to deepen it she pulls away with a knowing smile and refocuses her eyes on her screen.

You try to wait for her to finish but these games go on for so long, what do you mean you have to wait 30 more minutes for your girlfriend to touch you. As you rest your head against her, your lips are already brushing against her neck so you move forward to fully connect, and you can feel Sakura’s breath hitch as she mutters a “fuck.” when one of her opponents injures her. You continue to press light kisses on her neck and jaw which was a clenched as she tried focusing back on her game.

“Baby.” Her voice makes it sound like a warning

“Hm?”

“Stop.”

“I’m not doing anything.” This causes her to finally look at you for a second with bewildered eyes.

“You’re distracting me.” She insists as she starts playing again.

You get off of her lap, Sakura seemingly letting out a sigh of relief and you don’t miss how she slightly presses her thighs together. You quickly get on your knees in front of her chair making her eyes widen and look down to you.

“Y/n, what are you doing?”

“Keep playing, let me take care of you” you whisper, looking up to her, and she gives in too quickly and tries to keep playing. You place your hands on her thighs, sliding them up to her hips and pulling her slightly so she’s closer to the edge. She’s wearing sweatshorts that ride up on her thighs, you place a few kisses or well marks on her thighs causing sighs and whines from the older girl. Her hands go to your hair as she closes her eyes for a second before you pull away from her causing a confused look from the blonde.

“Keep playing or I’ll stop.” You tell her, sure Sakura was usually the more dominant one in bed but sometimes she let you take control.

She sighs deeply as she lifts her shaky hands back to her keyboard and her eyes follow, as a reward you pull her shorts and underwear off and throw them across the room. You resume your open mouth kisses on her thighs but this time you go higher, your girlfriend moves in her chair while she pretends her focus is on the game. Your hands lift her legs to rest on your shoulders, leaning in to lick a stripe from her entrance to her clit, moaning at the taste while she lets out a whimper bucking her hips when you don’t do anything else. You hear her character lose health as she curses under her breath trying to continue to play.

“Focus.” You remind her before you lean back in, this time devouring her as soon as you make contact with her.

“Fuck.” One hand goes to your hair to pull you closer, you pull away slightly.

“What did I say?” Surprising Sakura with your dominance, but she listens and returns her hand to the keyboard. You resume your movements but this time you thrust two fingers inside of her without giving her time to adjust which pulls a loud moan from her. Your girlfriend’s shaky hands stay on the keyboard, you’re surprised that she’s still alive in the game. The only noises heard in the room were her game, your mouth against her pussy, and the little moans coming from her mouth.

“Fuck this.” Sakura says suddenly, and you hear her game as her character takes a lot of hits, she’s seemingly letting her character die so she can finally stop and touch you, the inability to tangle her fingers in your hand or dig her nails into your shoulders. When her screen finally flashes with a “you died” page, her hands go straight to your hair pulling you closer.

“Oh my god” a string of whimpers and curses leave her mouth as her walls tighten and her thighs shake and trap you in between her legs.

“Gonna cum baby?” You mumble against her.

“Mhm.” Her head frantically nods as she gets her release and raising her hips so you’re as close as possible to her. You continue your movements until she stills and her moans turn to whines. Looking up to her with a smile as she drips from your chin.

“Ready to give me attention now?” You ask, causing her to look down at you and shake her head with a smile, now that you’ve had your fun a dominance ignites in her eyes and you know she’ll get you back for distracting her from her game. She grips the front of your shirt with one hand and leans down to pull you into a kiss, moving her hand to wrap loosely around your throat.

“Get on the bed.”

[sunarc]

Dilf Toji fucks you nice and slow when you’re done putting Megumi down for bed. He wants to thank you for being so good to him and his son. As a single dad it gets hard so when you came into the picture offering your services it was hard to deny such a genuine offer. You’re so good to Megumi, gentle, kind and patient. Toji can’t help the growing bulge in his pants when he sees you being such a strong mother figure. He has to show you his gratitude. The best way he can do that is by having you in a mating press so he can fuck you nice and deep. 

“You like that?” his voice is a soft hum. 

You feel dizzy. His cock feels so deep. He’s stretching you out more than ever before. You call out his name in a soft whimper.

“Yeah? I’m right here doll don't worry I’m not going anywhere” he groans.

Toji’s obsessed with the way you look taking his cock. Your hole looks so perfect clenching, barely able to fit all of him. You look so full, Toji can’t help but imagine how full you would look with his cum drooling out of you. He has to see it. He’s determined to fuck you full of his cum. His cock plunges in and out of you creating a pattern. Your moans fall past your lips making a tune Toji never wants to forget. 

“That’s it, good girl, say my name” you sound so pretty to him. “Tell me who fucks you this good, say it , tell me no one can make you shake like this, no one can fill this pussy up the way i can”

He’s never felt himself lose control like this before. There’s something about you, something that leaves him desperate for more. He craves you, desires you every waking second. The way your lips part letting pleads and moans drip off your tongue has him losing his mind. He can’t get enough of you. He knows he should be quiet but the way your cunt feels squeezing him so tight he thinks he just might lose his mind. “That feel good baby? Yeah I know” he coos “I’m gonna fuck you so full” his pace is picking up speed. 

His mind is practically blank thinking of how he wants to fill you to the brim with his cum. No that’s not enough he needs to give you every last drop he has. 

“You need my cum don’t you” he’s desperate to hear you say it. He’s practically begging to hear you asking for his cum. Tell him how much you want his babies. He can make you a mommy. Don’t you want him to make you a mommy?

“Our baby is gonna be so beautiful” he whispers. He isn’t sure if you can hear him but he doesn’t mind as long as you’re still losing your mind calling out his name. 

“That’s right” he growls “Say my name while I fuck a baby into you”

His hand push your thighs further down so he can reach deeper. The way he drags his cock past you slick walls has you shaking. Your words come out slurred. 

“It’s too big” you whine as he goes deeper

“No no you can take it.” he bites he lips continuing his long deep strokes. He knows you can take it. Your eyes roll back when he begins grinding his hips into you. He knows he’s hit the spot he’s been searching for. 

“There she is” he chuckles. 

You can barely contain the moans now. Your body is shaking uncontrollably. 

“Please” you gasp “S-slow down, I’m gonna make a mess” you cry.

Toji loves the sound of that. He thrust pick up speed, fucking into you even harder. 

“That’s it, just like that, make a mess on my cock.”

He’s desperately chasing after his own orgasm. He wants to cum with you. His thrust are sloppy. He’s moaning your name pleading for you to cum for him. 

“Cum-fuck Now” he demands. 

You can’t help the juices the splatter against his abs as he fucks his load into you. The two of you are a moaning mess. You ramble incoherent words paired with his name. His eyes are glued on the sticky mess between the two of you. The squelching sounds of his cock fucking his cum back in fill the room. 

“What a pretty sight this is. I hope it’s a girl” he moans “She’ll have your eyes” 

You can barely give him a reply to focused on the way his cock is still plunging in and out. 

“It’s too much” you slur.

“No baby it’s not enough” he groans “I gotta make sure this tummy is full of my cum. One more just one more okay”

Toji has plans on fucking way more than just one more load into you. He has to fuck you full until he’s sure of it you’ll be the one carrying Megumi’s little sister.

[lamiadrowned]

making out with jinx + fem reader (arcane) PLEASEEEEE 🙏🙏🙏

*:･ﾟ✧ a burning desire for you

jinx x fem!reader | nsfw

lol i think about this so often this is just total self indulgence

the way her lips clash with yours in such frenzied symmetry, a gentle ebb and flow in a fight for dominance, always leaves you weak in the knees. your head spins and you’re sure she can feel your heart hammering against your chest, beating like a war drum that just gets faster and heavier with every moment that passes that you’re still positioned on top of her– your throne of lapis blue, emitting chaos in its purest, most amorous form. it’s both a blessing and a curse, the fact that she always expresses her love so passionately, like she’ll never get the chance to express it again.

it’s certainly a curse when you have work in ten minutes and she’s halfway through taking off your shirt.

in jinx’s case, it’s all or nothing, all the time. in your case, you can’t call out of work last minute on the busiest day of the week.

you quickly grab her wrists and bring her hands back down, urging her to let go of your shirt, but she just tugs on the fabric harder. she pulls away with a whine, and you decide to cut her off before she begins to overthink your rejection. “i should’ve left for work five minutes ago.” you mumble, bringing your hand up to stroke one of her rosy cheeks.

“but you didn’t.” she counters as she presses her forehead to yours. “guessing it’s ‘cause you know i can make it quick, huh?”

clearly frustrated by your self control (and her own lack of it), jinx runs one of her hands up your back beneath your shirt, delicately tracing your spine with her nimble fingers. you let out a quiet sigh, feeling yourself slowly give in to her despite your own volition. your grip on her shoulder tightens as her hand slides down your back and slowly dips below the hem of your pants. you arch into her calculated touch, becoming all too aware of the heat growing in your stomach.

you open your mouth to retaliate, but she cuts you off by using her newly found grip on your ass to make you grind forward onto her thigh.

“i know you want it,” she says, like a serpent tempting you to bite the apple despite the compromising circumstance. after all, she can feel the heat between your legs on her thigh as she drags you against it, over and over, pleased by how willing you are to follow her movements. it seems like that self control is withering away bit by bit.

you lean forward to slot your lips between hers again, whimpering when her tongue immediately pushes past and finds yours. her free hand comes up to gently grab your throat– she applies no pressure, simply keeping you in place so that she can have her way with you.

it’s picturesque, she thinks; how helpless and complacent you become to her when she makes you feel this way, and how beautiful you look all the while. it takes all of her strength to not pull away from the kiss just to sit back and watch you take the pleasure she offers.

your hips become caught in an endless cycle with a mind of their own, and you struggle to reciprocate the kiss that has you whimpering and moaning into her mouth like a dog in heat. she only finds it enticing (and slightly humorous) how quickly you give up the struggle for control.

finally, she does pull away, now grabbing the hair on the back of your head and tugging it back so that she can press her lips to your exposed neck. you gasp, back arching as if it were a crescent moon, slightly frustrated that you’d let her discover all of your weaknesses. how could you not know she’d use them for such evil?

“jinx,” you huff, grabbing onto her shoulders as if you were trying to push her away, “you’re gonna make me late for work.”

“that’s kinda the goal here, genius.” she grumbles against your warm skin. at the moment, she can’t exactly fathom the thought of you leaving her when she’s already so worked up, and she knows you are, too.

you roll your eyes, halting the desperate movement of your hips no matter how much it pained you to do so. her hands, panic-stricken, rush to grab your waist and she finally looks up at you. “you’re evil, you know that?” you say, audibly out of breath.

the dim light of the blue lamp in her room reflects off of your skin, making you appear vibrant, as if you’re glowing from the inside like a goddess above her. jinx would look at you forever if she could; but for now, she has a point to prove.

she flashes the most sinister grin you’ve seen from her in a while. “hey, i am not evil. i just know how to get what i want.”

“hmm… think you can get yourself some patience, while you’re at it?” you tease.

at first, she laughs– until she realizes what you mean by that. you are leaving her. she stares up at you, smile completely fading as her jaw drops. “huh?”

you lean forward to press a chaste kiss to her cheek before crambling off of her lap and trying to balance on your shaky legs.

“come on! this is… it’s like taking candy from a baby!” she whines.

“well, it’s a valuable lesson that the baby in question needs to learn at some point.” you shrug, smoothing out your wrinkled shirt with your hands and readjusting your pants to look a bit less like they’ve been tampered with.

jinx stands up and wraps her arms around your waist, burying her nose in the crook of your neck with a long inhale. you feel undeniably guilty, leaving her by herself when she’s already comfortable in one of her clingy moods, but you’d feel worse leaving thieram to run an a bar loaded with people all by himself tonight.

so, you embrace her tightly, kissing the frizzed sapphire blue hair on the side of her head as you scratch her back in attempt to provide some much-needed comfort. “i’m sorry, angel. it’s only five hours, okay?” you reassure her despite her petulant scoff. “i’ll bring you home some of those fries you like.“

she pauses for a moment. “the ones with the cheese on ‘em?”

“yeah, those ones. a whole basket.” you promise.

finally, she sighs halfheartedly and bring herself away from your neck to meet your watchful gaze. her puppy-dog eyes cause your heart to flutter, though you aren’t sure if they’re genuine of if they’re just a last ditch effort to convince you to stay. “fine. but i swear, if that brunette chucklefuck tries to make you stay any longer than five hours tonight, i’ll be wearing his teeth as a pearl necklace by tomorrow morning. got it?”

you huff out a laugh at her odd threat, yet it comes as no surprise. she often engages in the most one-sidedly explosive quarrels with thieram, convinced that if you stay back a bit longer to help him clean up or close the last drop for the night, it’s part of his big scheme to steal as much time with you as possible– to steal you away from her.

you make a mental note to do your portion of the closing work before you both close the bar for the night. “crystal clear. as for you,” you lift your hand to cup her cheek, reveling at the way she melts into your touch, “i better see you waiting here for me when i come back, alright?”

jinx’s eyes flutter closed as your thumb rubs the soft skin beneath her eye. you always know just how to soothe her, how to make her forget all of the irritation boiling inside of her. she just nods her head, arms tightening around your waist.

you pull her in for one last kiss, and the only thing it’s good for is reigniting that dwindling spark inside of her. her tongue quickly licks into your mouth and you sigh through your nose– a mix of exasperation pure indulgence. she fists the back of your shirt in her hands, still aggravated at the idea of letting you go, and lightly bites down onto your bottom lip.

you scoff and practically rip yourself away from jinx. “hey, you started it!” she accusatively points a finger at you.

“yeah, that one’s on me, huh?” you say, reaching up to gently pinch her cheek, stifling a laugh at how infuriated she looks. it’s a common anger that runs deep in her veins, though it’s more so directed toward the world than it is toward you; solely due to the fact that she can’t have you alone, all to herself whenever she pleases, because you’re a person with responsibilities just like her and everybody else.

but, she’d made a vow to herself at the start of this relationship that she wasn’t going to be as controlling over you as she knew she could be. she wasn’t going to drive you away all for the sake of keeping you in her possession at all times. so, rather than arguing any further, jinx nods in such hesitant acceptance of your departure. “five hours.” she reminds you, crossing her arms as she spins around to head over to her workbench. at least she has something to keep herself busy while she waits.

after all, you haven’t even left yet and she’s already counting down the minutes until you’re home; until she can pick up where you left off.

[steddieas-shegoes]

Steve grows up playing piano, absolutely hates it, but is so good at it. His parents aren’t around enough by the time he’s a teen to force him to his practices, so he slowly stops going.

His music teacher happens to be Robin’s mom, who studied at Juilliard, and traveled for nearly a decade with various orchestras and bands before settling down with her husband in Hawkins.

She can see what’s going on with Steve from day one, but knows better than to interfere.

Until he quits.

She can’t stand by and let someone so musically gifted give it up.

She shows up at his house with a violin, her own violin that she hadn’t used in years.

He’s hesitant at first, but decides to give it a try as long as she doesn’t tell his parents. The last thing he wants is for them to find out he picked up a new instrument.

She can’t give him official lessons, so she shows up to his house twice a week and hopes that he practices in his own time.

He’s a natural.

He takes to it like a duck to water.

She encourages him to perform in a local talent show, all kids under 18, most of them not half as talented as he is.

He only agrees when she says she’ll be front row.

And sure enough, for once in his life, someone shows up when they say they will. She’s sitting front row with her husband on one side and her daughter on the other. She smiles as he takes the stage, nervous about people who know him seeing him and reporting back to his parents.

He performs with heart, something he lacked with the piano. He performs with talent, something he may have with any instrument he picks up.

But most importantly, he plays with a smile. He’s having fun.

He sticks around to watch some of the other people performing: Tammy Thompson singing a very out of tune rendition of America The Beautiful, some kid from one of his classes playing piano miserably, and some band performing very loud, very angry music.

Steve wins, and for once, it feels better than when he wins at a swim meet or basketball game.

He spends the next three years secretly practicing, only performing in shows out of town, never saying anything to his parents.

He doesn’t want them to ruin this for him.

He applies to Juilliard, not thinking he has a chance in hell, not with his academic grades.

Luckily, they see that he’s “exceptional with the strings” and “plays with emotion that can’t be trained.”

He gets in.

He goes.

He thinks he may actually be able to do this, use a gift he has to make his life better.

His parents even find it acceptable, mostly because he got into the best school he could have. They still don’t bother showing up for his shows, but Mrs. Buckley always finds a way.

In his sophomore year, Robin gets in, and they both move into a small apartment off campus together. He promised to look out for her.

She tells him that music wasn’t really her passion, she was just good with a trumpet. She really wanted to be an engineer.

In his junior year, Robin transfers to Columbia, starts doing what she really wanted to do from the start. He’s proud of her, but misses having someone on campus during the day to have lunch with.

Until he stumbles, literally, into someone vaguely familiar.

“Sorry, man. Running late.”

Steve pats the man on the shoulder and turns to get to his class when the man stops him.

“Harrington? You’re a student here?”

He turns back and finally recognizes the man in front of him.

“Munson? When did you get here?”

“I got in this year. Kinda fucked up my first audition last year and they were kind enough to give me another shot.” Eddie smiled. “What on earth are you here for?”

“Violin. You?”

“Guitar and songwriting.”

“That’s great, man. I’m just really running late. Catch up soon?”

Soon was two weeks later, when Steve ran into Eddie again while leaving class.

“We should probably stop running into each other like this,” Eddie smirked. “The universe is trying to tell us something.”

“What’s it trying to tell us?”

“Not sure. Maybe we should go grab dinner and find out.”

“Now?”

“Why not? Got better plans?”

Steve thought about how Robin was barely at the apartment due to studying for midterms. He thought about how his only other friend from here was busy rehearsing for their senior showcase.

“Nah. Let me bring this home first,” he held up his violin case. “Actually.”

Steve was on a budget. His parents gave him money, sure, but they thought he was living on campus so the money they sent covered rent and groceries and nothing else.

“I could make dinner. If you want?”

“Steve Harrington cooks? And plays violin?” Eddie fake swooned. “Be still my beating heart. How will I not be seduced?”

Steve rolled his eyes. He remembered Eddie’s dramatics from school and knew better than to feed into them.

“I can make some spaghetti. Nothing fancy.”

“Spaghetti sounds great,” Eddie’s fake swoon turned to a soft smile. “You want some help?”

Steve didn’t need help, usually didn’t even want any.

But something about the way his stomach dipped when Eddie stepped closer, and the way he thought about having Eddie in his apartment, made him agree.

“Sure.”

They walked to Steve’s apartment in a comfortable silence, though Eddie kept tapping the back of his fingers against Steve’s hand.

Eddie fit next to Steve. They cooked together, they ate together, they even managed to clean up together. It was easy to find something to talk about. He’d never clicked with anyone like this, not even Robin.

By the time Robin came home, Steve and Eddie were both passed out on the couch, fingers laced together as if they hadn’t been brave enough to do anything more before they fell asleep.

By morning, Steve’s head was on Eddie’s shoulder, Eddie’s arm wrapped around him loosely.

Waking up to a soft kiss on his lips was something Steve couldn’t have imagined when he first ran into Eddie, but he was pretty glad it was how he started his day.

And almost every day after that, whether he woke up to a kiss, or met up with Eddie on campus for a kiss, he started his day with love on his lips.

[wxwrites]

Arcane SFW & NSFW Headcanons! (f!reader, AFAB!reader)

Including: Vi, Caitlyn, Maddie, Mel, Jinx. (Disclaimer: I will only write SFW for Jinx, as her age is not fully confirmed.) This is so much longer than I meant for it to be. Enjoy!

WC: ~3k

JINX | SFW

 Jinx, who still doesn’t really know how to navigate relationships… at all. She’s shy and hesitant at first, entirely unused to the genuine connection and love. All she’s ever known is what feels like transactional affection, despite what Silco may have actually felt towards her. 

 She isn’t too comfortable with physical affection at first, a little wary that you’re out to hurt her. But, she’ll show her appreciation for you through handing you gadgets or trinkets she makes/finds. 

 As she grows more comfortable with you, she’ll finally start to open up and lean on you (literally and figuratively.) She’ll start to ramble about anything and everything on her mind, almost unaware that she’s actually doing it. 

 She’ll paint your nails to match hers, even including the same little face she put on her prosthetic. 

 She LOVES to braid your hair, and will take every opportunity to do so. Despite her hands being a little calloused from her tinkering, they’re still surprisingly soft and gentle as she rakes them through your hair.

 She is a genuine sweetheart! While she might come off really intense or a little wacky sometimes, her love for you bleeds through entirely. It’s obvious to almost everyone how much she loves you.

 She loves watching you play with Isha or talk to Sevika, tearing up as she watches her own happy little family form after so much tragedy.

 She hugs tightly, and I mean TIGHTLY. She’ll squeeze you to the point of almost feeling like your ribs are gonna crack.

VI | SFW 

 Vi, who is such a sweetheart. She wears her heart on her sleeve every second of every day. Prison may have hardened her when it comes to confrontation or battle, but she is like a puppy with you. 

 If she continues working for Caitlyn, she spends her money well. She gets both of you a nice apartment and takes you out on sweet little dates at least once a week.

 If she relies more on the bets and money from her pit-fighting, she’ll still do the same. While the apartment isn’t nearly as lavish, and the dates aren’t nearly as nice, she does everything in her power to make her as enjoyable as possible. 

 She prefers when you keep your hand wrapped around her bicep, rather than actually holding hands. 

 She lets you paint her nails and do her makeup as you please, enjoying the lovely grin the spreads across your face as you do it. 

 Absurdly gentle with you, always keeping a soft hand on your waist. Despite how rough she is with other people, her hands would never do the same to you. (Unless you ask for it ;)) 

 When you patch her up after a particularly rough fight, she’ll mutter a quiet “Thank y’baby.” And press herself closer to you, craving your space and comfort. 

 She is a little difficult to get to communicate properly, almost never having been listened to before. With enough patience and kind words, she’ll eventually crack and begin to trust you as she becomes more vulnerable.

 She lovesss to bury her face into the crook of your neck as she tightly wraps her bandaged arms around your waist, pressing a few gentle kisses to your shoulder and neck.

 She’ll tear up a little bit as you press gentle kisses to her tattoos, and especially the scars she adorns from her time in prison. 

 Not to mention that she is definitely obsessed with you.

NSFW

This might be a hot take, but I definitely see Vi as more submissive than dominant. Whether she’s fighting crime or other people, she definitely spends most of her day keeping everyone in check.

 So when she’s writhing against the bed and moaning for you to just touch her, you find it extremely difficult to not give her exactly that. She loves when you’re able to take her out of her head entirely, finally giving her the space to relax and to just not think for a bit.

 While she might be submissive, she still definitely likes to top. She likes knowing that she’s making you feel good and thrives off of the praise. So when you mutter a quiet “That’s my good girl.” She has to temporarily stop and get her shit together so she doesn’t cum on the spot. 

 She goes feral whenever you pull her hair or scratch down her back and arms, letting out a literal whimper. 

 As you straddle her lap and begin to ride her into oblivion, she’ll paw desperately at your hips and thighs. She’ll eventually reach up to grope your tits and mumble incoherent compliments, talking about how pretty you are and how good you feel. She especially likes it when you tighten your hand around her throat, hearing her own choked whimpers leave her mouth. 

 On the uncommon occasion she decides that she does want to be dominant, she’s still not very rough. Unless you explicitly ask for a meaner hand or words, she would never do it on her own. 

 Her favorite position is definitely doggy, she likes watching your ass bounce back against her hips as she smacks it and grips your hips tightly. She’ll keep one hand in between your shoulder blades, and the other next to your head as she drills into you. 

 She’ll pepper sweet kisses along your cheeks and lick the tears off, almost ecstatic at the fact that she has fucked you so good you started crying. 

 She loves sloppy kisses and sloppy head, moaning against your pussy as she nearly devours you whole, digging her hands into your thighs. She whines as you tangle your fingers into her hair and tug, feeling her own arousal begin to leak in between her thighs. 

 She is so good with aftercare, too. If she had been a little rough on you, she’ll kiss all of the bruises and scratches that she left and mutter quiet praises. She’ll wipe you down with a damp towel, giving you a quiet “‘M sorry, baby.” As she soothes the towel over your sensitive clit.

CAITLYN | SFW

Caitlyn, who takes after Cassandra in the way that she is a little stern with you. She doesn’t like it when you venture off without her, or at the very least someone else.

 She’s a little socially awkward, so you tend to take the lead at the galas or other social events she’s expected to attend. She likes when you keep an arm around her waist, or holding your hand. While most people are there to see her, you often lead the conversations anyway. 

 She loves when you show up to her office, your presence immediately forcing her posture and face to soften. Being in her position puts a lot of paperwork in front of her, and stress on her. 

 Whether you dance, play a sport, or perform in any other way, she will show up every single time. She’s running behind on a mission? She’ll finish it in record time so she’s able to make it for at least half of your show. 

 She’ll let you sit on the edge of her desk as she works, or will pull up another chair so you can sit next to her and read your own book or tinker with a little project. 

 She loves when you have to raise up on your toes to kiss her, chuckling as she pulls away each time you get close enough to brush your lips together. She’ll wrap her arms around your waist and pick you up off of your feet as she presses her lips to yours. 

 Once you guys are able to wind down in your shared apartment, she pulls you into her lap and holds you tightly. She’ll press gentle kisses onto your cheek and shoulders, telling you how grateful she is for you and how much she loves you.

 She will always appreciate when you make tea or cook for her, coming up behind you and wrapping her arms around you from behind. 

 She’ll take you out on little dates when she has the time, but otherwise prefers to take slow walks with you through her garden.

While she may be a little stern, she absolutely adores you, and trusts you with her life. 

NSFW

 Don’t get me wrong, she is so, so sweet. She’s doting and attentive, and will do almost anything you need from her. But you will work for it, no questions asked. 

 She’ll put you on your knees and make you beg for whatever you want. She’ll bind your hands behind your back with a new silken rope she bought and coo down at you, stroking her thumb over your bottom lip. She’ll coax your mouth open and feed you two of her fingers, grinning as you accept them sweetly.

 It’s quite obvious she can get prettyyyy freaky. Like we saw how she reacted when Vi spat on her cheek. I’d say that extends towards you, as well. She likes forcing you to keep your mouth open, and tongue flat against your bottom lip as she spits onto it, giving you a “Swallow it sweetheart, be a good girl.”

 I wouldn’t say that she’s a stone top, but she definitely prefers to give. I definitely think it comes from wanting to be in control and dominant. She differs from Vi in the sense that she doesn’t want to be out of control, ever. 

 Her long legs and overall strength gives her such a huge advantage over you. She loves to fold you over and press your knees to your chest as she fucks into you roughly. She does love to keep you on top, guiding your hips as you bounce on her strap, licking and sucking into the sensitive skin of your collarbones and boobs. 

 I don’t think she’d be someone who is super into degradation, but she might mutter something along the lines of “You’re such a pretty whore for me.” As she tangles her fingers into your hair and pulls your head back, forcing you to meet your own reflection in the mirror. 

 Any time you guys fuck, she will always remind you of how good you are. She nips at your ear and purrs, “That’s it pretty girl, you take me so well.” She mumbles, sucking a mark onto the side of your neck. 

 She takes aftercare very seriously, knowing that sometimes her treatment can take a toll on you. She’ll untie you slowly and work out the kinks of your tense joints, pressing kisses along the red marks the ropes left. She wipes the sweaty baby hairs from your forehead and presses a gentle kiss to it, helping you sit up. She’ll hold you for a bit and reassure you, murmuring quiet praises. Once you’re settled down, she’ll run a warm bath for both of you.

MADDIE | SFW

 Maddie, who is such a sweet, sweet girl. Her enthusiasm for everything around her is extremely contagious. She does her absolute best to make sure there is a smile on your face every day.

 She finds a way to balance her job as an enforcer and her relationship with you. While it’s a bit of a struggle sometimes because of how demanding Caitlyn can be, she puts in 100% of her effort to make it work.

 She prefers to stay inside rather than going out, pulling you next to her on the couch as you cuddle up and turn on a few movies or a show to binge. She likes when you put your legs over your lap and she can idly trace her fingers along your legs.

 She likes cooking and baking a lot, always making an excessive amount of food that you guys really can’t consume by yourselves.

 She’ll give you pancakes with a smiley face made out of chocolate chips and strawberries, pressing a kiss to your head as you dig into the breakfast. 

  She writes you notes every morning before she leaves for work and sticks them on the fridge, always containing some kind of compliment and an “I love you.” 

 She loves to write poetry as well, it’s her favorite way to express her love and gratitude for you. Which means that words of affirmation is definitely her love language, but physical touch is a close second.

 She loves going on bike rides around the city, especially when you get to the large botanical gardens and parks. She’ll pull over and buy whatever drink you’d like and a pastry, both of you settling on a bench in the park.

 She likes to point out all of the cute animals that prance around the area and gets extremely excited when they come over to you guys.

NSFW

 She is utterly enthusiastic every time you guys get intimate. I wouldn’t say that she’s inexperienced, but I definitely think she does still get a little nervous sometimes. She’s just absolutely infatuated with you and your pretty face makes her blush.

 She lovesss to makeout. Like, she would rather do that over having actual sex. She’ll straddle your lap and hold your jaw or thread her fingers through your hair. 

 When you guys do fuck, it’s a bit more vanilla compared to the others. She doesn’t strike me as an overly kinky person, but I feel like she does still have a few interests.

 She for SURE likes to give head, it’s probably her favorite pastime tbh. She will beg for you to ride her face regularly, moaning into you as she wraps her hands around your hips.

 Give her a little bit of praise and she’ll do anything you ask of her, especially if you call her pretty. 

She loves, loves, loves to ride your thigh. Something about it is so exhilarating, especially because she likes seeing the aftermath of it. She’ll happily lap her cum off of your leg, moaning as you guide her head with your hand. 

 She seems like the type to basically worship you, she would happily get on her knees as you grind yourself against her mouth with absolutely no complaints. 

 For sure adores seeing you in pretty lingerie, running her fingers over the lacy fabric as she kisses along the hem of your bra and underwear. 

 She’s definitely a bottom, like for SURE. She really likes missionary, especially when you pull her legs over your shoulders. The main reason she likes it is because 1. She likes to be underneath you, and 2. Because she still loves to look at you and kiss you. 

 While she doesn’t really like to top, she can still get a little bit of an edge to her attitude, teasing you as she nips at your neck and jaw. She’ll straddle your hips and press your back into the bed, slowly sliding her nails underneath your shirt and chuckle at the whines you let out. 

 Aftercare with her is really sweet as well. She likes to curl up in your arms and tuck her head under your chin as you pet her hair and press soft kisses all over her face. She likes to eat after as well, it helps her feel less shaky, so make sure you always have snacks nearby. 

MEL | SFW

 Mel, who loves so hard and sometimes really can’t control it. Her love is so intense it can truly be a little overwhelming sometimes. 

 She treats you with the utmost care and always makes sure that your needs are met. While being on the council does unfortunately consume most of her time, she does everything she can to make sure she is still as present as possible. 

 When she’s gone, she makes sure that there’s always a maid present with you, making sure that all of your needs are met when she can’t be there.

 When she is, she always likes to have a hand on you, whether it’s on your thigh, waist, whatever. She loves to touch you, and it often soothes her racing mind.

 Whenever you get sick or stressed, she pulls your head into your lap and will stroke her slender fingers through your hair. She’ll hum some kind of melody quietly and gently sway, lolling you to sleep. 

 She doesn’t like it when you get involved with politics or the council in general, simply wanting to protect you from the ongoing and unresolved issues. 

 She buys you new dresses regularly, always making you give her a little fashion show as you try them on.

 Her kindness is unwavering, but there is a layer of intensity and harshness beneath all of that. One that is very rarely ever shown, and if it is, it’s towards her mother. 

 She does everything she can to keep you far away from her ties to Noxus, especially when Ambessa comes to visit. She’ll use every excuse in the books to keep you separated, knowing that you and Ambessa would likely not get along. 

 She loves to take long baths together, especially when they’re decorated with candles, bath bombs, etc. She’ll turn on the record player as you guys bask in the warm water together, soaking up the intimacy that is sometimes difficult to be had. 

NSFW

 She is the biggest switch that has ever been written in a TV show, like really. Her role is kind of inconsistent, and changes quite often. I don’t think she has a preference, but sometimes I think there are some things that can definitely influence it. Rough day at work and she’s irritated? You’re gonna get bent over her desk. If she feels utterly defeated, she’d rather you take the lead so she can ignore her problems for a bit. 

 Speaking of being bent over her desk, it’s one of her favorite things to do. She’ll gently push you forward, keeping a hand between your shoulder blades as she grinds against your ass. But she really only ever does this at her office at home, she tries very hard to keep your relationship away from work.

 She loves when you take off her shoes and tights, kissing your way up her legs as you hike her dress up to her hips. She loves to hold onto your head as you lick and suck your way up her thighs, pushing her backwards onto the bed. 

 She highly enjoys straddling your face, moaning loudly as she grabs onto the headboard. She’ll grind her pussy against your mouth and whimper as you reach up to grope her chest.

 When she’s topping, she likes having you in missionary so she can watch your eyes roll back and whimper. If she’s bottoming, she prefers to ride you because it makes it easier for her to rub against the most sensitive spots inside of her. 

 She likes to pull your hair, and have hers pulled in return, enjoying the control it gives both of you.

 She loves to decorate herself in pretty lingerie and gold, tying your hands behind your back as she sways her hips around you before settling your lap. She grinds herself on your lap, grinning sadistically as you whine due to the fact that you can’t touch her.

 She’s less intense with aftercare, mainly because she’s too tired herself to do much. Once you’re both wiped down, she’ll wrap herself around you and press a kiss to your head.

[chestersturniolo]

“don’t gotta be so dramatic all the fuckin’ time”

Matt Sturniolo x fem!reader x Chris Sturniolo

based on this request

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DISCLAIMER; chratt poly relationship dynamic!! if you aren’t comfortable w this, do not read

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It had started as a small tiff, but somehow, it escalated out of control in minutes. The three of you were in the kitchen, and Chris had made a comment-something offhanded about how you were “always overthinking everything”

“Overthinking?-” you snapped, setting down the mug you’d been holding “-you’re really calling me out for caring about stuff, Chris? Unbelievable”

Chris crossed his arms, his expression growing defensive. “That’s not what I’m saying, I’m saying sometimes you blow things way out of proportion. I can’t bring anything up without you acting like it’s some huge deal!”

Your pulse quickened, your anger growing quickly, “You know what, maybe I wouldn’t if you actually bothered to listen for once instead of making me feel like I’m overreacting every time I say something!”

Matt, who had been silent in the corner, finally chimed in, “I think Chris is just trying to say you’re taking it a bit far” he shrugged, his words only added fuel to the fire.

You turned to him, a mix of anger and hurt flooding your face. “Oh, of course you’re siding with him-“ you scoffed “-god forbid you actually back me up on something for once!”

Matt shook his head with a roll of his eyes, frustration in his voice now too. “Look, it’s not about sides, I just don’t think it’s worth blowing up over”

“Exactly-“ Chris agrees “-don’t gotta be so dramatic all the fuckin’ time” he snaps, his voice raising.

You get taken aback slightly at his tone. sure, you’ve all had disagreements before, but it rarely escalated to any form of yelling. There’s dead silence in the room as your emotions start to become overwhelming. The way they teamed up and dismissed your feelings only pushed you to the edge, so without a word, you turned and stormed out of the house, the door slamming shut behind you.

-

You spent the entire day wandering around town, trying to clear your mind. You walked down familiar streets, through the park, even sat by the lake for a while, letting the fresh air and the quiet calm you down. Your phone buzzed relentlessly in your pocket, but eventually, you turned it off.

Finally, as the sun began to set, you decided to head home. You felt drained, both emotionally and physically, but you knew it was time to face them.

When you opened the front door, you were immediately met with the sound of voices from upstairs. As you climbed the stairs quietly, you could hear them—Chris and Matt, arguing with each other.

“You shouldn’t have snapped at her like that!” Matt was practically shouting, his voice thick with anger.

“Don’t put all the blame on me-“ Chris shot back “-you didn’t exactly help calm her down, did you?”

There was a pause, then you heard Chris sigh deeply. “Let’s go back out and look again”

“We’ve been driving around for hours, Chris! What makes you think she’ll still be out there now?-” Matt snapped, his frustration clear. “-I’m calling her again”

You took a deep breath, feeling a mix of guilt and exhaustion as you stepped around the corner. The living room came into view, and you saw Chris sitting on the couch, elbows on his knees with his head in his hands,,while Matt was pacing back and forth, his phone pressed to his ear.

“Hi” you said quietly, breaking the tense silence

Both of their heads snapped toward you, a mix of anger and relief on their faces.

Chris stood up quickly. “Hi?” he repeats in disbelief, “Where the hell have you been?! We’ve been worried sick!” His voice strained with both worry and frustration.

“Out” you said simply, still feeling a bit defiant despite the guilt settling in your chest.

“Out?” he echoed, his jaw clenching as he turned to Matt. “Can you believe this shit? Just…‘out’ - like we haven’t been losing our minds looking for her all day”

Matt rolled his eyes but then turned his attention back to you, his tone softer than Chris’s. He crossed the room to stand infront of you. “I tried calling you, like, a thousand times” he said, his voice more tired than angry.

You looked down, feeling a pang of remorse. “I turned my phone off”

Matt let out a deep sigh, a flash of frustration crossing his face as he throws both hands up in the air “You can’t just—” He cut himself off abruptly, noticing the tears that were starting to well up in your eyes as you dropped your gaze to the floor

Immediately, his face softened, his irritation melting away. “Oh baby” he murmured, stepping forward and wrapping his arms around you, pulling you close, shooting a look to his brother

“I’m sorry-“ you choked out, a few tears slipping down your cheeks. “I just…I was so mad, I needed to clear my head, and I just lost track of time,and I hate fighting with you guys and-and-i-“ you cut your own rambling off with small sobs

Matt held you tighter, stroking your hair gently. “Sh-sh-shhh it’s okay” he soothed, his voice a whisper

Chris, who had been watching, came over with a much softer expression, holding out his arms. “Come here, ma” he said, his voice now gentle.

You sniffled, letting go of Matt to move into Chris’s arms. He wrapped you in a tight embrace, laying a kiss to the top of your head before resting his chin there. “it’s okay, you’re here now that’s all that matters,hmm?-“ he murmured, rubbing your back in slow circles. “-I’m sorry for earlier, I shouldn’t have snapped at you like that, I was way outta’ line”

Matt steps closer, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, “Me too baby, i’m sorry-” he says quietly, his voice full with regret “-but please don’t leave like that again okay? if you don’t wanna talk things out and need some space, we’ll leave…we need to know you’re safe sweetheart”

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a/n; thankyou for the request anon🫀!! lylyly

- 𝑺𝒂𝒈𝒆 ♡

MASTERLIST LINKED HERE

taglist;

@sturnobsessedwh0re @nayveetbhh

@phone4pills @sturniooolos

@monroesturnns @mattsbitchh @pvssychicken @tsturniolo4 @brianna-grace12

@blahbel668

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@starstrucktyrantinfluencer @fratbrochrisgf @emely9274

@chriseatingmeoutin4k @slvttie-zx

@bbybloop @sturnn372 @chrissturnsss @izzylovesmatt

@sturniolossss @sturniolofannnforevver @zariyam @r0s3luvr

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@amayaaaho @thebigbadwolfahoooo @riasturns @kamrynnsturns @sophand4n4 @strnlslut

[tittiesnhrtz]

i was having a really bad day and only ellie williams fluff could save me bahaja. this was written under fifteen mins so it’s not proofread. also this is pure fluff.

the lamp in the living room casts a glow on the silhouette of your wife sprawled on the couch, with its dim yellow light highlighting her pretty features and the book nestled on her lap. she pretends to be enamoured by the still words on the paper, though what she’s really enamoured by is the sight of you examining the basket of tangerines. your brows are furrowed in concentration as you stare at the circular fruits, probably trying to tell which one is the most succulent, you only want your wife to have the best one after all. she watches as you finally pick one out of the dainty basket, thinking about how she managed to get so lucky, her perfect wife who’s always there for her, anchoring her to the peacefulness of life. almost every thought that weaves itself into her mind is about you— while she’s at work, while she’s at home, even when she’s sleeping, her dreams are a figment of her moments with you. her calloused palms having learnt the texture of your skin, always seem to crave your warmth, unable to stay away from the expanse of your flesh. your stomach, your legs, your arms, your ass, she’ll take whatever you give her happily.

she makes space for you as you lay down beside her, your fingers peeling the outermost layer of the fruit, just like you’d peeled all the tough layers she put up, getting to the core of her heart, learning her soul inside out. you take a piece and bring it to her peach hued lips. she gladly welcomes it, the juices dripping down her chin. “so messy.” you chuckle and wipe the pulp away with your thumb. “‘s not my fault you weren’t holding it properly.” she places a lingering kiss to your nose bridge, letting the sticky liquid make a home on your nose. “ellie!” you exclaim, giggling and nudging her shoulder. she takes a few pieces of the tangerine from your hand and pulps their juices out onto your neck, only to lick them clean, the warm muscle of her tongue flicking across the pulse of your neck. “you’re so gross.” you put the rest of the fruit away from her grasp, letting them rest on the round oak table that serves as a coffee table in the depths of your house. “mhm, you love me anyway.” she smiles against your neck, slender fingers crawling under your cotton dress, tugging and sliding them off your body. your bra and underwear follow suit, joining the fabric on the ground. her hands trace every contour, every blemish and every flawless crest, worshipping your skin like its her salvation. “my pretty girl.” she murmurs, manoeuvring your body to fit inside the oversized t-shirt she’s wearing, her skin erupting at the feel of yours. her arms encircle your waist, spooning you, seeking closeness. her hand slides down, pressing against your pelvis, fingers playing tenderly with the hair that adorns your pussy, in a loving manner. “i love you.” a kiss to your earlobe. “so.” a kiss to your forehead. “so.” a kiss to your collarbone. “much.” a final and gentle kiss to your cheek. you smile at your lovesick wife, equally as hopeless as her. “i love you too. so, so much.” you repeat her euphoric words, longing to hear the three most unoriginal words again and again. she reads your mind, knowing you and your heart’s way better than yourself, and repeats the words like a lullaby, creating a symphony in the humdrum of the living room. all that matters to her is your soft breathing, the book being long forgotten, bridged somewhere between your bodies. as she whispers the words that have became your private altar, her throat grows dry until slumber takes over her body, her eyes fluttering shut as her cheek presses against yours, relishing in the solace of your love.

[sailorholly]

Appetizer

Summary: A night out with the team takes a delicious turn.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x F. Reader

Warnings: Smut. 18+ only. Minors DNI.

See my Masterlist Here

“Give me your panties.” Your boyfriend Spencer, commanded. He was different since he got out of prison. There was something dark about him now. You weren’t complaining. Sure, you missed the old Spencer, but now he was rougher with you.

The sex was good before, but now he didn’t treat you like a porcelain doll, afraid you would break even from the lightest touch. He was still sweet to you, but you would have to say the sex is better.

You look at him with wide eyes, reaching your hand under your dress to remove them. You place one hand on his forearm to steady yourself, pulling your feet out one at a time. You fold them, placing them in his outstretched hand. He puts them in his pocket, grabbing your hand before you leave to meet the rest of the team.

When you arrive, you take a seat next to Penelope. She beams as you settle in, telling you how beautiful you look. You order your drinks when the server stops by. Kristy, Matt’s wife is talking about their kids, but you stop listening when Spencer’s large hand caresses your thigh.

Your eyes meet his, he lifts an eyebrow at you. You turn back to the conversation, Spencer leans in, his hot breath tickling your ear, sending goosebumps down your arms. “I don’t want to hear a sound fall from those pretty lips. Do you understand?” You nod your head, breath caught in your throat.

“Alright love birds, get a room!” Penelope teases you. You smile and laugh, pretending you weren’t affected by Spencer’s words. You are suddenly thankful you chose a black dress, so nobody else would see your arousal flooding the fabric.

Spencer’s hand inches higher, so close to where you need him. You continue talking with the girls while Spencer talks about the case the team just solved with Luke and Rossi. You squirm, the anticipation making it hard to sit still. Spencer removes his hand, taking a sip from his drink.

You stifle a whine, pretending you have to cough. Spencer’s hand returns, higher than before. You wonder if he can feel your desire for him dripping down your thigh. Your silent question is answered when he rubs it into your soft skin. The heat from his hand makes you throb. If he would only move his hand a little to the left and put you out of your misery.

The server starts taking everyone’s orders starting with Penelope. She hands her menu to the smiling man, who acknowledges you. “For you, miss?” Spencer plunges two fingers inside you, and you can’t remember what you were going to order. You were lucky you didn’t cry out at the sudden intrusion.

The server smiles, but you can tell he is growing impatient. “I, umm.” You begin, but Spencer cuts you off. “She’ll have the steak medium rare.” He answers for you. You smile at him in appreciation as his slender fingers curl, hitting your g-spot.

You quickly grab your glass and bring it to your lips, trying to stay silent. His thumb slowly swirls your clit, and your vision goes blurry. You grab his arm, needing something to steady yourself. The server comes by with the appetizers for the table, giving you a sideways glance. For a brief second, you think he knows.

Any worries about that fade as quickly as they came while Spencer’s long fingers slide in and out of you. You’re silently praying that Penelope can’t hear the obscene squelching every time his fingers glide into you. She’s none the wiser, gushing to Tara about her latest date.

Spencer continues working you with slow strokes of his fingers, his thumb dragging across your clit in small movements. Your fingers dig into his leg under the table. You watch as he acts unaffected, eating the greasy appetizer with his free hand. You shouldn’t be this turned on in public, in front of your coworkers sitting right beside you.

The server returns with everyone’s meals as Spencer picks up his pace. He adds another finger, strumming your clit with his thumb. It’s an effort not to rock your hips into his hand when you are so close. His thumb works faster as he curls his long fingers once more, tipping you over the edge.

Your steak is placed in front of you, as your orgasm rips through you. You grip the table, needing to hold on. You’ve never came this hard in your life. “Are you alright, miss? Your face is flushed. Would you like some more water?”

“Y-yes please.” You manage to mumble as your pleasure fades. Everyone looks at you, Emily asks if you want her to go to the bathroom with you because you do look quite flushed. You refuse, blaming it on the restaurant being too hot.

After your refill of water, everyone starts to dig in. Spencer removes his hand from between your thighs, bringing his sticky fingers to his mouth. His tongue swirls around the tip of one of his fingers. “Mmm” he moans as your taste reaches his tongue. “If the main course is as delicious as the appetizer, I’ve found my new favorite restaurant.” He winks at you, wiping his hand on his napkin.

Tags

@cindylynn @potter-puff007 @multifandom-worlds @mochie85 @wheredafandomat @cynbx @lover-of-books-and-tea @lamentis-10 @zzumkii @megharat-barnes-reid @anonymously-ominous @kats72 @vivian-555 @itzdarling @emarich7 @nomajdetective @aelinismyqueen @wildernessflora @academiareid @loz-3

[dirtyvulture]

No Glory

Beefy!MMA Fighter!Natasha Romanoff* x Fem!Stripper!Reader

18+ only, read at your own risk

Word count: 3570

Summary: Your club gets a visit from rising boxer Natasha “Black Widow” Romanoff.

*Nat has a 🍆 and is a virgin

AN: Been working on this one for a while... 😉

Sometimes Natasha wonders why she chose this path in life. The chain-link fence of the octagon cage rattles from the spectators’ excitement, reminding her that she’s only here for their entertainment. The eyeballs and cameras drink in the violence and bloodshed like an elixir, the crowd cheering for more. They didn’t pay all that money for a ten-second fight that ends with a single punch to the temple and a body lying still on the mat. They want to see the full three rounds, pushed to the last second, where the fighters can hardly stand straight and blood soaks through the mats.

She circles the pen warily, shifting her weight back to her left leg because her right thigh has swollen to a near-bursting point after taking a rapid succession of roundhouse kicks that probably could’ve fell a house support beam. Blood drips into her left eye and she hopes her eyebrow is at least still attached to her face. She lifts her hands to protect what’s left, her forearms and biceps aching, but she knows if she doesn’t end things soon, she’ll be the one laid out while the audience celebrates.

Her opponent, a pixie-cut blonde with a few inches over her, bounces on the mats with a seemingly endless supply of energy. The only visible damage Natasha’s left on her is a fattened bottom lip. Natasha is annoyed, wishing she had done a better job wearing her opponent out so the end wouldn’t be so difficult. 

She shuffles forward a few steps as much as her injured leg will allow, causing her opponent to bounce back in response. She fruitlessly throws a few punches, which her opponent blocks effortlessly. Her opponent might have the capacity to play around with her the rest of the evening, but Natasha doesn’t have the time. 

She moves backwards now, practically inviting her opponent in for a free hit. When Natasha sees the light of realization in her opponent’s eye, she knows it’s over. She momentarily shifts her weight to her right leg, a spike of adrenaline masking the pain long enough for her to spin on her heel, lifting her left leg as high as she can manage. Her left heel connects with her opponent’s jaw with a satisfying crack.

“KNOCKOUT!” the announcer roars. “Danvers is down!”

Natasha wobbles on both legs as the referee jumps in between her and Danvers, lying frozen stiff on the mats with one arm still raised. She is momentarily jealous of Danvers’s unconsciousness, wishing she could lay down too, but when she sees the look of shock in Danvers’s eyes as she comes to, she isn’t jealous anymore.

“Your winner…Natasha ‘Black Widow’ Romanoff!”

She turns to face the audience, raising a fist and hearing their screams and cheers grow louder. But the win feels empty to her. There was not much at stake at an amateur fight and her reward would be even less after her manager/coach/adoptive father took his cut. Training would be even worse with her new injuries and she already had another fight scheduled in less than a week. As she squints through the bright lights shining down on the octagon, she looks out at the audience, knowing she won’t find you there but wishing she would.

***********************************************************************

“Hey, turn that up,” you say, catching a glimpse of the TV in the mirror.

“Why?” Wanda asks, smearing red lipstick around her mouth. “You’re not into MMA.”

“No, but that one client of hers is,” Jane chimes in and you feel her cheeks heat up. 

“Which one?”

“You know, that buff redhead.”

“Ohhhh.”

You tune them out to focus on the fight. You didn’t really consider Natasha Romanoff a client of yours because she never seemed to want to get actually near you–you could always feel her eyes on you from afar, but every time you approached she suddenly turned icy cold, murmuring excuses and turning down your offer to take her to one of the back rooms for a private show. She was an enigma and a little rude too, but you found yourself hopelessly drawn to her. 

You watch as Natasha limps forward, before spinning around and kicking Danvers in the face. 

“KNOCKOUT! Danvers is down!”

You try to hide your smile. You knew she could do it. She might not have had the greatest track record, but she was still just starting. Maybe she’d come visit you tonight as a way to reward herself, and maybe you’d finally get a real chance to be with her. You turn back to your mirror, reaching for the mascara. You always wanted to make sure you looked the best when she came in.

***********************************************************************

Natasha watches unblinkingly as the nurse presses the enormous ice pack to her bruised thigh, holding it in place with a plastic wrap she’s sure she’s used in the kitchen before. Her ankle is elevated on a chair and she’s only in her underwear now so she caught a full glimpse of the damage Danvers caused before the ice pack hid away most of it. 

She winces when a second nurse pinches the skin above her left eyebrow and presses on a pair of butterfly stitches. 

“How did you win but Danvers walked away better than you?” the first nurse says to no one in particular. Natasha doesn’t answer. 

“I bet the gamblers were not happy with that upset tonight,” the second nurse responds. 

“My daughter knows how to give a show,” a deep Russian voice slurs from behind them. Natasha doesn’t move to acknowledge her father lumber into the locker room. “Very good today, Natasha. Very, very good.” A heavy hand slams painfully on her shoulder and she jolts. “You almost had me fooled, too.” He shakes her and Natasha holds onto the sides of the flimsy metal chair she’s propped in so as not to fall to the floor. “But I trained you well. I know I did.”

“Yes, Dad,” Natasha mumbles, trying to shake his hand off her shoulder. She just wants to be away from everyone now. She hardly cares that it’s her first win in weeks. These were the last people she wanted to be celebrating with.

“Alexei!” The manager walks in next. He’s shorter and smaller than Natasha’s father and Natasha only knows his name as Dreykov. He wears thick-rimmed glasses and has his thin gray hair perpetually slicked back. “I’ve got a good payday for you.”

“For once!” Alexei cheers, walking over to Dreykov. The men share an awkward but enthusiastic handshake, before Dreykov reaches into his coat pocket and pulls out a wad of cash. Natasha swears she can see the dollar signs in her father’s eyes as Dreykov begins peeling and counting bills.

“We’ll be celebrating tonight,” Alexei says as he proudly accepts the money. Almost like it’s an afterthought, he turns towards Natasha and offers her a single, hundred-dollar bill. “Here you go, honey. Treat yourself tonight. Go to that club that you like, but don’t bring any of the girls home.” He and Dreykov laugh. Natasha snatches the bill out of his hand. She knows she’s owed more for her share, but she’s too tired to complain. She hates the situation she’s gotten herself into, but knows there’s no escaping it now.

***********************************************************************

Your eyes scan the club, your vision so well-adjusted to the dim lighting and red LEDs that you can still see faces perfectly well. Either she’s not here yet, or she’s playing her usual game and hiding in the corner with a beer.

Wanda bumps your hip with hers and you remember to keep moving down the catwalk, continuing your performance for the rowdy men cheering by the edge of the stage. But you’re not interested in a single one of them tonight. You’re waiting for the redhead to appear, because this time, you aren’t just going to ogle from afar. 

Natasha carefully lifts herself into a stool at the corner of the bar. The ache in her leg is softened a little by the painkillers her father forced her to take before she left the gym, so she orders a Coke instead of her usual beer. She takes a sip, letting the sugar dissolve in her mouth, and rubs her eyes, suddenly feeling a wave of exhaustion hit her harder than Danvers had. Maybe she should’ve just gone back to her apartment and slept instead of coming here.

“Hi there.”

Natasha nearly jumps out of her seat. You’re suddenly standing next to her, and you look even more beautiful up close. 

“Um, uh…” Natasha splutters, trying not to spill the Coke on herself and setting it back on its coaster. “Hi.”

“I saw your fight earlier. The girls all pitched in for the pay-per-view,” you say.

“Oh.” Natasha feels her cheeks heat up as red as the mood lighting in the club. “That was nice of them.”

“I knew you’d come here to celebrate your win. Congratulations.”

“It was a lucky kick,” Natasha deflects, feeling infinitely embarrassed by your praise.

“No, you won fair and square,” you insist.

“Thanks,” she finally concedes.

“Not even a beer tonight?” you ask, gesturing to her glass of bubbling Coke.

Natasha shakes her head. “I didn’t want to mix alcohol with painkillers.”

“Oh. Sorry about that.” Natasha hears pity in your voice and her stomach twists. She wishes she could appear stronger and cooler. She’s worried that she’s not living up to your expectations as an MMA fighter, even though she had just won a fight (a first in weeks).

“Can I get you something to drink?” she squeaks, desperate to distract herself from the self-loathing.

You wave her offer away. “I was thinking maybe we could go back to one of the private rooms tonight. If you want to, that is.”

“Me? With you?” Natasha blushes as red as her hair. “I…um…” she splutters. “Sorry, I don’t think I have enough money for that right now.”

“My treat,” you say, putting your hand on her forearm, which tenses up considerably under the leather jacket she’s stretching out.

“Oh, that’s um…very nice of you for offering,” she stammers, pulling her arm away. “But you don’t have to. I don’t want to take your time away from paying customers,” she stalls. 

“I want you,” you emphasize, and it makes Natasha’s stomach do somersaults. She’s dreamed of this moment for months, but resigned herself to the fact that she would never have the confidence to ask you this herself. You probably deserved someone much better than her, not a loser who allowed herself to get beat up for a living. 

“Are you sure?” Natasha asks, giving you one final chance to walk away. She didn’t want you to do anything you might later regret.

“Yes,” you assure, and there’s no way someone as dense as Natasha can mistake the passion in your voice for anything less. Natasha finally takes your hand and she hopes you won’t mind the callouses roughening up her palm. She looks around, as if she’s embarrassed someone will catch her with you. But no one is paying attention with the dancers on the stage, where Natasha would normally watch you from afar.

You take her past the bathrooms, through a door she had never noticed before, to an empty hallway marked with more doors. Buzzed on excitement and nerves, Natasha hardly notices the ache in her leg anymore. 

“This one,” you point out the third one on the left and usher her in. 

Natasha isn’t quite sure what she expected, but it almost reminds her of a hotel room. However, she notices there’s no lock on the inside of the door. 

“Um…” Natasha stands there awkwardly behind you as you close the door. “I need you to know something,” she blurts out.

“Yes?”

“I’m a…um, I mean…” She doesn’t know why it’s so hard to admit, she would rather fight Danvers again with both hands tied behind her back. “I’ve never done…this before,” she says lamely, her face reddening in shame.

“Oh.” Natasha deflates when she hears your reaction. “Well, that’s okay,” you add quickly and she stares at you while holding her breath. “I’d love to be your…first.”

“Really?” She doesn’t want you to see her like a chore you have to get done so you can move along your day. “I’m sorry I never approached you first and just watched you from the bar like a creep. I just thought you were so beautiful that you’d never want to give someone like me a chance–”

You lean forward and press your fingers to her lips. Her eyes widen at your touch but she finally picks up the courage to gently lift her hands to your hips, beckoning you to close the distance between the two of you. 

“Are you sure?” Natasha whispers one last time, her breath warm on your cheeks. You nod as she quickly presses her lips to yours, still carrying an air of nervousness. “Should we…the bed?” she suggests, cringing at how crass it sounds.

You hide a chuckle and allow her to lead you to the queen-sized bed, where she sits on the edge first, parting her legs so you can stand between them. You lean down and kiss her again, this time with more passion, and she cups your cheek with her rough palm. She feels the sudden tightening in her pants and shifts her leg to adjust herself.

“It’s your leg okay?” you ask.

“Um, it’s not my leg…”

“Maybe I can help?” you propose, turning your focus first to her belt and then her zipper.  Natasha tries to help you but you push her hands away; instead, she lifts herself off the bed so that you can pull down her pants and boxers. She moans when your hand closes around her shaft and starts tugging at her gently. 

“Y/N,” she whispers, rocking her hips slightly to push more of herself through your hand. Your hand feels infinitely better than hers ever has and just the thought of what your pussy might feel like has her head reeling already. 

“Do you like that?” you ask, ghosting your lips over hers. Natasha tries to kiss you but pulls back and gasps when you squeeze her head, collecting the pre-cum that dribbles out on your finger. She watches with wide eyes as you bring your finger to your mouth and suck it off, and she throbs even harder in your hand.

“Please, Y/N,” she begs, and even her legs are shaking now too (but she suspects that might also be because her muscles are weak).  

“Sit down and take your clothes off,” you tell her, taking off your jacket and tossing it on the floor. Natasha eyes your curves with a spark of lust, but she doesn’t touch you without permission. She hastily tries to follow your instruction, wanting to watch you undress instead, but with a few fumblings rids herself of the leather jacket and the plain white T-shirt she had been wearing underneath. You’ve left yourself in a pair of lacey lingerie as you crawl onto the bed to join her, pushing her back until her spine bumps against the headboard.

“Still okay?” you ask, straddling her waist but mindful of the enormous dark bruise on her right thigh.

“Can I touch you?” Natasha asks, almost squirming underneath you in desperation.

“Of course,” you say, guiding her hands to your hips where she squeezes them roughly, sliding to the backside of your thighs and pulling you towards her. Her hard cock is pressed against her abs when you fall against her and she jogs her hips to create a slight friction between your bodies. You rock forward, smearing some of her pre-cum onto your stomach. Natasha gasps at the sight and feels herself harden even more, until she’s afraid it’s about to burst on the spot.

“I don’t…know how much longer…I’ll last,” she pants, trying to slow the movement of your hips. You’ve hardly touched her and she isn’t even inside you yet, but the shameful thought deflates her just a little bit.

“Just a little more,” you tease, wrapping your hand around her slick cock and pumping it back to full mast again. Natasha grunts and moans, her muscles flexing in an impressive display for you as she tries to enjoy the pleasure without ruining the moment. Her fingers slip under the band of your panties, but you slap her hand away and she looks up at you guiltily.

“Let me,” you insist, leaning back to slowly shimmy out of your panties. Natasha is worried she’ll start drooling when you finally expose yourself to her, where she can see the glimmering wetness of your anticipation. “Look what you’ve done to me,” you say as you lower yourself to press your wetness against her cock. “Feel it.”

“Fuck, Y/N,” Natasha mumbles, wondering if you can feel how hard her cock is throbbing for you too. She cants her hips up to slide herself through your heat, even though the movement reminds her of the pain in her leg. “I need you, baby.”

“I need you too,” you say, moving to match her rhythm. It fills Natasha with happiness to hear you say this; she’s never had it said to her before and quite literally spent most of her time as a punching bag for others. But even if you’re just caught in the heat of the moment and only viewing her as a favor, she wants to enjoy this and couldn’t be more excited you chose to spend time with her tonight.

“Did you bring protection?” you ask, startling Natasha out of the moment.

“Oh…um, yes. It’s in my wallet,” she says, reminded of the little foil packet one of her sparring buddies had given her as a joke. They wouldn’t be laughing anymore when they learned she had finally gotten the chance to use it.

There is an awkward pause as you lift off of Natasha enough for her to slide out and grab the wallet in her jeans, tearing open the packet as she gets on the bed again. Her hands are trembling as she tries rolling the plastic over herself, but you end up helping her finish. 

“Thanks,” she mutters, embarrassed by her own helplessness.

“It’s okay.” You kiss her forehead and hold onto her shoulder with one hand to steady yourself, the other hand gripping onto her shaft and guiding it towards your entrance. “Ready?”

“Yes,” she says, holding her breath and squeezing your hips tighter. 

She easily slides into you, trapping her in a velvet heat that seems to swallow her whole. The two of you moan in unison and Natasha holds herself very still, torn between wanting to bury her entire length in you and not wanting to hurt you. Her heart is racing with exhilaration but she patiently waits for you to start moving, the arousal in her stomach spiking to an almost painful point when she feels how easily she moves through you.    

Her back arches against the headboard when you purposely squeeze her and her nails claw at your thighs. 

“Come on, Nat,” you say, “Come and fuck me.”

Natasha doesn’t respond with words, but jack her hips up hard, meeting your thighs with hers with an audible slap. Her arousal is so strong now it completely drowns out the lightning bolts of pain from her leg as she pistons eagerly into you, trying to fit all of herself into you. She wants your tightness around every inch of her, massaging her in the best way she’s ever been touched before. She can feel herself leaking in the condom and knows it won’t be too much longer until she busts completely. 

But she wants you to feel good too, and doesn’t want to focus too much on her own pleasure. 

You bounce higher with every one of Natasha’s thrusts and she starts to lose her rhythm the closer she gets to release. Her hips and abs burn and she buries her face in your chest, mouthing at your breasts in a last-ditch effort to distract herself, but to no avail. 

Natasha finishes in a few hard spurts that seem to drain all the energy out of her. She lays back limply against the headboard, the muscles in her thighs still twitching. Your riding slows to a full halt as you wait for her body to stop shaking. Natasha reaches up to stroke your face tenderly.

“Thank you,” she whispers, and you beam down at her.

***********************************************************************

Natasha opens her eyes, feeling like she had been hit by a bus. She looks around and doesn’t recognize the space, before she suddenly remembers her successful fight against Danvers, and then the night she had with you. 

But you’re nowhere to be seen now, although Natasha’s clothes, which she had haphazardly tossed to the floor, are now collected in a neat stack on a chair. She gets up to put her clothes on and her phone falls out of her jeans pocket. The screen lights up with text messages from her father, wondering why she was late to practice that morning.

The harshness of reality slapping her in the face, she hurries to dress. She isn’t even sure if she’s supposed to be here, but she finds a back door and sneaks out, unsure if she’ll ever have the confidence to return.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

AN: Sorry this ended kind of sad, I’ve been really sad lately so it only made sense lol.

Please like, reblog, and comment! Follow for more content. 🥰

[bluesidez]

Hello!!! Love that you’re taking requests now 🫶🏽 would you write a domestic!miguel fic? Like showing the chaotic but fluffy dysfunction of the O’Hara household. Miguel and the reader already have two kids, maybe reader is pregnant with the third (if you’re comfortable with writing that)

I just really need some fluff in my life lol 😅

[Five Peas In A Pod]

lab taster: @scorpihoooe 🩻

pairing: Miguel O'Hara x Pregnant!Reader

summary: No family's life is exactly perfect, but it doesn't make them any less beautiful.

content warning: lots and lots of fluff, mentions of vomit, mentions of pregnancy and pregnancy cravings, mentions of food, could possibly be suggestive? but not enough to warrant a huge warning, a lot of crying but I promise it's not sad

word count: 4.3k, not proofread

a/n: I apologize for this being so late! But I'm really happy with how it turned out, so I hope you enjoy it as well!

“Finally.”

Miguel slid under the covers, grunting as he inched towards your back. His breath was warm on your head as he positioned one arm under one of your pillows and another around your waist.

“How are we feeling?” he kissed your scalp and rubbed down your stomach.

“Not too great, she’s been kicking for the past forty minutes.”

“That’s no good,” Miguel shifted to place his mouth on your shoulder. “What’s wrong, mija? Did you miss me?”

Your baby girl brought her feet to where Miguel held his hand, tapping away like there was there was no tomorrow. Miguel chuckled and wrote a pattern into your skin with his thumb.

“I’m glad you two are having a lovely reunion, but I’d like to go to sleep.”

Miguel kissed up your shoulder and neck as you sighed.

“Hear that Gabi? Can you calm down until tomorrow? Mama needs to sleep so you can keep growing. We can talk in the morning.”

Like magic, Gabriella’s little feet slowed to a halt.

“She hasn’t even seen you yet and she’s already a daddy’s girl,” you weave your fingers through his over your stomach. “What’s next? She’ll look like you too?”

“Mm,” Miguel placed his lips behind your ear. “I hope she looks like you. She’ll be the most beautiful in the world.”

You smiled, “Yeah?”

“Of course.”

Miguel took his hands down your body and massaged your hip and lower back. You groaned and melted into your pillow, arching your body into Miguel’s hold. With his ministrations and your daughter giving you a break, you start to fade into dreamland.

You could almost visualize your next craving you were going to make tomorrow. A big bowl of mashed potatoes with chunks of pickles, bacon, and caramel drizzle. Maybe some sprinkles too.

The door of the bedroom creaked, Miguel looking over his shoulder.

“Daddy? Mommy? I threw up.”

Miguel’s hands paused and he heaved a heavy sigh.

There was a dip in the bed and a shuffle of slides across the floor.

“Is your stomach still feeling funny, bub?”

You turned your body to watch Miguel bend down and check your second oldest for soiled clothes. Daniel shook his head and tucked his chin into his chest, eyes welling up with tears.

“Hey, hey, what’s the matter?”

“I’m sorry,” his voice was shaking. “I didn’t mean to.”

You got up on the edge of the bed and walked around to the other side. You sat on your knees next to Miguel and pressed the back of your hand to Daniel’s forehead. He wasn’t burning up, but he was trembling.

“We know you didn’t mean to, honey. Sometimes, we just get sick. It’s ok!”

“Yeah, buddy. Papá gets sick all of the time.”

“Really?” Daniel looked to Miguel with big doe eyes, a baby picture of Miguel brought to life.

“Absolutely.”

“And Mama has to nurse him back to health-”

“Ok! Here,” Miguel tugged at the sleeves of his shirt while you laugh. “Let’s clean you up and get you some medicine. It was probably really scary, huh?”

Daniel nodded his head as Miguel helped him take off his pajama pants.

“C’mon. Let’s take a quick bubble bath. How does that sound? No need to be sad,” you gave Daniel a hug and kissed his cheek.

“I’ll get the sheets and clothes in the washing machine and join you.” Miguel said as he helped you up. So much for cuddles before bed.

Miguel was quick to scope Daniel’s room. Any smell of tonight’s stir fry mixed with the chocolate milk from lunch and your waves of morning sickness might come back. He was quick to transfer the sheets to the washing machine and spray the room down with disinfectant. Luckily, the damage wasn’t drastic, so a quick change of sheets and a mop to the floor was all that was needed.

By the time he got to the bathroom, Daniel was wrapped up in a green dinosaur hoodie towel with a smile on his face as you blew raspberries into his cheek.

Miguel gasped, “Are you two having a party without me?”

Daniel folded his hands under his chin and nodded meekly, face rosy.

“Nonsense!” Miguel swept him up in his arms. “There’s no party without Papá, no?”

The hall filled with giggles as Miguel airplaned Daniel back to his room. The chatter amongst them filled the noise as Miguel reassured Daniel that he and mommy would only be a room away if was feeling sick again.

He ran lotion over his body and placed him in paw print pajamas. He wrapped him tight in the covers and shifted the star night light on the nightstand. With a whisper of goodnight, Miguel inched his way to the door.

However, the crumbling face of the five year old as Miguel looked through the crack tugged at his heart. He opened the door, swept Daniel up, and trudged back to his own bedroom.

Walking into the room, you were laying down with the opposite side of the duvet flipped up and an extra pillow in between yours and his.

Your face was knowing, a shake in your shoulders as you watched Miguel rock a clingy baby in his arms to the bed.

“Joining mommy and daddy, Daniel?”

“Uh huh,” he crawls to the middle and pulls the covers up. You lay a hand on his tummy over the duvet as Miguel slips in with a deep sigh.

He turns and places his hand over yours, the two of you acting as a shield. “I love you’s” and “good nights” are exchanged and a kiss between the two of you is shared before Daniel whines about wanting a kiss too. Both of you laugh and kiss him on his cheeks as he settled into his pillow.

You rub his chest lightly, something that put him to sleep easily as a baby.

His eyes start to close, almost gone to the world, before he jerks back up, startling Miguel whose eyes were just as heavy.

“Papá, can you sing the night-night song?” Daniel pleads.

A soft breath escapes your nose as you watch Miguel blink his eyes open and comply.

“But you have to go to sleep after this, bub.”

Daniel promises to do so as Miguel starts up a lullaby about a baby that wants to sleep but can’t.

It works on you too, the low drum of his voice holding you in his arms as you held your baby in yours.

Gabriella moved, and as softly as you can, you take his hand to your stomach. With this, she taps softly to his palm.

Miguel smiles sleepily as he watches you take a little breath, the rise and fall of your chest showing that you were in a deep sleep.

He only stops singing when he’s sure all three of you are asleep.

“Jaime, I’ve asked you five times to get up already. Get it together.”

There was only one more hour left before everyone needed to be out of the house or else you’d be late to your appointment.

The lump in the bed only moves a bit before it’s still again.

“Jaime, please. I don’t want to have to pull you out of the bed.”

Today was already starting out all over the place. You woke up sweaty and achy, the heat radiating from your furnace of a husband and your snuggly son was too much. Your ankles felt a little more swollen than usual, and you wanted chewy spicy rice cakes with extra cheese, but the heartburn wouldn’t be worth it.

You sighed as your eldest stayed put. A soft pat to the bed only earned a whine and a wiggle from him.

Looking towards the growing footsteps at the door, your husband was frantic and glaring at his watch as if it cursed him.

“What’s the holdup? We need to be in the car soon and Daniel has to be at school early for a field trip.”

You held your hand out to the bed, face defeated.

“Son.”

Jaime shot up with a wobble to his lips and a scrunch to his face at the tone of Miguel’s voice.

You folded your arms, half concerned, half offended.

“I know you hear your mother asking you to get up.”

“But-“

“Jaime O’Hara.”

The tears start to fall as he shuffles out of bed and goes to the bathroom, his cries pitiful and broken.

He swings the door like he’s about to slam it only to close it softly at the end, the sound of his voice carrying through then hallway.

“Was I too hard on him?” Miguel’s shoulders drop.

“No? I don’t think so. But I think there’s something he’s not telling us.”

“Is there something going on at school? Did we miss an important date?”

The two of you stare at each other as Jaime continues to sob in the bathroom.

“There’s no award ceremonies. He hasn’t said anything strange about his classmates. His birthday isn’t until the end of the year. He does have his game coming up.”

Miguel gasps and runs his had through his hair, “He’s been worrying about his 3-pointers nonstop. He’s probably nervous about it.”

He puts his face in his hand and mumbles through his fingers.

“How could I forget?”

You pat his shoulder, “Don’t worry about that right now. What’s important is that we talk to him. Check up on him, calm him down, explain things to him, and encourage him. Right?”

“Absolutely,” Miguel kisses your temple. “You’re so good at this.”

A snicker follows his statement, “And so are you. Now, can you go stop his crying while I make sure Daniel hasn’t made a mess in the kitchen? He’s too quiet.”

Miguel’s eyebrows shot up again as he realized he left the kindergartner to his own devices. The last time he did that, he walked onto a floor covered in flour and dusty, giggly baby.

“Smart idea.”

“Mm hm.”

Miguel turns and heads towards the bathroom, giving it two knocks before asking to come in.

Jaime takes a deep breath and pushes out a yes.

Miguel opens the door to him crying in the mirror while he puts up his toothbrush. If it were anyone else’s child or baby brother, it could have been funny and dramatic, but Miguel sees himself in the way his entire chest jumps when he breathes in.

He hopes Jaime always feels that home is a safe place to cry and yell, something his own parents never offered him.

“Do you want to tell me what’s wrong?”

He left his frustration with the frantic morning at the doorway and stepped inside. With one hand on the counter and another arm resting on his thigh, he squatted down to Jaime’s level.

His son rubbed his eyes from the inside of his elbow to his arm, “I kept messing up.”

“Messing up what? Your shots?”

Jaime nodded his head, curly hair bouncing along with it.

“At practice, Coach made us do Around-the-worlds and the further from the goal, the more I kept missing. But the game is soon, and I can’t mess up at the game.”

His voice reached its highest point and he bit his lip in order not to cry again.

“Oye, está bien. That’s just practice, mijo. The game isn’t until a few more days. There’s plenty of time for us to get to a court and do some more drills. I know it feels like a lot right now, but we can always work to be better. Understood?”

Jaime nodded his head.

“Can you look at me?”

Jaime pouted as he turned to Miguel.

“I apologize for not giving you the space to explain yourself this morning. I was rushing and I didn’t take the time to check on you. For that, Papá’s sorry. Lo siento, mijo.”

With a calmer demeanor, Jaime forgives him. No whines and no hesitation.

“Still, when you’re feeling like this, you need to communicate, ok? Mamá was there and you could have told her that you were worried. You could have even called for me and I would have come running.”

“I didn’t mean to hurt Mamá.”

Miguel bit the inside of his lip in order to not coo, “I know you didn’t. Would you like to apologize to her like I did to you?”

Jaime collided with Miguel’s chest and wrapped his arms around his neck. He could feel the movement of his head nodding.

“Ok, buddy. Let’s go find her after we get your uniform on.”

Jaime wasn’t budging from his spot so Miguel let him cling off his neck as he got up. One day his eldest might not want to do things like this again, so for now he’ll cherish it.

One blazer, some knaki shorts, and a button down later, Jaime was all ready for school.

“And what do we say when we’re feeling down about ourselves?” Miguel asked as he tucked in the end of Jaime’s belt.

“Nothing can stop me from the path I want to take, not even my doubts.”

“And?”

“O’Hara’s may make mistakes, but O’Hara’s bounce back. O’Hara’s succeed.”

“¡Exactamente!” Miguel patted his back.

“¿Papá?”

“¿Sí, mijo?”

Jaime held his hands up, silently pleading with Miguel.

With an easy tug, his son was in his arms. As tall as he was getting, he was still Miguel’s baby.

In the kitchen, you were leaning over the island as you listened intensely to Daniel talk about types of dinosaurs. You looked up to your son in your husband’s arms and you knew they had a good talk.

Miguel strode up to you and looked at Jaime expectantly.

“I,” he picked at his uniform tie. “I’m sorry for not listening to you this morning Mamá. I was sad but that- that doesn’t mean I was supposed to ignore you.”

Your eyes started to water, “I forgive you, Jaime. I’m glad you were able to figure out what was wrong. Can I give you a kiss?”

“Yes, please.”

With that, you kiss his cheek and place a hand on his head.

“Papá, pick me up too!” Daniel huffs out.

Miguel complies, holding him in his other arm like nothing. You giggle at the three of them, all very similar in some way. Their skin, their hair, their smiles. Your precious, precious boys.

A sharp kick to your stomach causes you to suck in through your teeth.

“What’s wrong? Are you hurt?” Miguel asks with a pinch in his brow.

“No, I just think a certain someone wants your attention, too.”

You gently press your stomach to your husband’s, hoping that he could feel Gabriella’s tap dance performance.

“She’s going crazy in there,” you mumble.

Miguel can kind of feel her little feet through his shirt, but really, he was staring at you.

Even as you frowned at your stomach, you were still so beautiful. Your skin was glowing, you were giving him more smiles than ever, and the pregnancy was treating your body right in his eyes.

“Mírame.”

You peer up at him and it’s like a halo appears above your head. He’s quick to slot his lips against yours and hold it, the feeling of warmth settling into his bones.

“Eugh,” Jaime scrunches his face up in disgust.

You pull back and shake your head with a heated face, brought back to reality. Daniel is giggling behind his hands.

Miguel turned to Jaime and bombarded his face with kisses to, leading the 9-year-old to scream bloody murder. You joined Miguel on his attack, not stopping until Jaime waved his white flag.

The two of you looked at each other and then at Daniel simultaneously who squeaked when he saw you grin. Laughter filled the kitchen as the three of you gave Daniel some love.

Mornings were for chaos, but they also brought you together.

By the time Miguel was walking to the car with his kids, it was far past his estimated time.

He turned and looked at you still standing by the kitchen counter.

“Baby, c’mon.”

“But,” you pause, smile growing on your face. “The baby wants to be carried, too.”

You think he’s about to brush the comment off with a sigh but he gives a “One sec” and disappears into the garage with the kids.

You go to gather your purse and your water, checking that all of the lights and appliances are turned off.

“Ok,” Miguel rushes back in and claps his hands, “vamos.”

Three blinks at his wrestler stance and it clicks. You walk to him and your feet leave the ground.

“You’re so silly,”

“Just in love, mi amor.”

The gel was still as cold as ever, you could never really get used to it.

Looking to Miguel, you could see that he could never get used to sitting next to you in these rooms either. His grip on your hand was tight and solid.

The obstetrician slid the transducer on your lower stomach, her eyes sliding over the screen.

Gabriella’s little heartbeat bounced through the room, fast and strong.

Miguel’s grip on your hand loosened as he smiled at the screen.

“Baby girl is looking good,” the doctor says. “Everything is in place and she’s growing perfectly. You both should be proud.”

She paused and looked at you both, specifically at Miguel, “I would be worried about how she big she’s getting at this stage, but I can see why. How tall are you?”

“Uh, 6’9.”

A whistle passes her lips, “Godspeed, Mama. You’ll need it for the next several months.”

“Two boys and my only girl is going to give me a run for my money,” you mumble.

Jaime and Daniel were so tiny when they came out, both of them barely showing at five months. Gabriella is close to being almost twice their size at this rate, and the soreness all over your body was showing it.

At least your husband made time to make you feel good in more ways than one.

“Is there anything that she should look out for? Other than the obvious?” Miguel asks, always the worrier.

“No, I think you guys are good to go. I’ll get you some pictures of the baby and get you checked out. Just keep taking your vitamins, get plenty of water, get those feet up, and stretch as much as you can while you still feel like it. The least stress you have, the better.”

Your stomach is wiped clean and in no time, you’re back in the car trying to decide what to get for lunch.

“I feel like I should have asked more questions,” Miguel’s fingers tapped on the wheel.

“I’m sure you’ll have more that you can call her for later, baby. Right now, I want a milkshake.”

“You need some nourishing food, too.”

“Is that what you want Gabriella?” you ask your stomach. No taps, no spins, no twirls. “What about a milkshake? Chocolate oreo? Extra whip cream?” Gabriella thumps three times.

“My girl is already so smart,” you say to Miguel who scowls.

“Already so spoiled.”

“You love it, though.”

“Mm.”

Miguel swore he would never be like those fathers that only connected to their children through their own expectations of them, and to be fair, he was the complete opposite.

Though seeing him stand at the bottom of the bleachers with a baseball cap, folded arms, and a stern face gave the impression that he was that type of dad.

“¡Ay, eso es faulta!”

“Babe. Maybe let’s let the coach and the referee do their jobs.”

“They don’t know what they’re doing. That was clearly a foul and my son should be holding the ball right now.”

You sighed and continued to chew on your nachos with Daniel who was just happy to be out of the house later than usual. Miguel was about to burn a hole in the gymnasium floor with how stiff he was standing.

Behind him was a family that couldn’t see, leaning around him.

“Miguel, honey, please sit down so everyone can see.”

He sits and folds his hands under his chin. His muscles bulge through his jacket as his legs bounce.

You place a hand on his leg and put a water bottle to his lips. He takes a few sips and focuses back on the game.

“Let’s go, Jaime! Make it count!”

He’s back on his feet again as Jaime gets ready to shoot some free-throws.

Jaime looks at Miguel, a hint of fear in his eyes. Miguel brings his hands up and pushes them down, motioning a deep breath.

“You got this, mijo. Just like we practiced.”

Your son dribbles once, twice, and takes the shot.

The basketball flies through the air and brushes the rim of the basket. It spins and the gym goes quiet. You don’t realize your holding your breath until it comes back when the people behind you stomp on the bleachers.

Jaime looks to Miguel with the brightest face he could muster. Miguel almost springs through the ceiling with how high he jumps.

“That’s my son,” he claps his hands like thunder, chest puffing up. “That’s my son!”

The game continues with Miguel milliseconds from fighting with the official, Jaime looking to Miguel for encouragement, and you smacking the back of his thighs whenever he was standing too much.

When Jaime made the final basket, you were scared Miguel might do a backflip.

Jaime ran to him and jumped in his arms, Miguel spinning him around and laughing with glee.

“I did it, daddy! I did it!”

“¡Eres increíble, mijo! I’m so proud of you.”

“Did you see me, mommy?”

“I did! I couldn’t take my eyes off of you!”

Daniel jumps up and down, “You made the ball go whoosh! And, and, and when it went in everybody screamed!”

Jaime and his brother played together as the gym started to empty out.

“What do you say we celebrate with some pizza?” you ask Miguel as you watch Jaime help Daniel dribble.

“I think that’s an excellent idea.”

“And what do you say to carton of cotton candy ice cream after the kids go to bed? Maybe even a soak in the bath?”

Miguel looked to you as you blinked your eyes at him. You slid your hands down his arm and tilted your head.

“You want vanilla wafers too?”

You nod.

“And strawberry syrup?”

“You’re such a good husband.”

You pull him down to kiss him, heart soaring.

“Mamá! Look what I can do!”

“No, Daniel! Don’t jump off that!”

“If I hear that raccoon sing that song one more time, I’m going to lose it,” Miguel bit into a slice of pizza.

You reached across the table to wipe some ranch off of his lips and lick it away.

“I like the song! He’s a little off-key, though.”

Miguel had a grimace on his face, the energy from the building overwhelming. Or perhaps it was Daniel clinging tight to his side whenever the mascot came close to their table.

A couple of kids ran by, running towards the line for laser tag.

You listened to them go over strategies, all very serious coming from them.

“God, I can’t believe he’ll be 10 soon. I don’t know what I’m going to do.”

You poke the straw of your cup in and out, pout on your face. It felt like just yesterday you and Miguel were setting up his nursery.

“I remember him grabbing my finger at the hospital. So strong for someone who couldn’t eat solids yet.”

“Now he’s running around and blooming into this perfect little boy,” you sigh, watching him catapult into a ballpit. You should definitely make him take some vitamins later, just to be sure.

“And this little boy is the sweetest,” Miguel kissed the top of Daniel’s head, who seemed to be pre-occupied with a coloring book you packed.

“And once our little girl is in our arms, it’ll be so special,” you say. “She’s already making an impact.”

“I’m already crazy about her,” Miguel grins.

“And I’m ready for her to come out,” you snicker. “I have a feeling that whatever she’ll do will involve these rapid fire feet.”

“I need to get some new running shoes then,” Miguel replies in all seriousness. Daniel interrupted him with a drawing of a T-rex.

“When she gets here,” Miguel comments in between his praise for Daniel’s skill, “how do you want to celebrate afterwards?”

“I don’t need anything. Just maybe a plate of food I couldn’t eat and a comfy bed.”

“Mamà, c’mon,” Miguel held your hand across the table. “That can be arranged easily. I mean something especially for you for doing something so amazing. It can be anything. I’ll make it happen.”

Your heart sped up, a bit giddy.

“Well the last time we took a trip to an island and,” you panned to Daniel, “we both know how that ended. Maybe the mountains?”

“We can do the mountains. Or just you and your friends if you want.”

Miguel thought about you all bundled up and cozy, enjoying s'mores and wine in a sweater and a blanket. Peak cuddling form.

“That would be very nice. Thank you, Miggy.”

“Of course. Now what do you say to a friendly game of arcade racing?”

“There’s nothing friendly about leaving you in the dust.”

Miguel scoffed and slid Daniel into his arms.

“It’s on.”

As always, if you enjoyed, please like, reblog, and COMMENT! This was very sweet to write!!

[thehistoriccemetery]

Companions React to Reader Sitting on Their Lap

It’s another pretty short one this week, as I’ve had terrible Minthara brainrot and I’ve been able to write nothing but filthy smut 😔

Anyway, this one is some family friendly head canons about the ladies with a bonus Dame Aylin and Isobel!

Shadowheart

Shadowheart doesn’t say anything at first, but you do notice her skin get slightly redder, and you watch a tiny smirk grow across her face.

She’s not typically one for public displays of affection, but something about lap sitting is different.

It’s like affection with plausible deniability. What else was I supposed to do? Sit on the floor?

After you’ve done it once, Shadowheart considers the barrier broken and takes every opportunity to sit on your lap.

Sometimes you think she must have a sixth sense that tells her when you sit down, because she simply appears on your lap.

If you cross your legs or do anything else to prevent her sitting in your lap, she gives you a little cough to let you know you should remedy that as soon as possible.

Depending on who’s around, she’ll sometimes lean back against you, pressing her whole body to yours.

She likes it when you wrap your arms around her and rest your head on her shoulder.

While she prefers to be the one sitting on your lap, she’s still more than happy to let you sit on hers.

Lae’zel

The first time you try sitting on her lap, she pushes you off. Why are you sitting on top of her? Weirdo. You roll your eyes and sit on the ground.

But then she decides that it’s weirder you’re sitting on the ground so she gives you her seat.

But then she doesn’t want to stand anymore. Tsk’va. Whatever. Guess she’s gonna have to sit on you.

Lae’zel only ever sits on your lap, never the other way around. She oddly never picks up on any of the possible implications of that.

If anyone calls Lae’zel a bottom she’s gonna throw hands.

She doesn’t lay up against you or anything. To her this move is strictly practical, or at least she acts like it is.

You let her have it. As far as you’re concerned, you have a lovely girlfriend on your lap so you’re not going to complain.

Karlach

The first time you nonchalantly sit down in Karlach’s lap, she’s so chill and unfazed.

At least, that’s the vibe she’s trying to give off. She can be cool about this. So cool.

It’s less than a minute before her body starts to betray her. Her legs bounce up and down excitedly under you. As soon as you turn to face her, her stoic expression cracks into one of pure delight.

After that, Karlach pulls so many tricks to ask you to sit in her lap without actually having to ask.

Oh no! There’s no more chairs! Wherever will you sit? Looks like it’ll just have to be in her lap again. Ignore those broken chairs hidden in the corner, this isn’t about them.

You catch on pretty fast. Only so many chairs can disappear before things start to get suspicious.

You sit yourself on Karlach’s lap, watching the goofy smile grow across her face. “You know you can just ask, right?”

Her skin flushes and she buries her face in your neck. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Unfortunately, she’ll never sit on your lap because she’s too afraid to crush you. Even if you’re bigger than her. You’re too precious to risk it.

Minthara

Minthara is always taking up as much space as she desires in any given situation, so it’s not uncommon that she takes up the space of more than one person.

Luckily she’s always got a place for you to sit, whether that be in between her legs or on them.

She’s never bashful about pulling you into her lap, even when there people are around.

If anything, an audience actually encourages her. You are hers, and that is most clear to everyone when you’re perched on her thigh.

Other times she will be slightly more subtle, tapping her inner thigh in a silent invitation, queuing you to join her.

There are very few scenarios in which Minthara will sit on your lap though. At least, in public.

If you try to get her to sit, she’ll shoot you an “I know that you know this isn’t how this works” look, leaving you to let her take your seat and take your position on her lap.

Jaheira

It really depends on the day with Jaheira.

Most days she going to tell you to get an extra chair. There is no need for you to be sitting in her lap right now.

Sometimes, even if there is no extra chair she would have you sit at her feet in front of her before she let you into her lap.

But on those particularly long and hard days, when you come back looking exhausted and beat, she will allow for some extra tenderness.

She’ll gently guide your head to rest on her shoulder or against her chest and stroke your hair.

If you’re in a more comfortable space she will even slide her hand up under your shirt to rub your back.

More often than not, you fall asleep almost instantly, even if everyone around you is still making a ruckus.

She’s still not going to carry you to bed though. You can walk yourself there.

Dame Aylin x Isobel

Isobel is a princess and Dame Aylin is her throne. It’s more common than not the Isobel is on Aylin’s lap.

For Aylin, it’s like displaying a beautiful trophy. She needs everyone to look at her beautiful girlfriend right now.

The notion makes Isobel blush, but she’s just as proud to have Aylin as Aylin is to have her, so she’ll allow it.

Aylin doesn’t sit on Isobel’s lap, nor would she ever allow her to give up her seat, but Aylin will sit at her feet and gaze up at her with awe and wonder while Isobel smiles down at her and runs her hands through the aasimar’s hair.

And Selune forbid there’s no place for Isobel to sit. Aylin would sooner get down on one knee and let Isobel sit on her leg than leave a tired Isobel to stand.

Aylin’s shoulders are also an acceptable option. She can hoist Isobel up there with ease. She’ll never have to walk for any longer than she wishes.

Granted, it makes them like 10 feet tall, so there’s only a few places it’s applicable before Isobel has to be on alert for low hanging obstacles.

[fangswbenefits]

A Series of Firsts

𓂅 𓄹 Summary: You and Miguel are ready to become parents and you must now go through a series of firsts together.

𓂅 𓄹 Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x spider-woman!reader

No warnings. Just pure fluff. Mentions of pregnancy. Dad girl Miguel. Protective dad Miguel.

First Kick

“What colour should we have on the walls?” Miguel asked one day.

“Beige?”

“Boring.”

“Red?”

“Too much.”

“Red and blue?”

“That’s too… spidey.”

You giggled at his remark. “We’ll just pick a neutral one and let her decide as she grows up.”

“That’s settled, then,” he murmured, resting the side of his head on your baby bump as both of you lay comfortably on the bed.

“Fingers crossed for a zebra pattern in purple and green,” you teased.

“She can have whatever she wants,” he said simply and you knew he meant it.

Warmth spread in your heart, realising Miguel would give her anything she’d ask for. Even the moon.

As you rolled a single strand of his hair around your finger, you gasped abruptly and halted.

Miguel shot up straight in full alert mode. “What is it? Are you okay?”

You nodded, running both hands along your belly, waiting to feel it once more.

He immediately picked up on the meaning of your sudden silence and placed a splattered hand next to yours.

It didn’t take long for a second kick to be felt and you watched his face awe. “Does it hurt?”

“No,” you whispered adoringly at his concern.

He paused briefly. “That was a strong kick.”

You placed your hand atop his. “She’ll take after you, then.”

First Time Meeting

Jessica placed the little bundle of joy into his arms as soon as the spider-nurses were done checking the vitals and dressing her.

“What is this?” Miguel asked with a light scowl, shifting to have the sleeping baby face you.

Even through your post-labour exhaustion you managed to giggle.

She was dressed in a red and blue suit-like onesie that had Peter’s face printed onto the fabric as rainbow coloured words read ‘my 1st spider suit’.

“Remind again me why we let him choose.”

“You know how Peter is,” you said softly. “It’s a very cute gift.”

“Right.”

Miguel didn’t seem all that convinced, but brought her back against his chest protectively.

You watched as Miguel’s hardened face immediately softened in adoration and, for a couple of minutes, he just stood there, rocking her lightly in his arms.

“She’s… tiny,” he concluded, fingers probing around her hand. “She’s perfect.”

He raised her slowly up to his face and he planted a soft kiss to her forehead, earning a sudden yawn.

“Welcome home,” he whispered to her, completely transfixed. “I’ll always protect you.”

Something inside you stirred. This big grumpy man with volatile moods had just been disarmed by a tiny baby.

That was definitely a sight to behold.

First Sleepless Night

“We’re not having another baby.”

“Agreed.”

“Ever.”

Miguel let out a measured sigh in agreement. “Ever.”

The two of you lay sprawled across the large bed, facing the ceiling as the first rays of sunshine began to lit up the room.

Your daughter had finally fallen asleep after hours of fighting against it, nearly driving both of you crazy in the process.

As you readied yourself to slide off the mattress, you felt Miguel’s hold on your wrist stilling you.

“Don’t move,” he whispered. “Please.”

You groaned inwardly. “I need to go pee, Miguel.”

Sleepy and bloodshot eyes met yours. “It took us hours to drain her energy… hold it in for a while,” now that was a desperate tone if you’d ever heard one from him.

You heaved a long and heavy sigh, feeling his thumb gently rubbing at your pulse point in sheer gratitude.

“Yup. No more babies, O’Hara.”

“Maybe one more?”

You shot him a death glare and he swallowed hard.

“… or not.”

First Scare

You paced around the apartment, having already lost count of the amount of baby monitors that Miguel had spread all over the place.

“This is a bit too much, no?”

Miguel was checking on the sleeping baby through the orange-tinted screen of his dimensional travel watch when he turned to glare at you like you had just said the most abominable thing ever.

“You can never be too careful,” he said in disbelief.

It was to be expected, really. Miguel was always obsessed with security no matter the context, so you couldn’t really say this surprised you.

“Even the watch?” you asked in awe.

“Of course. It’s a looped system that transmits directly to both our watches,” he said with a nod. “Any alteration in her bedroom trigers an alarm.”

Ever the scientist.

His eyes dropped to the hologram on his wrist and he let out a gasp.

“What?”

“She’s gone!”

Your heart nearly collapsed as a feral Miguel immediately set himself on all fours towards her bedroom, clawing at floor.

“Miguel!” you called after him in a hurry.

Once you reached the open door, you were presented with Peter holding your daughter as Mayday chuckled happily, seated on his shoulder.

“Peter!” Miguel growled, yanking your daughter from his hold and bringing her close to his chest defensively.

“Miguel! We were just paying a visit,” he chuckled. “Cute baby, by the way,” he turned to you with a smile and a flick of his fingers.

But Miguel was having none of that. “Out!”

Mayday stuck out her tongue at him right away, a habit she had yet to let gonof whenever Miguel was around.

“Lyla, why wasn’t the alarm triggered?”

The AI appeared by his shoulder at once, filing her nails. “You forgot to activate the security system, boss.”

First Word

“Pa~pá! Say it. Paaa~pá!”

“Cheater!” you exploded as you entered the kitchen in large steps.

Miguel turned to face you as your daughter giggled.

“We promised to let it be something spontaneous,” you lifted an accusing finger at him. “Cheater!”

He lifted both hands defensively. “I’m just giving her some help.”

In truth, you weren’t upset with him in the slightest. He had been such a constanr presence in his daughter’s life even through an exhausting amount of work around Nueva York.

You feigned indignation crossing your arms across your chest.

Miguel picked her out of the baby chair and walked towards you with a tentative smile.

“I’m sorry.”

Your front broke right away as he leaned to nudge his forehead against yours. “You’re still a cheater,” you accused, not able prevent your lips from curling into a smirk.

“I’ll make it up to you.”

Your daughter started clapping enthusiastically. “Petaah~” and then burst into laughter.

Miguel looked down at her in shock. “What?”

It was almost comedic irony that the first word your daughter said was Peter, which had Miguel sulk for a couple of days.

First Steps

You missed kissing Miguel with no interruptions. Having some alone time in between taking care of your daughter was not easy to come by.

So whenever there was an opening, you’d both make it count.

He had your back pressed against the cold surface of the bedroom wall in no time, framing your face with both hands to deepen the searing kiss.

You melted into his touch right away, yearning for more.

Miguel broke the kiss momentarily to check his watch, panting lightly. “She’s still in the living room.”

You sighed in relief as he took your lips in his once more, hungrier this time. Both of your hands were resting on his firm chest, enjoying the way his muscles rippled under your touch.

Miguel hummed into you, swallowing your gasps and moans.

Your eyes were about to flutter shut when you detected movement out of the corner of your eye.

Panic took over and you immediately pushed Miguel away with a yelp.

Standing by the door was your daughter, gripping the frame with tiny hands, barely able to keep her balance.

Miguel offered her a kind smile. “Hey, you… come here.”

Your heart was hammering hard in your chest as you struggled to even your breathing.

She broke into an amused chuckle, wobbling in Miguel’s direction as he dropped to one knee. “Come here,” he encouraged.

But she would only take a couple of steps before her legs gave out under her to have her sit on the floor.

This was evidently very amusing as she kept trying to mimic her first attempt in between laughter

Miguel exchanged a proud smile with you and, for the first time in a long, you didn’t mind being interrupted.

Masterlist

[natsaffection]

LITERALLY COMING HERE BECAUSE I SOMEHOW COOKED UP AN IDEA?????

Small request that Nat is bestfriends with y/n’s dad. Like a litttleee age gap, like y/n is 21 and Nat is older in her 30’s or early 40’s (practically leaving it up to you) but readers dad is still protective and had to leave the house due to a relative getting sick. Asking Nat to come watch over y/n, yet the two of them dance around each other with harmless teasing and flirting but they both know that they’re attracted to each other but fear that it isn’t right. Gives Nat a PERFECT opportunity to love y/n like she always wanted to.

could be g!p Nat if you want, leaving that up to you too but like I’ve BEEN feasting on your smut recently

Never say Never. | N.R

Warnings: 18+! MINORS DNI!, Age Gap! (N=41 | r= 21), G!P Nat, sniffling on Pantys, fingering, Loss of virginity, unprotected Sex, soft to rough sex, hot talking trough, begging and overstimulation

Word count: 6,8k

A/n: Well..A small request quickly became Six thousand words. I added another request, so it's actually two..Hope you two Anons dont mind! But otherwise I wouldn't follow, there are eight more waiting for me.🫶🏼 🧎🏻‍♀️

You sat on the couch, half-heartedly listening to the conversation while scrolling through your phone, pretending not to notice your father’s growing tension. He had been on edge since the call from his sister, who lived a few hours away. A sudden illness had thrown the family into turmoil, and now he was preparing to leave on short notice.

"I know, I know.." he said into the phone, his voice tinged with worry. "But I can’t just leave her here alone." You playfully rolled your eyes. "Dad, I’m 21. I think I can manage a few days on my own."

Your father shot you a look that was half serious, half affectionate. "I know you can take care of yourself, but I’d feel better if someone was here to keep an eye on you. You know how much I worry."

Before you could continue arguing, he returned to his call, his voice softening as he spoke. "Natasha, are you sure? It’s very last-minute."

Your ears perked up at the mention of Natasha’s name. She had been your father’s best friend for years. They met in the military and had remained close ever since. You had always admired Natasha’s strength and confidence, not to mention her striking looks. She was older, yes, but that only made her more appealing in your eyes. Not that you would ever admit that out loud, especially not to her.

But the thought of Natasha staying with you while your father was away sent a wave of excitement through you, one you quickly tried to suppress. Natasha was practically like family, and besides, it was impossible that someone like her could ever see you as more than her best friend’s daughter.

"Yeah, she’s home," your father said now. "if you could come over, that would be great. I’d feel a lot better if you were here." Your heart skipped a beat. Tonight. Natasha was coming over tonight. Oh god..

After a few more words, your father ended the call and turned to you with a small smile. "Natasha’s on her way. She’ll be here soon, and I’ll head out once she arrives." You nodded, trying to keep your expression neutral. "That’s fine, Dad. But honestly, you didn’t have to worry so much." Your father laughed and ruffled your hair as he walked by. "I can’t help it. It’s my job."

As the minutes passed, you grew increasingly restless. You weren’t exactly sure why the thought of Natasha coming over made you so nervous. You’d spent time with her before, but this time was different, being alone with her in the house, especially now that you were old enough to understand the fluttering feelings that her presence stirred in you.

When the doorbell finally rang, your pulse quickened. Your father opened the door and greeted Natasha warmly as she stepped inside. You stayed in the background, taking her in. Natasha was dressed casually, but even in a simple leather jacket, she exuded confidence and grace, her green eyes sparkled with a mix of amusement and something else you couldn’t quite place.

"Hey." Natasha greeted you in her soft voice, smiling. There was something in the way she looked at you that made your stomach do a little flip. But you quickly pushed it aside, reminding yourself that Natasha was just being friendly.

"Hi." you replied, trying to keep your voice steady. "Thanks for coming over."

"No problem." Natasha said, her gaze lingering on you a moment longer than necessary before she turned to your father. "I’ve got everything under control here. You can go take care of your sister." Your father nodded, relieved. "Thanks, Nat. I owe you one."

After a few more words of reassurance, your father grabbed his bags and headed out, leaving the house in an eerie silence. You stood uncertainly in the living room, not sure what to say now that it was just the two of you.

Natasha was the first to break the silence. "So, what’s the plan for tonight?" she began, her tone light but with a teasing undertone. "Are we going to throw a wild party, or are you more of a Netflix and chill type?"

You laughed, some of the tension easing. "Definitely Netflix and chill. But you get to pick the movie." Natasha raised an eyebrow, a playful smile tugging at her lips. "Dangerous move, letting me choose. I have very specific tastes."

There it was again..that teasing, almost flirtatious tone that made your heart beat faster. You couldn’t tell if Natasha was just playing with you or if there was more behind those words. But either way, you found yourself firing back "I can handle it." you said with a grin. "Bring it on."

As you both settled on the couch, you couldn’t help but sneak glances at Natasha. You knew you shouldn’t let your thoughts wander, but it was hard not to when she was sitting so close, her body warm and inviting. And it didn’t help that she occasionally, whether accidentally or on purpose, brushed against you, sending a shiver down your spine each time.

As the movie started, you tried to focus on the screen, but your thoughts kept drifting back to the woman next to you. Natasha had, of course, chosen an action film, but you found it hard to follow the plot when every little movement Natasha made seemed amplified in the quiet room.

Natasha, on the other hand, was having similar difficulties. She could feel your presence beside her, so close that your legs almost touched. Occasionally, you would shift, briefly brushing against her, and Natasha had to fight to keep her attention on the movie. She knew she shouldn’t think about you this way, not when she was supposed to be the responsible adult here, but it was difficult to push those thoughts away and this was dangerous territory, Natasha knew that.

"So, is this your favorite type of movie?" you asked suddenly, breaking the silence. Your tone was half teasing, but there was also a hint of genuine curiosity in your voice. Natasha turned to you, a slight smile playing on her lips. "What can I say? I like things that get the adrenaline pumping."

You raised an eyebrow, catching the double meaning in Natasha’s words. "Is that so?" you replied, your tone equally playful. "I would have pegged you as more of a rom-com type."

Natasha laughed, shaking her head. "Only if they’re really good or really bad. I’m talking cheesy, predictable plots, over the top romance stuff that makes you cringe and laugh at the same time." You smiled, liking the idea that Natasha secretly enjoyed something so cheesy. "I’ll keep that in mind for next time."

"Next time?" Natasha’s eyes sparkled with amusement. "Are you already planning another movie night?"

"Maybe.." you said, leaning back into the couch, feeling a bit bolder now. "If you don’t mind hanging out with someone my age.." You want to risk it.

Natasha’s smile faltered briefly, the reminder of your age difference bringing the nagging doubts back to the forefront of her mind. She knew it was hard to ignore, but the reality of the situation was difficult to overlook. She was older, more experienced, and you were still so young..young enough to be her friend’s daughter.

"I don't mind," Natasha said after a moment, her voice now softer and more serious. Your heart skipped a beat at Natasha's words. You had thought the same, worried that Natasha might only see you as a child. But the fact that Natasha acknowledged it and was still sitting here with you gave you hope that maybe, just maybe, you weren't the only one with these feelings.

The room fell into a comfortable silence, but the air between you was still charged with unspoken words. You played with the thoughts again and couldn't shake the fear that it was wrong, that Natasha would never see you as anything more than the daughter of her best friend. The age difference was not just a number, it seemed like an almost insurmountable barrier.

Natasha, on the other hand, had similar thoughts. She had noticed how you moved closer, the subtle shifts in your body language, and it was driving her crazy. Part of her wanted to reach out, pull you into her arms, and see where the night would take you. But the other part? The part that knew better held her back. She couldn't simply ignore the fact that you were young, that you had your whole life ahead of you, and that a relationship with someone like her could complicate things in ways neither you nor she was prepared for.

"So," Natasha finally said, "if you don't like action movies, what do you like?" You hesitated, your mind racing with a thousand different answers, most of which had to remain unspoken. Eventually, you settled on a safe answer, though your tone was still playful. "I guess I like movies that have a bit of everything. action, romance, maybe a little mystery. Something that keeps you on your toes." Natasha nodded, her gaze intense as she looked at you. "Sounds like you enjoy a good challenge."

"I do." you replied, holding her gaze. "But I also like it when things surprise me..you know, when something happens that you don't see coming."

There was a moment of silence as Natasha processed your words, wondering if there was a deeper meaning behind them. Aaand that was the moment you realized that the conversation was moving beyond mere fun and flirting. But now, as Natasha sat quietly, her expression unreadable, you felt a wave of doubt wash over you.

Had you gone too far? Was Natasha uncomfortable? The last thing you wanted was for things to get awkward between the two of you, especially when you weren't even sure if Natasha felt the same way you did. The silence dragged on, and your confidence began to waver. You felt the heat rise to your cheeks, and embarrassment started to creep in. Maybe Natasha was just trying to think of a way to gently turn you down, to remind you that the age difference was something that shouldn't, or couldn't happen.

Needing to escape the tension you had unintentionally created, you cleared your throat and forced a small smile. "I, um..I think I'll go take a shower." You stood up, hoping Natasha wouldn't notice the slight trembling in your hands as you picked up your phone from the table.

"Sure." Natasha said, her voice calm, but there was an undertone you couldn't quite place. "I'll be here." You nodded, a quick, tense smile on your lips before you turned and headed to the bathroom. As you closed the door behind you, you leaned against it for a moment, taking a deep breath to calm yourself. You were probably overthinking the situation.

But still, the doubt lingered as you undressed and stepped under the shower, letting the warm water flow over your body. You hoped the shower would help clear your mind, push aside the awkward tension you felt, and maybe even help you figure out what to do next. But instead, your thoughts kept circling back to Natasha, her eyes, the way she had looked at you so intensely, the softness in her voice when she mentioned the age difference..

You wanted to believe that there was something there, that Natasha might not be as indifferent as you had feared. But every time you thought about making a move, that fear returned, reminding you that Natasha was older, wiser, and probably only saw you as her friend's daughter. It was complicated, and the last thing you wanted was to make things weird between the two of you.

Natasha was watching as you retreated to the bathroom, a small, satisfied smile playing on her lips. She had seen how your teasing had backfired on you, the sudden insecurity that had flashed across your face. It was clear that you were second guessing yourself, thinking you might have crossed a line. But Natasha knew better. She had seen the slight blush on your cheeks, the way your voice had faltered when you excused yourself to take a shower. You were nervous, but not in a bad way. You were flustered, and Natasha found herself relishing in that small victory.

After you left the room, Natasha stood up. She began walking through the house, taking in the familiar surroundings. It had been a while since she had been here, and while much of the house remained unchanged, there were small differences like new photos on the walls or different decorations.

As she wandered, her steps led her to the door of your bedroom. It was slightly ajar, and Natasha hesitated for only a moment before pushing it open. The room was warm, the faint scent of your perfume still lingering in the air. Natasha's eyes were instantly drawn to the bed, where a small pile of clothing lay, presumably the ones you had just taken off. Among them, a delicate pair of underwear caught Natasha's attention, and she felt a surge of heat course through her body as she picked up the delicate lingerie. She knew she shouldn't be here, that her thoughts were veering into dangerous territory, but she couldn't resist the pull. Her fingers ran over the soft fabric, and a quiet shiver ran through her body. The familiar scent of you clinging to the clothing sent her senses into overdrive. Natasha closed her eyes briefly, unable to completely ignore the intensity of the moment.

Her breathing became heavier as she brought the underwear closer to her face, inhaling the scent. An internal battle raged within her, between the rational part of her that told her she needed to stop and the unbridled desire that urged her to continue. Natasha felt her self control beginning to crumble, her thoughts wandering to you, standing naked and vulnerable just a room away.

While she was lost in these forbidden fantasies, Natasha didn't notice that you had finished your shower. The world around her blurred, and all she could sense was the scent, the warmth, and the thought of you. Her hand slipped under the waistband of her jeans, and she began to touch herself, lost in the thought of you being with her. As she stood there, lost in her thoughts, she hadn’t heard the bathroom door open. She hadn’t noticed your quiet steps until it was too late.

"Natasha?"

Your voice pulled Natasha out of her reverie, and she turned sharply, her eyes widening in surprise as she saw you standing there, wrapped only in a towel, your wet hair clinging to your shoulders. For a moment, both of you froze, the air between you thick with tension and something far more primal.

Your eyes drifted to the underwear in Natasha's hand, then back to her face, a mix of shock and confusion on your expression. "What are you doing?"

Natasha felt a brief surge of fear, she hadn’t meant to be caught, hadn’t wanted you to see her like this. But as she looked into your wide eyes, a new resolve settled over her. This was the moment she had been waiting for, and she wasn’t going to let it slip by.

She dropped the underwear back onto the bed and slowly walked toward you, her movements deliberate, almost predatory. Instinctively, you took a step back, but you were already too close to the wall, and Natasha knew she had you exactly where she wanted. "Y/n," Natasha said softly, her voice low and commanding, "don’t be afraid."

"I..I’m not afraid.." you stammered, though the slight tremor in your body betrayed your nervousness. Your back touched the wall, and you found yourself cornered between it and Natasha’s imposing figure.

Natasha placed her hands on either side of your head, leaning in close, her breath warm against your cheek. "You don’t have to pretend, you know." she murmured, her lips brushing lightly against your ear. "I can see that you’re nervous."

Your breath caught in your throat, your heart racing as Natasha's words sank in. You had been so sure that this was just a game, a bit of harmless flirting that would never go anywhere. But now, with Natasha so close, the reality of the situation was impossible to ignore. "I saw how you looked at me tonight." Natasha continued, her voice rough with intent. "Did you think I wouldn’t notice? That I wouldn’t feel the same way?"

You swallowed hard, your mouth dry as you struggled to find your voice. "I..I didn’t know if you..if you wanted this too.."

Natasha’s eyes darkened, her gaze intensifying as she leaned in even closer, her lips almost brushing against yours. "I want you, but I need to hear it from you. Tell me you want this too."

Your head was spinning, your body trembling with a mix of fear and anticipation. You had never imagined Natasha would be so bold, so direct. But the truth was, you had wanted this, wanted her..for longer than you cared to admit.

"I..I want this." you finally whispered, your voice shaking but filled with determination. "I want you, Natasha."

A slow, predatory smile spread across Natasha's lips at your confession, and she pressed her body against yours, feeling the warmth of your skin through the towel. "Good girl." she whispered, her voice dripping with approval.

Natasha didn’t waste another second. She captured your lips in a passionate kiss, one that held all the pent-up desire and frustration she had been holding back for so long. You responded eagerly, your hands clutching at Natasha’s, pulling her closer as if you were afraid she might disappear if you let go.

The kiss deepened, and Natasha's hands roamed over your body, feeling you shiver under her touch. She relished the power she had over you, enjoyed making you admit your desires, and now she would make sure you understood exactly what it meant to be wanted by her.

When you finally pulled apart, both of you were breathing heavily, your eyes locking in a silent understanding of what was about to happen. "You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this." Natasha whispered, her hand sliding down your side, teasing the edge of your towel. "But now that I have you, I won’t be able to hold back."

You shuddered at her words, your eyes widening with a mix of excitement and nervousness. You knew that this night would change everything, but as you looked into Natasha’s eyes, you realized that you didn’t care. This was what you wanted, what you both wanted.

You could barely breathe as Natasha’s lips found yours again, the sensation overwhelming your senses. It was like you were floating, caught between reality and a dream, unable to fully grasp that this was really happening. You had fantasized about Natasha for so long, but you had never believed that your desires would be returned, that Natasha would want you just as much, if not more.

Natasha, on the other hand, was fully aware of every moment, every breath, every tremble that ran through your body. She relished how you shivered under her touch, the soft sighs that escaped your lips as her hands glided over your skin. It had been so long since Natasha had allowed herself to feel this way since she had allowed herself to truly desire someone, and now, with you in her hands, she wanted to take her time. She wanted to savor every moment, to show you how much you were cherished.

Natasha’s hands moved slowly, almost reverently, as she loosened the towel from your body and let it gently fall to the floor. You gasped as the cool air touched your bare skin, but Natasha quickly warmed you again with soft, teasing caresses, her fingers tracing along your sides, over your hips, and across your stomach. Natasha could feel the goosebumps under her fingertips, and it made her smile against your lips, knowing she was the cause of such a reaction.

You couldn’t believe this was really happening, that Natasha was touching you, kissing you, making you feel things you had only ever dreamed of. Natasha sensed your hesitation, your disbelief that this was real. She wanted to push you further, to make you fully embrace the moment, to understand how deep her desire for you was. She wanted to hear it from your own lips, what you wanted, what you needed.

Natasha pulled back just enough to look into your eyes, her hand still resting on your hip. “You’re trembling.” Natasha murmured, her voice low and laced with a dangerous sweetness. “Are you scared? Or is it something else?”

Your breath hitched, your heart racing as you gazed into Natasha’s intense green eyes. You were trembling, but not out of fear, no, this was something entirely different. Something that made you feel like you were standing on the edge of a precipice, ready to dive into the unknown.

“I’m not scared..” you whispered, your voice shaking but resolute. “Good." Natasha whispered back, her lips brushing against your ear. “Good, because I don’t want you to be afraid. I want you to tell me what you want. I need to hear it from you.”

Your mind was a whirlwind of desire and need, but you struggled to find the right words. It was so much, too much, and yet not enough. “I want you, Natasha. I need you..” you finally managed, your voice trembling with longing.

A triumphant smile appeared on Natasha’s lips, and her hand slid downward to touch you between your thighs. You gasped, your hips instinctively moving toward her touch, your body craving more.

“I know you want it.” Natasha purred, her fingers gently teasing your most sensitive spot with slow, deliberate movements. “But that’s not what I asked. I want you to tell me what you want me to do to you. Tell me, Y/n. Tell me exactly what you need.”

Your face flushed with heat, the combination of embarrassment and arousal almost unbearable. But the way Natasha looked at you, the way she touched you, made it impossible to hold back. You wanted this. Wanted Natasha and if that meant giving yourself to her completely, then you would.

“I want you to..to touch me.” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “Please, Natasha..touch me more.” Natasha’s smile deepened, her eyes glinting with a predatory gleam as she leaned in closer, her lips barely brushing against yours. “Good girl.” she whispered, her voice dripping with approval. “I’m going to touch you. I’m going to give you exactly what you want.”

With those words, Natasha moved her hand more purposefully, her fingers sliding between your folds, finding the wetness that made your heart race. Your breath came in short, sharp gasps, your body responding to every movement, every touch, as if Natasha’s hands were made of pure electricity.

Natasha’s pace was slow, agonizingly slow, her fingers exploring every inch of your body with deliberate care. She wanted to take her time, to push your pleasure to the very edge until you were begging for more. She wanted you to feel completely and utterly at her mercy.

“Does that feel good, Y/n?” Natasha whispered, her breath warm against your neck as she kissed along your collarbones. “Do you like it when I touch you like this?”

“Y-Yes..” you gasped, your hands clutching at Natasha’s shoulders, desperately searching for something to hold onto. “It feels so good..please, don’t stop..”

Natasha chuckled softly, the sound sending a shiver down your spine. “I’m not going to stop, Detka. Not until I make you feel everything you’ve ever dreamed of.” She increased the pressure, her fingers moving now with more determination, teasing and stroking in a way that made your legs tremble. Your body responded instinctively, your hips rocking in time with Natasha’s movements, your breath coming in short, desperate gasps.

Natasha watched you with a mix of adoration and lust, enjoying the power she had over you, the way she could bring you to the brink with just a few well-placed touches. She could see that you were close, your body tensing, your breath quickening, but Natasha wasn’t done with you yet. She wanted to push you further, to make you beg for release.

“Are you close?” Natasha whispered, her voice dark and commanding. “Do you want to come for me?” You could barely think, your mind a haze of overwhelming pleasure. “Yes!” you gasped, your voice breaking. “Please, Natasha…let me come..!”

Natasha’s smile was sinful as she leaned in closer, her lips brushing lightly against your ear. “Not yet.. You’ll come when I say so, okay?”

You whimpered, your body trembling with the effort of holding back, teetering on the edge of climax without being able to let go. But Natasha didn’t relent, her fingers continuing their precise, skilled movements, keeping you right on the brink of ecstasy.

“Please, Natasha!” you pleaded, your voice quivering with desperation. “Please..I can’t..I need.."

“Shh.." Natasha whispered, her voice softening just a little. “I know, baby. I know what you need. But I want you to say it again. Tell me exactly what you want.”

Your mind was spinning, the need almost unbearable. You were completely at Natasha’s mercy, and that realization only made your desire burn hotter. “I want you to let me come, Natasha, please, please!”

Natasha’s eyes gleamed with satisfaction, and she finally gave you what you had been begging for, her fingers moving faster, more decisively, pushing you right over the edge. “That’s it, Y/n.” Natasha murmured, her voice thick with desire. “Come for me. Now.”

With Natasha’s permission, you finally let go, your body convulsing as waves of pleasure crashed over you, more intense than anything you had ever felt before. You cried out, your mind going completely blank as you surrendered to the overwhelming sensation, your body shaking with the force of your orgasm. She held you tightly, her fingers still moving, drawing every last bit of pleasure from your trembling body. She whispered soft, soothing words in your ear, her hand gently stroking your back as you came down from your high.

You slumped against the wall, your body exhausted, your breath coming in ragged gasps. You could hardly believe what had just happened, how intense it had been, how Natasha had made you feel things you had never imagined. You thought it was over, that this was the end, like in the movies..But then Natasha’s voice cut through the haze, deep and commanding. “I’m not done with you yet.”

Your eyes widened, your heart skipping a beat as you realized that Natasha was still there, still holding you, still touching you. “But..” you stammered, your voice weak. “I thought..”

“You thought that was it?” Natasha’s smile was dark, almost devilish. “Oh no, Detka. I haven’t come yet. And I’m not going to stop until I make you feel everything again.” Your eyes widened, a mix of excitement and nervousness flooding your senses. You could feel Natasha’s fingers beginning to move again, this time with more urgency, more determination. The realization that Natasha wasn’t done with you yet, that this was just the beginning, sent a fresh wave of arousal through your already sensitive body.

Natasha watched your reaction closely, her eyes glinting with satisfaction. She wanted to push you further, to see how much you could take, how many times she could make you break in her arms. Natasha’s other hand slid up to your neck, applying just the slightest pressure as she tilted your head back so that you could look into her eyes.

"This," Natasha said softly, her voice a whisper as she guided your hand between you. Your eyes widened as you felt it. Hard, throbbing, and undeniably real. Natasha was already rock hard, her erection pressing demandingly against her jeans, and the realization hit you like a wave.

You had fantasized about Natasha, but nothing could have prepared you for the reality. Natasha didn’t just want to touch you.. no she wanted to take you in a way you had never experienced before.

Your eyes flickered back to Natasha's face, filled with a mix of awe and nervous anticipation. "I..I've never.." you began, but your words faltered. Natasha's expression softened, and she raised her hand to gently cup your face. "I’ll be gentle. I want you to feel every moment of this. If you want to stop at any point, just tell me."

You nodded, your heart pounding in your chest. You had always imagined what this moment might be like, but now that it was here, it was both terrifying and thrilling. The way Natasha looked at you, the way she touched you, made you feel like you were the only person in the world that mattered. And you wanted that, you wanted Natasha to be the one to show you how it could be.

She kissed you gently, tenderly, as she began to unbutton her jeans, her hands steady despite the electric tension that vibrated through her body. You watched as she pushed her jeans and boxers just far enough down to release her erection. Your eyes widened at the sight. "It's okay, Y/n." Natasha whispered reassuringly, her voice gentle as she guided your hand to her, letting you feel her warmth and weight. "We’ll take it slow."

Your fingers closed around Natasha's shaft, the reality of the feeling grounding you in the moment. You marveled at how it felt, how Natasha’s breath hitched slightly as you touched her. It was real, tangible, and you could feel your own arousal rising even more at the thought of what was about to happen.

Natasha watched you, making sure you were comfortable before moving forward. She could see the awe in your eyes, how your breathing quickened, and it only fueled Natasha’s desire further. Gently, she lifted your leg, hooking it around her hip as she positioned herself at your entrance. "Just breathe, baby." Natasha whispered, her voice full of encouragement as she pressed her forehead against yours. "I’ve got you."

You nodded, your heart racing as you felt the pressure of Natasha’s erection at your entrance. Natasha moved slowly, carefully, giving you time to adjust as she began to enter you. You gasped, your fingers digging into Natasha’s shoulders as you felt the pressure, the stretch, the fullness as Natasha entered you for the first time. "It’s okay." Natasha repeated, her voice thick with emotion as she kissed your neck, her hands gently guiding your hips to lead you carefully. "You’re doing so well. Just be a good girl and let me in."

Your breath came in short, sharp gasps as Natasha continued to slide into you, your body adjusting to the new sensation. It was intense, almost overwhelming, but there was also something incredibly intimate about it..something that made you feel more connected to Natasha than you had ever felt with anyone before.

When Natasha was fully inside you, she paused, giving you a moment to breathe, to adjust, to feel how perfectly you fit together. "You’re so tight.." Natasha whispered, her voice a mix of awe and desire. "So perfect." You could hardly believe this was real, that Natasha was inside you, filling you, making you feel things you had never imagined.

Natasha noticed the change, a wicked smile playing on her lips as she felt your body begin to respond. "That’s it." Natasha murmured, her voice dark with satisfaction. "You’re starting to feel it, aren’t you?"

Her hands gripped your hips tightly as she began to move, slowly at first, savoring every moment of how your body reacted to each of her thrusts. Your eyes closed, your head fell back against the wall as the pleasure began to build in you again, this time even more intense. Natasha’s movements were slow, deliberate, each thrust sending a wave of pleasure through your body, lifting you higher and higher.

"Look at me." Natasha whispered, "I want to see you, Y/n. I want to watch you break." Your eyes snapped open, meeting Natasha’s gaze. The intensity in her eyes, the way she looked at you with such passion and adoration, took your breath away. You had never felt so vulnerable, so exposed, but at the same time, so cherished. It was overwhelming, but in the best possible way.

Natasha’s pace increased slightly, her thrusts becoming more demanding, insistent. She could feel your body trembling beneath her, your breath coming in ragged gasps and it only drove Natasha’s desire further. "Tell me how it feels." Natasha whispered, her lips brushing your ear as she thrust deeper. "I want to hear it from you."

"It f-feels..incredible.." you gasped, your voice trembling with emotion. "I never..I never thought it could feel like t-this.."

Natasha smiled, her heart swelling with pride and affection. "That’s my girl " she murmured, her voice full of appreciation. "I’m going to make you feel even better.."

You moaned as Natasha’s thrusts became more powerful, more focused, each one bringing you closer to the edge. You could feel the pleasure building in you again, more intense than before, and you knew you were close, so incredibly close.

Natasha felt it too, and she didn’t let up, her hips driving forward with precision, her grip on your hips tightening as she pushed you both higher. "That’s it, Y/n.." Natasha growled, "Come for me. I want to feel you come around my cock."

Your whole body tensed, the pleasure reaching a peak as Natasha’s words pushed you over the edge. With one last, desperate cry, you came, your body clenching around Natasha’s cock, the intensity of the orgasm making you see stars.

But Natasha wasn’t finished yet. She kept moving, giving you no time to recover, driving you through the aftershocks straight into another wave of pleasure. "Oh, no." Natasha whispered, her voice dark and teasing as she leaned in to capture your lips in a heated kiss. "I’m not done with you yet, baby. You’re going to come for me again."

You whimpered, your body trembling under the overwhelming sensations coursing through you. You had never experienced anything like this, had never thought your body could take so much, could feel so much pleasure. But Natasha gave you no choice, and the thought of being pushed even further sent a thrill of excitement through you.

Natasha’s thrusts became more faster, more relentless as she chased her own climax, but she never lost focus on you, never stopped driving you closer and closer to the edge. She wanted to feel you break beneath her, wanted to push you to another peak, to show you how much you were truly capable of feeling.

"N-Natasha..please..." you gasped, your voice trembling with desperation. "I can’t...it’s too much.."

"You can." Natasha whispered, "You can take it. You’re going to come for me again, okay? I want you to milk my cock..f-fuck.."

Natasha could feel her own control slipping, the tight heat of your body driving her closer and closer to the edge. "Look at me." Natasha ordered, her voice sharp as she slowed her thrusts just enough to draw out the moment. "I want to see your face when you come for me one last time."

You forced your eyes open, meeting Natasha’s intense gaze. The intensity in her eyes was almost too much to bear, but you couldn’t look away. You were lost in the storm of Natasha’s desire, your body trembling uncontrollably as you balanced on the edge of another climax. Your whimper sent a shock of satisfaction through Natasha, and she finally let herself go. Her thrusts became faster, more erratic, as she chased her own release, her grip on your hips tightening as she drove you both to the brink.

"I’m going to fill you up.." Natasha growled, her voice rough with impending relief. You could only moan in response, your body so overstimulated that you didn’t think you could survive another orgasm. But Natasha gave you no choice. With one final, brutal thrust, Natasha buried herself deep inside you and let out a deep, guttural groan as she came, her cock pulsing as she filled you with her release.

The sensation of Natasha coming inside you, combined with the intensity of her voice, sent you into another orgasm, your whole body convulsing under the force of it. You screamed Natasha’s name, your voice hoarse and broken as you were completely consumed by pleasure, your body trembling uncontrollably.

Natasha held you tightly, her body still trembling from the intensity of her climax. She continued to move slowly, gently rocking her hips to prolong the sensation, even as your body finally began to relax, your muscles still twitching from the aftershocks of such intense pleasure.

When it was finally over, Natasha leaned forward and kissed you gently, her lips tender against your trembling ones. “God, you were wonderful..” Natasha murmured, her voice softening as she stroked your cheek. “I’m so proud of you.”

You could barely respond, your body completely exhausted, but there was a deep sense of satisfaction in your heart.

Natasha carefully withdrew from you, making sure you were comfortable as she released you from the wall. She gently guided you to the bed, your legs feeling weak as you sank onto the soft sheets. You were utterly spent, your body still trembling slightly from the aftermath of the intense experience.

Natasha lay down beside you, gently pulling you into her arms and holding you tightly against her. Your forehead rested on her chest, and you could hear the steady beat of her heart, giving you a sense of safety and comfort.

“Rest, okay?” Natasha whispered softly, her fingers soothingly running through your hair. “I’m here with you.” You nodded weakly, unable to put into words the flood of emotions rising within you. Your body was utterly exhausted, but it was a pleasant fatigue, a deep satisfaction spreading through you.

As you relaxed in Natasha’s arms, you began to slowly drift into sleep, secure in the knowledge that you were safe with her. Natasha continued to hold you close, her touch tender and comforting. She pressed gentle kisses to your forehead as your breathing slowly calmed, and you let yourself sink deeper into the comforting warmth of her embrace.

“I’m so glad you trusted me..” Natasha whispered quietly, almost more to herself than to you, her voice full of affection. “I’ll always take care of you, Y/n.”

With those words, you finally allowed yourself to fully surrender to sleep, wrapped in the secure feeling that you would always be protected and loved in Natasha’s arms. As you fell asleep, the last thing you felt was the gentle embrace and the steady, reassuring beat of her heart beneath your ear. A moment of peace and security that you would keep in your heart forever.

[chloe6994]

Arcane Headcanons: Mel, Jinx, Vi, and Caitlyn Bandaging a Hurt Reader

Mel Medarda

Calm and Composed: When Mel finds you hurt, her face remains calm, but her golden eyes flash with worry. She doesn’t panic; instead, she swiftly gathers supplies, taking charge with her usual elegance.

Gentle Touch: She kneels beside you, her hands steady as she carefully cleans your wounds. Her touch is feather-light, ensuring she doesn’t hurt you more than necessary.

Reassuring Words: Mel speaks softly, her voice soothing as she reassures you. “You’re stronger than this wound, my love. Just hold on for me.” Her words feel like a warm embrace, steadying you.

Attention to Detail: Every movement is precise. She ties bandages with neat, perfect knots, making sure nothing is left untreated.

Comfort Aftercare: Once she’s finished, she pulls you close, draping a luxurious blanket over you both as she strokes your hair. She pours you a glass of water or wine and sits with you until you fall asleep, her presence unwavering.

Jinx

Panicked and Guilt-Ridden: Seeing you hurt sends Jinx spiraling into panic at first. She stares at the blood on your skin, her hands trembling as flashes of her past haunt her. “I didn’t… I didn’t mean to let this happen!”

Frantic But Determined: Despite her anxiety, she grabs her makeshift medical kit (which probably has questionable supplies like duct tape and loose bandages). Her hands shake as she starts cleaning your wounds, muttering to herself about how she’ll “fix you.”

Protective Rambling: Jinx talks a mile a minute while she works. “Next time, we’re strapping you in full armor! Or bubble wrap! Yeah, bubble wrap! You’re not leaving my side again!” It’s her way of coping and trying to distract you from the pain.

Messy But Effective: The bandaging process might be chaotic—she ties the bandages a little too tightly or uses too much tape—but it’s full of love and determination. She won’t stop until she’s sure you’re safe.

Endearing Snuggles: Afterward, Jinx collapses beside you, clinging to you like a lifeline. She refuses to leave your side, even if she’s still buzzing with nervous energy. “Don’t you dare scare me like that again, okay? Promise?”

Vi

Focused and Protective: When Vi sees you hurt, her heart skips a beat, but she immediately goes into action. “Alright, sit tight. I’ve got you.” She carries you to a safe spot if needed, her grip firm but careful.

Skilled Hands: Growing up in the Lanes, Vi knows how to handle injuries. She cleans your wounds quickly but thoroughly, her hands practiced and efficient. “This’ll sting a bit. Hang in there, babe.”

Fierce Reassurance: She keeps talking to you the entire time, her voice steady and grounding. “You’re tougher than this. Just a scratch, yeah? You’re gonna be fine.”

Soft Side Shows: Despite her tough exterior, Vi’s hands soften when she ties the bandages, making sure they’re secure but not uncomfortable. She presses a kiss to your forehead once she’s done.

Protective Vow: After you’re patched up, she keeps an arm around you, her jaw clenched with determination. “No one’s laying a finger on you again. I’ll make damn sure of it.”

Caitlyn

Efficient and Professional: Years of training in the Enforcers have made Caitlyn incredibly skilled at first aid. The moment she sees you hurt, she moves quickly, her expression calm but her eyes filled with concern. “Let me take care of this.”

Tender Care: Caitlyn’s movements are precise yet gentle as she cleans and dresses your wounds. She talks to you softly, her accent making her reassurances even more comforting. “You’re doing so well, darling. Almost there.”

Problem Solver: She keeps the atmosphere light, offering logical solutions to distract you. “After this, we’re investing in better protection for you. Perhaps a personal shield? Or maybe I’ll just keep you in the precinct with me.”

Personal Touch: Once she’s done, Caitlyn makes you tea and insists you rest. She’ll sit beside you, her hand resting on yours, ensuring you feel safe. “You don’t have to be brave alone, you know. I’m here.”

Steadfast Companion: She checks your bandages regularly and doesn’t leave your side until she’s certain you’re recovering. If she’s working, she’ll send you frequent messages to make sure you’re okay.

Each of them brings their unique personality to the task, showing their love for you in their own way.

[princesssmars]

making abby squirt with the nails she just paid for…nsfw.

you had seen the cutest nail set one of your friends got on her instant story, and after complimenting her and getting the techs account you couldn’t stop your eyes from widening a little at the prices.

but you only get time to pout about it for a few minutes before abby is prodding you about what’s wrong, scoffing at your complaint about the expensive service and telling you that she’ll ’handle it’.

you almost thought she was kidding until she urged you to book the appointment, even driving you to the location and putting the cash in your hand with a kiss.

so what better way to admire your new nails and repay the favor to abby then to make her go crazy with pleasure beneath you?

well, technically in front of you, trapped between your legs as the both of you face your floor length mirror. convincing her to not only completely bottom for a night but to also use a mirror was a challenge, but with some pleading and batted eyelashes she gave in.

it’s funny to think about, how she tried to be so tough and act like she she didn’t want to be on the bottom like she wasn’t currently moaning and twitching like her life depended on it. you bring up a hand that was grasping her large thigh up to her breast, lightly pinching her left nipple and giggling at the broken sob that leaves her lips.

“please, please, ‘s too much.” her begging is raspy, throat strained by the constant use of her voice. her hands are tied up behind her back and you can feel her trying to free them by the jabbing of her shoulders into yours.

“aww, poor baby.” you coo, pressing sweet kisses to the side of her cheek and neck, heart warming when she pushes her head back onto your shoulder for more affection.

“you’ve only had three, and you always give me at least five. what’s wrong, can dish it but can’t take it?”

she lets out a groan as you simultaneously bite her neck while moving your right hand back down to her pussy, not bothering with teasing her further and instantly going to rub over her clit until she’s the one biting into your neck, hips jerking and mumbling words you can’t make out other than that she’s so close, she’s so god damn close-

you have to bite your lip to keep from squealing as a steady stream of liquid ejects from her, squirting onto the sheets, the floor, even the fucking mirror, giving you the perfect view of the sight of her cumming with your hand still rubbing between her legs, too weak to close her legs to stop you.

all too soon her body calms down, sweaty heap of muscles resting into your chest as her chest rises and falls while she tries to catch her breath. her eyes are closed while she tries to bring herself back, only opening when she hears the telltale sign of you sucking your fingers, hoping it doesn’t show on her face that the heat is already growing again between her thighs.

“can i pay for your nails every time if you do this?”

“of course you can, baby.”

“great. really great. geez, what’ll happen if i pay for your hair appointment next?”

“i’m getting you pregnant, is what.”

“wait, what?”

sorry i thought the ending was funny. idk why i’m writing so much bottom abby am i giving fake pillow princess. ok bye.

[san8ny]

BETTER NOT TO SAY IT !

!: It’s cold and you’re two people. The rational thing to do is to cuddle..duh!

?: Ellie Williams x Fem!Reader - Fluff - Idiots that are borderline in-love with eachother trope.

“And you’re sure this will conserve body-heat?”

“Yep!”

Ellie sighs as she allows you to wrap your limbs around her battered up torso, both of you laid sprawled on the wooden floor of some abandoned cabin you happened to stumble upon while being chased by infected.

Silence consumes you two, the only thing heard being your slow and delayed breaths, likely so from the exhaustion of today’s events. “You’re warm.”

she chuckles at that, looking down at you. “I’m warm? I’m practically ice.”

You smile at the lighthearted remark, closing your eyes to sleep. While doing so, Ellie slightly tilts her head downwards, studying your face. It’s not the first time she’s seen you in this light, you emulate more of something to fight for than to fight with, still remembering how you were when you first arrived to Jackson. Sometimes, she gets slightly ticked off from your willingness to put trust in others so quickly, a trait she’d long abandoned during childhood. Could you blame her? However, she admires it too. It’s not everyday she has the prettiest of girls clinging to her side like she’s everything in the world all in one. Maybe it’s a twinge of a white-knight complex? That Ellie wants you to want her too. She wants you to need her.

Meanwhile, you lay there relaxed, the once cold night seemingly growing warmer as you press yourself more and more into Ellie, who doesn’t seem to deny you anything. You flutter your eyes a bit open to check if she’s also asleep, small smile stretching across your lips when you see she’s dozed off. You take note of every nook and cranny on her face, the slightest of bruisings on her nose bridge from some punches she took earlier, or the elongated faded scar stretching across her cheek. It takes everything in you not to, but you sweep a padded thumb lightly over it, light peachfuzz on her face oddly comforting when your digits come in contact with her fleshy cheek. You envied Ellie, you really did, but you also didn’t know if you’d want to be like her, or rather be with her. She was an anomaly you oh-so wanted to be around, but also rid yourself of. The thought of ever being away from her made you sick to your stomach and the thought alone scares you. She has you unknowingly wrapped around her finger.

The next morning, Ellie chooses between waking you up to fetch firewood or going herself. Peering down at where you lay, her bloodied sweater wrapped around you in slumber— she opts for the ladder. The morning sun feels nice on her skin as she opens the creaky door, checking back once more to see if you’re put. Once so, she leaves, shutting it behind her softly as she trudges out into the woods with the rusted axe she found on the patio slab.

Humorously, she returns back to the cabin with you still in what seems like a deep-sleep. Hell, she even kneels before you at one point to check your pulse if your snores weren’t a dead giveaway. Once she starts an amateur flame in the fireplace, she just returns to lay with you on the cold ground. She scoots closer to you, faces parallel to eachother as her gaze moves from your upper facial features to now, lower. Even in the worst of conditions, your lips somehow were the ones she sees herself only wanting to lock with. It feels perverse in nature to do this, and she definitely won’t do anything. She’d want you to be awake if she ever does kiss you, but she chooses to inspect your face closer— likely the closest she’ll ever get to be if she doesn’t man up.

You slowly open your eyes after some tossing and turning, yours now locked on Ellie’s.

It feels like pure white, is what you’d both say. It feels perfect— too perfect, infact.

“What’re you thinking about?” You whisper, eyes still heavily hooded with sleep, “Whatever you’re thinking about.” She whispers back, gently tucking stands of your hair back into that tattered hoodie of hers you adorn.