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steventhusiast · 10 months

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modern au where eddie and robin are roommates and steve is italian <3

eddie has always known that his roommate robin is in the US for college, but grew up in and is from italy. sure, sometimes he forgets, because she somehow has a near-perfect american accent and also speaks two other languages, but he’s always known.

and for the past year and a bit, he’s known how much robin wants her best friend stevie to come visit. she talks about them all the time, and ever since she and eddie moved out of the dorms and into an apartment together for their next year of university a month ago, he’s known stevie is going to come and visit.

he just kind of forgot the exact day stevie would be arriving.

so when he, clad in nothing but his garfield pyjama pants and a metallica t-shirt that’s falling apart, walks into the kitchen one morning and sees someone he doesn’t know at the kitchen counter fiddling with their instant coffee machine, he almost shits himself.

luckily, he doesn’t, because he remembers in that split second that stevie was due to arrive last night. but he still flinches pretty hard at the fright and grabs for the nearest grabbable thing, which turns out to be the doorframe. somehow, he makes a noise loud enough to get the mystery person’s attention, and they turn around.

holy shit. eddie did not know stevie is hot. or that stevie’s actually a guy. he kind of just assumed, with the nickname and all? but the man standing there looks like he could’ve been carved by the gods eddie doesn’t believe in, and- eddie realises he’s been staring at the guy for a few seconds now, and decides to talk like a normal human being. he first adjusts his position so he’s no longer holding onto the archway of the kitchen for support, and smiles at the guy.

“hi, you must be stevie?” he offers, and stevie takes a few seconds to process his words before nodding with a smile.

“my name is steve. robbie just is… hm, silly?”

eddie blinks a couple times, because steve has an accent. a thick one. he should’ve expected that, because- hello? they’re both literally from italy. but it catches him off guard, and adds to steve’s hot factor. why didn’t robin warn him about this.

“yeah, robin is very silly.” he agrees with a chuckle, and then realises steve might not know him, “i’m eddie. robin’s roommate. you probably knew that already though, so now i probably look like an idiot. well- more of an idiot than i already do in these clothes…”

he lets his words trail off as he realises steve is frowning at him in subtle confusion. he’s picked up robin’s rambling-when-nervous habit over their friendship, and hot guys tend to make him pretty nervous. but then he realises maybe steve isn’t as fluent in english as robin is, and even if he is eddie’s a fast talker that doesn’t always pronounce things fully.

“i am sorry,” steve looks embarrassed, “my english is not as good as robin.”

eddie feels so guilty at the pink that’s made itself known on steve’s cheeks, and shakes his head immediately.

“no! you don’t need to be sorry. i just talk a lot when i’m nervous.” he confesses. why did he say that? now steve knows he’s nervous. or does he? maybe he didn’t catch his full sentence.

steve raises one eyebrow at eddie though, and one side of his mouth quirks up into a smile as he turns around to keep trying to make himself a cup of coffee.

“i am making you nervous? why?” steve asks, his back still turned. now eddie’s the one with red cheeks. dammit.

“it’s because eddie here thinks you’re hot, stevie.”

eddie’s flinch at robin’s magical appearance behind him is somehow more spectacular than earlier, and he clutches dramatically at his heart and spins around to glare at robin.

“robin! what the fuck, man!” he yelps when he realises what she’s said. but robin isn’t listening, she’s too busy speaking to steve in italian about who knows what.

probably about how she knows all eddie’s tells for when he finds a guy attractive and how she knows eddie’s type and steve checks every single box. or, eddie squints at the pair as robin tsks at steve and takes over manning the coffee machine, maybe robin’s just telling steve how to make a coffee with the machine?

“you think i am…” steve starts as he spins around to look at eddie, and seems to be searching for a word for a few moments, “attractive?”

eddie’s eyes widen, and then he sighs and fixes a glare on robin. robin just shrugs and makes a very insincere ‘oopsie’ expression, and eddie is about to start denying like his life depends on it, but he looks back at steve.

and steve has that blush back on his face, and a tiny smile, and he’s looking eddie up and down even in his ridiculous outfit.

“um, yes.” eddie practically squeaks, not used to having someone’s eyes on him like this.

steve says something to robin in italian that sounds like it ends with a question mark, and robin rolls her eyes.

“steve wants me to translate a pick up line he wants to use on you, but i literally refuse to do that. google translate is free.”

and with that, she leaves the kitchen.

#steddie #italian steve harrington #steddie drabble #steddie ficlet #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #st #mywriting #robin buckley #steve is so smooth in italian and so not smooth in english #he just lacks confidence #eddie doesnt believe him #thank you to the person who explained how tumblr tagging system works <3

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slutforalastor · 18 days

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you never thought this day might come, sat down with the Radio Demon's head in your lap, his gaze lazy and half-lidded as he allows you, generously, so generously, to touch the pronged antlers that extend from the top of his head. His lips pass soft white noise as you run a finger from the base to the tip of his antlers, the vibration that you can feel beneath the hard exterior somewhere between the hum of a domestic appliance and the throb, throb, throb of a heartbeat

You can feel Alastor's shoulders tense up whenever you put too much pressure on them, his calm breathing briefly interrupted every time you push his sensitivity past his tolerance. Each time you find yourself being too exploratory, you correct yourself back to the safety of gentle strokes, letting your fingertips soak in the unique texture. They are somewhere between the firm smoothness of exposed bone, like his teeth when they drag across the topmost layer of your skin, leaving perfect streaks too shallow to bleed, too pronounced to refute their creator, and the spongy give of delicate flesh. You know the trust he's imparted to you to be given this kind of access; not only does he so limit incoming touch, but resents any reminder of his reincarnation as a prey animal.

"I'm surprised you're okay with this," you murmur to him, so unwilling to compromise the sanctity of this moment.

"Only because it is you," Alastor assures you, his tone just as hushed.

You continue, relishing in this opportunity. You explore every hook and divot of the black extensions, marveling at the current of demonic energy that pulses through them. It was your impression that they only grew when Alastor was angry, but not quite: any overwhelming passion, be it joy, theoretically speaking, or fear, or sadness, and they will billow out. You wonder if you can elicit such a response. Your opening gambit is strong: you lean into his ear, whispering "If anyone else were to do this, you'd tear them apart, wouldn't you?"

"For even less than this, dearest. I'd assumed that was obvious."

"But not me?"

"But not you."

"Maybe I want you to tear me apart, love."

The first sign; you feel a shift through the skeletal system they're connected to, a tremor of recognition, of sudden awoken desire.

"I'm sure you just aren't aware of what you're asking for."

"No, I'm all too aware. You want something deeper, too, don't you? It can't be enough just to meet in such a temporary union, only to separate. I want you to bring a little piece of me along with you, knowing you've claimed more than just one part of me, but any you desire."

He shudders, deeper this time, and you feel growth. Sharp edges and deeper curves sprout like curling ivy where there had once been certain ends, like a blossoming tree bursting into life. Your loving strokes down the length of his antlers grow deeper, more pronounced, almost incessant.

"What game are you playing at?" Alastor pants, his breathing hitching every time you push against them with any kind of firmness.

"I love seeing what you do."

His body has seized, but doesn't do anything else. You can feel the efforts of the sinew across his back against your lap. Best of all are his facial expressions; his initial contentment has evolved, firstly into surprised, the edges of his bladed grin peeking out from his thin lips, his eyes squinted and playful. Now it's become a look of desire, his mouth open slightly, droning a steady song with no melody but a captivating refrain, nonetheless. His eyes plead with you; so uncharacteristic, for him to be putty in your hands. To think you could hold the high ground in any situation, much less as a result of this.

"Don't toy with me," he warns, but his voice doesn't sound assured. It sounds needy, like a request for more.

"I would never, love."

"Then end this teasing," he begs.

You do as he asks, taking your hands away from his antlers. With some strain, he manages to get his breathing back under control, his antlers receding like the retreating tide, back to their typical size. "Did you enjoy yourself?" you wonder, after he's calmed himself.

He looks at you with mischief etched in his features. "Not as much as I'm sure I will soon enough." ~~~

#alastor hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel #the radio demon #alastor x reader #alastor x you #antlerplay

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zhongrin · 8 months

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“honey, can you… put it in my mouth?”

◇ characters ◇ zhongli, al haitham, kaveh, pantalone, ayato

◇ tags ◇ minors dni, gn!reader, very suggestive but nothing explicit believe it or not, oral fixation (reader), implied spanking (pantalone)

◇ a/n ◇ ough i finally have the energy to edit this..... why do i feel so tired from just editing send help i need kithes ;w;

𝑠𝑒𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑠 𝑚𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡 ⬙ 𝑚𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡 ⬙ 𝑡𝑎𝑔𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡

zhongli looks up at you in confusion, before looking at what he is holding. surely you didn’t mean you want to have these bitter coffee grounds in your mouth? he smiles kindly at you and resumes tamping the coffee grounds, the veins on the back of his palms prominent as ever ever against his blackened skin, before locking the portafilter onto the machine and placing two espresso glasses under it.

“dear, as much as you need your coffee, i think we need to process this specific ingredient first before you can fully enjoy the beverage-”

he blinks slowly at you, the hum of the espresso machine the only noise for a moment following your clarification… until the corners of his lips turn upwards in a little smirk, and he chuckles onto his bare fist, the geo lines shining brightly with mirth before reaching out to trace your lips.

“sometimes i wonder if i've spoiled you too much… very well, perhaps after your coffee, you can have a… not-so-little treat. or should i say, treats.”

al haitham’s answer is, as per usual, logical and straightforward.

“absolutely not. this is one of my most prized limited collection books. that would be unhygienic, both for you and the book itself.”

his verdant green eyes lined with orange-hued lines switch focus onto your expression, narrowing upon seeing no remorse in your face. he’s about ready to scold you more when the next words leave your lips, and for a moment he’s distracted by how delectable they look as they spill sinful words and pronounce your chosen nickname for him.

“… you could have clarified that sooner,” he says, still in that monotonous tone, though you can see how his gaze burns hotter now and the visible excitement starting to make itself known. one of his gloved hands beckons you closer and grabs onto your wrist to pull you onto his lap.

“well, what are you waiting for, then?” his book snaps shut and he smirks at you in anticipation, “go on. put it all in your mouth. well… as much as you can, that is.”

kaveh beams and skilfully opens a lychee for you, ignoring the way the juices drip all over his slender fingers, and offers the sweet fruit to you immediately, urging you to taste the deliciousness. when you merely stare at him in amusement, your boyfriend tilts his head, his smile unfaltering as he pushes the fruit nearer to your lips.

“they’re really sweet! if you like it, i’ll feed you more!”

the architect’s grin widens when you take the fruit between your lips, although he blushes at the way your tongue brushes onto the calloused skin of his fingers. he tries to tell himself that it was just a coincidence, but five more lychees later, he’s convinced that you had to have done this on purpose. and when you tell him you’re full and you want something else in between those sweet lips of yours… well, he’s already a people pleaser by nature anyway - and there’s no one he wants to please most other than you.

pantalone’s gloved fingers fix his glasses before motioning for you to follow him a little down the hallway toward the adjacent room. moments after the door slams close behind you, he signals you to kneel - and the condescending chuckle when you obey like a trained dog in front of him makes your cheeks burn in embarrassment.

he folds his arms in front of his chest, smiling down at you, “i’m going to need you to explain further what you meant by that vague statement, dear.”

the more you stumble over your words, the wider your master’s smirk grows. golden eyes peer down at you in half amusement and half anticipation. he shakes his head when you finish, his next words cooing and belittling as if he’s scolding a misbehaving child, “oh my, darling, how can those lovely lips spew such filthy words?”

the seemingly condescending words are followed by a hum, though you sense no underlying malice or sarcasm in his tone. no, this was him playing with you - if anything, he seems to be amused at your words. you love being bratty and he loves disciplining you, after all. this is just right up his alley.

“i think you need more disciplining before i can grant your wish. now turn around and get on all fours. remember to start counting.”

ayato’s eyes seemed to curve in delight as soon as the words leave your pretty lips. an amused and condescending smile blooms on his lips, like a lotus greeting the morning air that is the breath of your ambiguous request. imaginary scenes fill his head, replacing the neat schedule he’s mentally set for the day today, each images filthier than the previous ones.

your beloved toys with you for a while, however. stalls with a series of teasings and seemingly innocent touches on your chin and cheeks and lips - so close yet so far from where you want him most. he chuckles when you whine and plead,

“perhaps we should find a way to constantly satisfy that greedy mouth of yours. how does keeping me company while i work sound? i’ll make sure to get the most comfortable pillows for you to sit on, under my desk.”

#genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #zhongli #al haitham #kaveh #pantalone #ayato #zhongli x reader #al haitham x reader #kaveh x reader #ayato x reader #rin writes #honey can you...#minors dni

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bowrapped · 2 months

Text

burning for you

feline hybrid!reader x older!leon

tags: 18+, porn without plot, cis!afab!reader, owner/pet dynamics, daddy kink, mating/heat cycles, breeding kink, praise kink, hand kink, dd/lg-like themes, established relationship, surprisingly soft?

4.3k words

notes: i took the plunge and finally completed an nsfw fic based on some of my submissions to @lipglossanon as 🎀 anon! i hope y’all enjoy :)

crossposted to ao3

The front door subtly clicked as Leon unlocked it. Usually, you would already be headed to the door in greeting, your sensitive ears picking up his presence from the smallest of noises. This time, however, you were nowhere to be seen, and Leon called out to you as he shed his various accoutrement and walked deeper into the home.

Life with a hybrid had come with solace and routine for Leon, though it was a bit touch and go at times. You had a penchant for digging into his dirty laundry, wrapping yourself in sweaty workout clothes that you swore smelled divine. You were incredibly affectionate, something that both comforted and occasionally confounded Leon. You sweetly stayed by his side, purring as your long tail swished with affection. That’s not to say you were clingy—just honest in your feelings for the older man.

All of these factors were even more pronounced during your heat cycles. Leon knew another was coming soon, and he had a hunch it had come a bit early in spite of his preparations.

The thought was practically confirmed when there was no response to his calls. Leon quickly moved to his bedroom, past experience guiding him to your likely whereabouts.

As expected, he found you curled against his sheets and an assortment of his clothes. Your hands were bunched in the pile of fabric, pointedly refraining from touching your lower body while your thighs pressed together—trying and failing to find relief.

In his presence, you merely whined and curled yourself further into the makeshift nest around you, seemingly unable or unwilling to move very far.

Leon moved to sit on the edge of the bed and sighed, “There you are.”

You quickly shifted from your spot, your face pressed into his side as your hands tightly gripped his shirt. Your body was so tightly strung that you were near tears as you clung to your owner. Voice high and desperate, you cried into the cloth, “I needed you—need you so bad, Daddy.”

Daddy. The name had been your suggestion. You’d asked to call him that from the beginning, stating that it encompassed everything you dreamed an owner would be. A caregiver—someone who would love you unconditionally. His heart had melted at the confession, and he couldn’t help the twinge of arousal hearing the title from your lips. He diligently kept the expected promise of the name, and spoiled you just as it suggested. Middle age was surely softening him, but he wouldn’t focus on that now.

Leon easily untangled you from his side, gathered you in his arms, and sat against the dark wooden headboard. You were pliant as he settled you in his lap, back pressed against his chest and legs resting outside of his. Still, your hands clung to the muscular arms wrapped around your waist.

“Poor kitty,” Leon cooed as he guided your hair to the side, careful not to muss your pointed ears. His lips grazed your heated skin, stubble slightly tickling you as he went, “I’m sorry I wasn’t here earlier, but I’m here now, alright? Daddy’ll make it better.”

“Daddy, please, I—“ you mewled as Leon mouthed and nipped at your neck. “Was so good. I didn’t touch myself just like you told me to. Been waiting for you. Been so good,” your breath was heavy while you babbled, desperate for Leon to touch you.

He hummed in interest and smiled softly at your words—though you couldn’t see it. That rule was another staple in your dynamic, not born from sadism, but what Leon considered necessity.

Though you’d gotten better, you still had a tendency toward messiness. While he couldn’t fully fault you, he still needed to set some ground rules. Coming home to the sight of you grinding against his pillow was hot in the moment, but the extra laundry to be done after the fact was another story.

“Is that right?” He continued to press kisses into your nape as his hands roamed across your clothed chest, “That’s my girl. Daddy’s so proud of you, baby.”

You preened under his praise, chasing the large, rough hands that languidly explored your upper body over the threadbare fabric of Leon’s old tee. Your smaller fingers wrapped around his wrist in an attempt to pull his hands lower. You needed his fingers on your clit, in your cunt, anywhere that could give relief to the burning heat threatening to consume you.

Your body relaxed against Leon’s as he easily followed your lead. The feeling immediately dissipated when he didn’t go further down, but lifted your shirt hem instead.

“Daddy…” you grumbled. Your disappointment was evident, but Leon still pointedly ignored your spread legs and instead exposed your chest to the cool air of the room.

“Patience,” he murmured, his voice low in his chest. “Want to give you some attention here first,” his calloused palms rested underneath your breasts, “We can’t have them feeling left out, can we?”

A high moan caught in your throat. You wanted to argue, to pull his hands down again, but you merely held onto his wrists as he continued to caress you. Your want to follow Leon’s somehow won out over heated desperation.

He caught your pebbled nipples between his forefinger and thumb, rolling and tugging them before grasping your breasts once more. You arched into his calloused hands, pleasured whimpers unmistakable in spite of your discontent.

“There you go…” Leon’s voice was soothing. “I know it’s hard, but just let me play a little.”

You let him. You always did. In your mind, Leon hung the stars, and you consistently followed him even when you protested.

It didn’t help that the rough attention he gave your breasts was a dizzying combination of too much and not enough. Your mind would be muddled regardless, but it was especially so now.

Neither his ministrations, nor your keens wavered as he spoke, “So sensitive here, sweetheart…Makes me wanna use my mouth on you—kiss you until you couldn't take it anymore.”

Your ears were downturned at his words. You knew you would take whatever Leon gave you, but you didn’t know if you could take that much teasing in your current state.

Leon huffed a laugh into your neck, ”I would, too, but you want me somewhere else, right?”

You immediately nodded, your hands again attempted to guide him between your legs. Leon’s arms remained firm, as did his tone, “C’mon. Gotta use your words for me.”

“‘M sorry,” your voice warbled, “I do.” You tugged his wrists again, succeeding this time in moving his hands further downward.

Leon’s fingertips grazed the frilly top of your panties as he playfully feigned ignorance.

“Here?” he questioned, a teasing smile on his face.

Your tail flicked in discontent as you immediately spread your legs even wider for him. “Yes. Please touch me, Daddy. I need it. Need you so badly.” Your hips canted upward, seeking friction that wasn’t there. The ache between your thighs was all-consuming, and you were desperate for the relief you knew Leon could give.

Leon gently patted your hip, “Alright. I’ll give you what you need, okay? No more teasing.”

He snaked his right hand underneath your waistband. His free arm wrapped firmly around your waist—an anchor for you as well as a way to keep you still. The wet spot you left on the white fabric was almost translucent on Leon’s hand as he gathered your slick on his fingertips.

His fingers easily glided across your entrance and up to your clit. You immediately bucked at the contact, but Leon’s arm didn't budge from its place across your soft stomach as he held you against him. His touch started in slow circular motions so as not to overwhelm your sensitive body.

Still, your hips desperately attempted to chase his hand, and you whined in both relieved pleasure and indignation at Leon’s stilling grasp. “It’s okay. I’ve got you,” he cooed.

As much as you wanted Leon to rush with you, he often opted to take his time. In addition to his penchant for teasing, you were precious to him, and he wished to convey that in part with how he handled you in intimate moments—at least until you urged him enough to do differently.

Leon’s languid caresses grew stronger as he guided your overstimulated body. Sloppy, rhythmic clicks and vocal, heaving breaths announced your desperation to the otherwise silent room. His fingers swept across your clit and down your soaked cunt where he began to work his fingers inside you. Your muscles immediately tightened around him, trying to pull his digits further in.

“Hah—Daddy,” you cried out, body still trying to move with the rhythm of his hand. The heel of Leon’s palm grinded against your clit as two of his fingers curled inside you. You lurched, moans caught high in your throat at the intense feeling. Your dulled nails gripped Leon’s forearms. The unfounded thought of him removing his hands had you scrambling to keep him in place.

With your limited movement, you arched back into Leon as you chased the stimulation of his hand. The feel of his hardening cock underneath you only spurred on your growing climax. The air was filled with your high-pitched cries and the lewd wet sound of Leon’s fingers moving inside of you, “Fuck—please, don’t stop, Daddy.”

A low hush brushed against your skin. “It’s okay, I won’t stop,” his lips were hotly pressed to your ear as he attempted to soothe you. “Wouldn’t dream of it, sweetheart.”

Leon’s soft words and strong grip were grounding to your overactive mind. Though your hand was tight on his own and your cries didn’t fully cease, your body still minutely relaxed into his.

“Atta girl,” Leon murmured, “You’re alright. Just need to let Daddy take care of you.”

He pressed his palm harsher against you, trying to guide you over the edge, “Want you to cum on my fingers first. Can you do that for me?”

“Mhm. I can,” you hiccuped, “Wanna feel good. Wanna be good for you, Daddy.” You continued to chase your high, grinding down on Leon’s hand as he pressed a third finger alongside the others.

His voice kept rumbling softly in your mind, and despite your best efforts, you couldn’t grasp any of the words spoken into your tufted ear. Your attention was solely focused on your impending climax and the sight of Leon’s hand between your legs.

Your eyes followed the flexing tendons in his wrist down to the hand half-hidden by soaked fabric. A part of you yearned to see his hand work against you, unconcealed by the frilled garment. Another loathed the idea of losing his touch at all.

You didn’t have to ponder the dilemma for much longer as your climax encroached the forefront of your mind. Leon’s hands and voice were both quickly guiding you toward your peak, and you followed the feeling with abandon. Your body had been left wanting, but now it could finally get relief. You trembled in his arms, ears folded and brow furrowed in pleasure.

“That’s it,” he drawled, “Know you can do it, baby.”

The knot in your core continually grew tighter under Leon’s rough hands and gentle coaxing. You fell over the edge easily. Your nails and mind latched onto the whispered promise of relief and a full cunt. Later, you’d be apologetic at each of the marks you left on Leon’s skin, but the thought was far away in the wake of your climax.

Your ears buzzed as the feeling swept you under. Leon worked your body through it, his fingers sticky with your release.

“There you go…” he cooed. His touches slowly transitioned from strong presses to soft caresses that left your body quivering.

Your chest heaved on the pleasant come down. Yet still, you felt empty in spite of his fingers. Heat demanded one thing from you, and the yearning ache in your core would not let you forget that fact.

You impatiently pulled his hand from your panties and interrupted its languid dance across your pussy. His fingers separated, and the semi-translucent strings connecting them instantly caught your eye.

Without thinking, you ran your textured tongue up his salty-sweet palm. “Daddy,” you spoke against his skin. “Wanna keep going,” you captured his fingers between your lips, catching his knuckles on your canines and muffling your voice, “Please?”

You lost yourself in your owner’s calloused hands. You had always been enamored with them and their ability to treat you with both stern guidance and delicate finesse. Today was no different.

Leon’s grip tightened around your waist. As much as (or perhaps, because) he loved it, attending to you had left him painfully hard and wanting. The feel of your warm mouth and the unintentional satisfied hums reverberating in your throat did little to help.

He shifted his fingers against your tongue, coaxing your mouth open when he spread them. You chased the thin bands of saliva connecting you, gathering his fingers back into your mouth in a meager attempt to clean them.

Leon’s eyes were fixed onto your mouth as he breathed, “Alright, baby. Just need you to get up for me, okay?”

Your lips relinquished their hold on Leon’s hand, now only slightly less messy than before. You quickly adjusted your position—poised on your knees, presenting yourself regardless of your semi-clothed form. Your tail swayed above you in silent beacon as you awaited his response.

God. Leon was sure you’d be the death of him. He’d expected you to simply shift, to sit between his legs and face him while you anticipated his next words. Normally, you would, and Leon felt this boldness was a side effect of your biology-induced desperation. Either way, he couldn’t help but enjoy the view.

His hands easily rested on your hips as he knelt behind you. One rested at your tailbone, your soft fur nestled in the cradle between his index finger and thumb. The other teased at the line of your underwear in the silent promise of removing the garment.

“Shit,” he sighed, “Almost too pretty for your own good.” His palms were hot against your skin, unmoving but firm.

You shivered underneath him when you realized the image you likely projected in that moment. You, half-clothed with tousled hair and your hips high in offering. Him, still in the base of his work clothes with only flushed cheeks and tented jeans to betray his lust.

Fighting the urge to grind back into him, you let Leon explore your body at his own pace.

He silently stroked the base of your tail as his eyes and free hand roamed over your body. A low purr vibrated in your chest. Though the heated ache persisted, you always indulged in any attention Leon gave you.

Leon had a strong teasing streak—something that had seriously frustrated you at first. In your mind, you didn’t know why you would deny yourself when you could instead be honest and proactive in your desires.

With time, you learned that while it did partially come from a place of mischief, it mostly stemmed from appreciation. He wanted to take his time with you, lathe affection on each inch of your skin, and cement that you were his to cherish.

His hand shifted across your ass and down to the gusset of your panties. Your hips jumped when his thumb ran a smooth line down to your clothed clit.

“Daddy…”

Though you understood his teasing, it didn’t mean you were never impatient in the wake of it.

Leon gently hushed you, “Want to take my time with you for a little longer. Just be patient for me.”

You breathed in quiet pants as his light touches continued. He pulled the damp cotton down your thighs, smoothing your puffed tail as it threaded through the makeshift hole in the fabric.

His hand again found its place between your legs. You jerked under his touch as his thumb ran along soaked skin. Before you could fully sink into the feeling, it seemed to leave almost as soon as it arrived.

You turned back to protest, but all impatient remarks caught in your throat when you caught his eye over your shoulder. Leon mirrored your earlier actions, albeit much less messily, savoring what your body left on the pad of his thumb.

Noticing your reaction, his eyes creased at the edges. “You made it look so good, thought I needed a reminder.” His free hand revealed more of your face from under your mussed locks, “But that can come later, right?”

He shifted back, deft fingers quickly undoing the clasps of his well-worn belt and deep blue jeans. A low sigh escaped him as he freed his cock. Precum beaded at the flushed tip, belying the composure he’d shown thus far.

You reached for Leon’s hand in a silent plea, and he quickly tangled your fingers in understanding.

A high moan rushed from your throat as he slowly guided himself into your welcoming heat. The feeling of him was not new, but it was nevertheless overwhelming. Your mind was awash with him. The dull burning stretch of your muscles, the warmth of his hands on your sides, and the timbre of Leon’s voice all swam in your muddled mind and culminated in slurred gratitude.

Daddy—thank you, thank you, thank you…!

“Shh, don’t gotta thank me, sweetheart,” he whispered, “Relax. Let me take care of you.”

You hiccuped a relieved sob at finally being filled. Your face burned—though you couldn’t dwell on your outburst. Instead, your breathing was heavy as you tried to relax around him. Wanted as it was, the insistent press of his cock was heady in your cotton-filled brain.

Leon let out a low moan as your body greedily took him in. In spite of your shared desperation, he kept his pace slow and his touch gentle. His hand squeezed yours in reassurance, and he quietly called your name. “Talk to me,” he coaxed, voice rough in his throat.

You nodded earnestly, one side of your face against the bedsheets, “I’m okay…” your voice trembled, “Sorry.”

He chuckled, “It’s alright. Don’t want to hurt you, that's all.”

“You won’t,” you grinded against him as you deepened the arch of your back, goading Leon further, “I can take it, Daddy. Please?”

“Fuck…” Leon hissed, his hips involuntarily following yours. He pressed your intertwined hands into the mattress, “I can never say no to you, can I?”

Your voice was lost in your throat, and the rhetorical question was simply met with pleased mewls as he finally moved. Obscene wet noises resounded from where your bodies were joined. The sound mingled with your voices in an unorthodox symphony.

Leon’s hand untangled from yours, moving to firmly grasp your hip. With it, he guided your body onto his, thrusts heavy as he fell into rhythm. His eyes trailed down the glistening line of your spine to where the two of you were connected. Your cunt wrapped tightly around him, seemingly trying to keep his cock nestled deep inside.

“Can’t help but spoil you.” Leon’s voice was low and rough as his eyes remained on you. A white band of your arousal already began to gather at his base—another mark of explicit honesty from your tightly wound body.

Each of your cries were muffled into the mattress as he fucked you. Your pleasured babbles were almost unintelligible to Leon as you continued to hide from him.

Muscular arms gathered you close to his chest, your damp skin hot against his own. Your head lolled to the side in a meager bid for him to move higher as he placed more forceful, heated kisses along your shoulder. “You don’t need to hide, sweetheart,” he murmured, stubble now rough against you. As he spoke, one of his hands trailed down to your soaked cunt.

It easily found its mark, rubbing quick circles along your clit and further coaxing you to your climax. You bucked in his grasp at the added stimulation. Your hands clutched his forearms as they searched for an anchor. You were certain his grip was the only thing keeping you kneeling on your shaking legs.

Your words were interspersed with whines and moans as he continued to move inside of you, “‘M sorry, Daddy—just feels so good.”

You could feel his smile at your words. “It’s alright,” he breathed, “Just let go for me.” His other hand found its way to your breast, cradling it in his palm. He let his thumb trace circles across its peak, his movements gentle yet purposeful.

Your voice continued to fill the room in tandem with the sound of your bodies moving together. Each of Leon’s touches had you barreling toward your peak.

Your tail trembled against Leon’s chest, and you whined high in your throat, the vibrations reaching Leon’s lips as he kissed your fevered skin, “Daddy, ‘m so close—please.” You weren't sure what you were asking for with your pleasure-slurred words. You just knew you didn’t want him to stop.

“I know, baby,” he whispered. He continued to rub your clit as he pressed his lips against yours in a messy kiss. His heavy breaths mingled with yours as he spoke, “Daddy’s got you. It’s okay.”

His movements became more forceful, his hips pumping into you faster than before. His encouraging whispers and forceful touches remained as you reached the edge.

A final coo from him had you tumbling to your orgasm. Your body shook in Leon’s grasp as he fucked you through it. You almost chanted his name and given title like a prayer as you crested over each wave of pleasure. Your cunt tightly squeezed around him. Leon’s resulting groan was lost in the rushing of your ears.

He continued to thrust into you, feeling his own release beginning to come soon after yours. “Oh, fuck,” he choked back a whine, his breath hot against your sweat-dampened skin.

You reached behind you, hooking your fingers into what you could of Leon’s thigh. “Please, don’t stop,” you begged—desperate for him even now, “Wan’ it inside.”

Leon’s cock throbbed at your request. The admission wasn’t new by any means, but it was no less spurring. His arms snaked closer around your waist, seeking more leverage to buck his hips upwards into yours.

“Okay, I’ll give you what you want, baby. Give it to you,” he rested a palm just under your navel, “right here. Right where it should be, hm?.”

You clenched around him again, eliciting another pleasured hiss from Leon. “Yes! Want it so bad. Wanna be full. Need to be full, Daddy,” your frantic pleas continued.

Your trimmed nails pressed small crescent moons into Leon’s skin as you clung to him. You reached between your legs, already seeking another release as Leon chased his own.

“Shh…” Leon soothed you, rubbing his hand along your side. “It's okay. I won’t stop.” He deftly replaced your hand with his own, his larger fingers rubbing quick circles against your swollen clit.

“Just a little bit longer, baby,” he whispered hoarsely. “Then I’ll fill you up. Try and make you a mommy. Would my pretty girl like that?”

Your body prickled in arousal at Leon’s words. You nodded jerkily, words slurring while you trembled in his arms, “Please, Daddy, I want that s’much. Wan’ you to get me pregnant.”

Your heats often lead down this line of talk. Leon wasn’t even sure if it was possible, but he always indulged you. He also couldn’t deny that the idea of it taking, leaving you glowing and full of him months down the line had his abdomen tight with want.

Leon held his hips flush against you as he reached his peak. He cursed lowly into your neck while his cock throbbed, filling you with each movement. The warmth spreading within you along with your owner’s goading words sent you over the edge again with him.

Your bodies fed into each other’s pleasure in a dizzying loop. Each clench of your muscles caused him to grind more harshly into your cunt, filling you further as you milked his release.

“Daddy, Daddy, Daddy—” your words strung together as you came around him. Your tail wrapped loosely around his waist in a meager attempt to keep him in place.

He held you tightly to his broad chest, keeping his cock pressed snugly against your cervix. He kissed your fevered temple as you came down together, whispering soothing words with each press of his lips.

You clung to him with equal fervor. Mewls quietly tumbled from your mouth while Leon enveloped you.

Your bodies remained connected as your heart rates and breathing gradually slowed. After a moment, he began to unwrap his arms from your spent frame—ready to clean the two of you from the evening. Before he could, however, your hands immediately tightened their grip on him.

“Wait—don’t want any to spill out. Wanna keep it all in. Please?” Your soft feline ears were flat against your head at the thought of Leon leaving you empty. You wanted to cockwarm him—keep him and his cum as deep as possible for as long as he’d let you.

Leon shook his head and looked down at you with affectionate amusement, “Greedy…” Despite his teasing remark, he allowed himself to be pulled back.

Ensuring your bodies remained connected, Leon carefully guided you both back to your earlier position—you sat in his lap while his back rested against the headboard.

The feeling of his jeans underneath you erred on the edge of uncomfortable as the opened fly pressed into your skin. You refused to admit it to Leon, though, and instead opted to lean further into the man.

His fingers combed through your hair, taming some of the tangles. Your head tilted toward his touch, eager to be pet. He readily obliged you and you purred contentedly in his arms, heat sated—at least for the moment.

#leon kennedy x reader #hybrid reader #leon s kennedy x reader #i have so many thoughts when it comes to hybrid reader #i could’ve written more but i needed to pace myself for my first smut fic lmao #there will most likely be a part two to this tbh #like a cat series #my works

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bellarkeselection · 5 months

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Hiii!! I saw that you wrote for Georgie Cooper from you Sheldon and I was wondering if you would write for him again 😊 Can I get Georgie with a latina gf that loves to cook, whenever she goes over to his house she's always bringing food from her culture (I'm Mexican so Mexican food ofc) .

Culture Cooking

I am not Latina so I hope I wrote this correctly 🤗 and a very short request in my opinion but I hope you still enjoy

Coming out of Missy’s room that used to be Georgie’s old bedroom, I had decided to get up early and make the family breakfast. I had stayed the night after my date with her older brother, and we didn’t get back till really late, so she said I could sleep over in her room. Walking down the small hallway and into the kitchen, I got lost in thought, thinking of the ingredients that I needed. I have been bringing over some spices and stuff when I would come over here. I loved cooking for Georgie, and he always seemed to enjoy my family's food. “Hey…uh what are you doing up this early?”

Whipping my head around away from the stove I saw Georgie stumbling his way into the kitchen. “Oh hey. I thought I’d make the family my kind of breakfast.”

“Sweet.” He smiled sitting down at the table watching me go back to cooking. My family had moved to Texas after my father got a new job here being the assistant principal.

One day after I was leaving from English class I had been walking down the hallway and accidentally bumped into Georgie. All of our notebooks went flying and that’s how we met basically. Turning the oven off I put the whole meal together on a plate and slid it across the table to him. “I present to you one of my families favorite things to eat for breakfast.”

“Woah this smells really good.” Georgie gave me praise picking up his fork and dove right in. He took a big bite making the same noise he does whenever his Meemaw makes brisket for dinner that he loves.

Georgie stared at me with a mouth full of food. “So what’s in this?”

“Let’s see it’s a fried tortilla topped with salsa. And there’s eggs, pulled chicken, cream cheese and bean included inside it too.” I chuckled sitting down and taking some bites out of the one I had made for myself with him.

Georgie took a few minutes to finish his food wiping some sauce that was left on his plate. I bite my lip trying not to laugh at seeing some cream in his hair where I moved one hand up wiping it away. “Awe dang it! I guess you are a really good cook if I get it in my hair.” He chuckled back at me.

“Yeah suppose so.” I responded moving our plates off the table hearing someone else entering the kitchen seeing it was Missy.

She squealed hugging me by the waist. “Hi Y/n. What did you make for breakfast?”

“She made a fried tortilla.” Her older brother said forking some more from the pan onto his plate.

Missy gave me a confused look. “A fried tortilla?”

“Yes but it’s actually called Chilaquiles.” I told her before she sat down and I made her a plate of her own.

Georgie finished his second plate putting his plate up in the sink then came over to me. He wrapped his arms around my waist bringing me closer to his chest with that same cheeky grin. “Even if I can’t pronounce your food half the time. You’re still a really good cook. Everybody in the family enjoys it. So thank you for this and all the other meals.”

“You’re welcome, Georgie. I always love cooking for y’all.” Draping my arms over his shoulders I grinned up at him kissing him slowly where he tightened his hands around me deepening the kiss.

He moved one hand into my hair and the other on my waist. We we’re getting caught up in the kiss that we almost wound have gone further if it wasn’t for his sister being in the kitchen with us. “Eww. If I knew you two were going to kiss after you ate I would have eaten my breakfast in front of the tv.” Missy made a look of discomfort.

“Awe I’m sorry Missy. I can’t help if he’s a good kisser and likes my food at the same time.” I shrugged my shoulders with him draping an arm over my shoulder so I laid my head on his shoulder since he was slightly taller than I was.

Georgie looped our hands together sending me a smirk. “Best of both words, my darling. You’re pretty awesome Y/n.”

“Stop being cute or I’m gonna barf my food.” She whined at us with her tounge sticking out.

I gasped remembering that their parents were already at work for the day so that left Sheldon in our care. Snapping my fingers at Missy I questioned his twin sister worried he needed to eat. “Missy, go tell your brother that I made breakfast.”

“Sheldon, Y/n made breakfast!” She spun around in her seat hollering towards their bedroom causing me and her older brother to start cracking up in laughter. Squeezing Georgie’s hand in mine I always enjoyed anytime I got to cook for this family.

Comments really appreciated ❤️

#georgie cooper imagine #georgie cooper x reader #montana jordan #georgie cooper #the big bang theory #young sheldon #young sheldon imagine #young sheldon x reader #x reader #mexican #mexican food #ask box is open for anything #comments really appreciated #latina #latina reader #chilaquiles

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diorcities · 8 months

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⠀ ⠀ ── 𖥻 ๋ 𓈒 ⭐ ࣪ ࣭ ◍ ᜔ being a sleepy head !

nct dream fluff headcanon.

jaemin. at midnight, the sheets tangle on your limbs as his fingers run down your spine in a deliberate gesture. your tongue tangles in your palate and feels heavy as you talk about trivial things while he listens patiently. smiling sweetly when you can't follow the thread of your thoughts at the speed you desire, and your eyes look one last glimpse into his loving eyes before plunging you into a deep sleep. your body is covered by a blanket and you barely hear his voice saying “let's meet again in your dreams.” warming the place where your heart rests.

haechan. he is a night person. even with his schedules, he usually has more sleep resistance than you. you've both put on a series that you've been wanting to watch together, and since I this moments don't happen very often, you plan to spend the whole day curled up next to him. his body is so warm, and his grip comforting, that you soon decide to leave him to go to the ethereal world of dreams. and among the semi-unconsciousness, you think you feel his laugh poking you, “unbelievable, why you choose that boring movie if you were going to fall asleep?” just feeling your body being gently drawn to his “i'll tell you how the movie ends in the morning.”

jisung. the different time zones had your internal clock pretty damaged and crazy, to the point where you slept all afternoon and were more than awake at night. therefore, your night endurance is greater than jisung's. even on his day off, the poor boy does nothing but sleep. silence settles in the room when you know he's not listening to you anymore, hearing to the slight snoring of the boy with the cold nose on your neck, feeling him stir between dreams, “oh- fuck,” he murmurs, nuzzling his face, “did i fall asleep?” he asks. “pretty much, yeah.” you hear his muffled laugh, but deep down it makes you happy that he rests properly, especially when you know his workday. his only response is get closer to you. “keep talking, i swear i won't fall asleep this time.” quick spoiler: he did.

mark. it is a habit to put on a film and not pay attention to it while talking and using it as background noise. both of you have fairly tight schedules, and believe it is possible to do everything at the same time, such as ordering food delivery and chatting while watching a movie. but honestly, you are so exhausted, that the film takes a back seat while you both have your intimate moment full of kisses and caresses. it's impossible not to fall asleep for both of you. and even in the limbo of dreams, you're there with him, and he's talking to you while he sleeps, “i love you.”

renjun. he does not usually rest for long, and many times (only when you are aware that he is not by your side sleeping) you see him at his desk writing new entries in his diary, or painting with his watercolors. you are aware, too, that he does that when he is very overwhelmed or overloaded with things. and even when he goes back to bed the moment you notice his absence and wake up, or call his name, you worry that he's keeping him hidden from you; the way he uses art to release all the weight that keep him awake. “you scared me,” he pronounces shyly when you approach him and rest your head on his shoulder, “i woke you up? forgive me...” he stops his word when you shake your head, “should we go to bed, then?” he wonders, but again, you deny. “finish this first, love.” you smile tenderly, snuggling into him as he returns to his drawing: somewhat kind of similar to you.

chenle. having a tight schedule makes it difficult to see chenle often. you never seem to coincide because you leave first thing in the morning and when you arrive exhausted to sleep, chenle returns until late at night. he scolds you on occasion when you insist on staying up even when you both know that means you'll feel sleepy at work. in the end, he lets you do what you want, because deep down, he misses your long chats before going to bed. “so... one of my... coworkers said...” your eyelids close on their own, you swear by your life. and your tongue feels so heavy, but you must keep going, because seriously, seriously it's funny, “have you- seen my... sandwich?... and i said..., it's in...” chenle waits for the punchline while he strokes your hair, but it never comes, so with a amused smile dancing on his lips, he turns off the lamp. “your mouth?” he wonders at the ceiling, widening his eyes, “the toilets?”

jeno. the letters change places when you look at them for a long time. you blink, your eyelids heavy linger towards the empty coffee cup next to your notes; your attempt to do an all-nighter has been unsuccessful as you feel the sleep spell take control of your body. “come, darling,” seems to whisper sandman in your ear. as you are in the limbo between the two universes, your body seems to float and be welcomed by his warm embrace, followed by the gentle movement that lullies you back when jeno takes you to his room.

#nct imagines #nct scenarios #nct dream headcanons #nct dream fluff #nct dream fluff headcanons #haechan fluff #mark lee fluff #jaemin fluff #jeno fluff #renjun fluff #chenle fluff #jisung fluff #nct fluff #nct dream reactions #nct dream imagines #♡dream

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blueparadis · 2 years

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❝ OUR LITTLE SECRET ❞ + al-haitham, cyno,tighnari, dottore.

+. CWs —» female anatomy, she/her pronouns, explicit sexual content, s/d dynamics,accidental voyeurism, oral acts, sensory deprivation, spit kink, corruption kink, overstimulation, praise kink, use of sex toys, pet names,cockwarming, cum play, manhandle.

+. PRECIS —» — desires and secrets are deadly combination. The later amplifies the former in order to keep the secret safe.

+. tags — @xshinigamikittenx @haitaniapologist @luvbladez @tokyometronetwork + links section.

+. AL-HAITHAM

Haitham is a man of few words and that too full of tactical reasoning yet he was not a guy to mask his expressions, and behaviors. Even though he maintains a strong expression it falters whenever you're around him. He shutters and does not seem to maintain eye contact much, it wanders off to your bosom. He does not even realize how you have noticed him staring at your boobs, every time you're busy with your chore. But when you saw him touching himself sloppily over the cloth, you had to help.

"Need a hand?", haitham was stunned. His bulge was now pronounced even more. He chuckled embarrassingly and just gestured for you to enter his room with a nod. He was pressing your buttons just like you did. He watched you meticulously but he was not ready for the next stunt you pulled. Sitting near his feet, you unbuttoned your dress having your upper bare at his display. His cheeks flushed, chest heaved prominently unable to process this situation.

He was not going to stop you either. His craving for you was overpowering and it certainly made him more silent than he ever was. You fondled your boobs while he took out his cock. The tip was already limped. He thought you'd blow him or give him a hand but when you took his cock in between your cleavage he lost his sanity.

"Ohh fuck" he uttered out loud and he knew he was screwed when you spat on his cock before rubbing his cock with your boobs pressed against his hefty shaft making him groan and shudder. You could feel your arousal soaking your panty but watching his cum spill over your boobs, him being too breathless to talk was far more enticing.

+. CYNO

The moment General Mahamatra saw you he knew he has to score before tighnari. Cyno was allured by those lips that won't stop talking, and asking questions and tighnari was more than happy to answer. He does not miss a chance to tease you especially when he caught Cyno gawking at you. On the other hand, cyno was not willing to make some eye-catching efforts and hence he took the next chance which he was eagerly waiting for: tighnari's absence and leaving you in his care. So, he made the most out of it.

"Suck", he commands having you knelt near his feet. As you take his cock in her mouth, Cyno lets out a groan having your warm mouth sheathing his aroused cock. Those lips that have been haunting him since the moment he saw you are now wrapped around his cock, finally, moving to and fro making him dizzy. He has been keeping himself in check, but when you were struggling to take him all the way he had to help you, teach you how those lips could provide heavenly pleasure which you seem to waste in talking and questioning.

Cyno cups your cheeks, lightly at first thinking you might not be able to take him or rather not respond to him like he wanted you to be, totally under his control. But when you peer through your eyelashes, soft fingers curling around his toned calf muscles he knew you were perfect for him. His grips harden around your cheeks as he starts to glide your head against his cock. His tip starts to graze the back of your throat after a few strokes, muffling noises escaping your lips encouraging Cyno to fuck that pretty mouth of yours. But he can't. He won't. He wants to prepare you, teach you how to please him, and him alone.

And just when he notices your decline in tolerance of taking him, tears pooling at the corner of your eyes he pulls out leaving you all gasping and panting. No, he does not stop there. While he gives you time to catch up with your breath as he pumps his cock to and fro with rough strokes shooting his cum over your face and exclaiming satiably, " You're good. You just need proper guidance"

Both of you were so oblivious to how tighnari planned this all along whose palms were covered with cum.

+. TIGHNARI

Tighnari loves to relax with your mouth wrapped around his cock after a day full of chores. Certainly, he is very fond of you the idea of sitting on his cock with your hands held behind your back as he sucks your tits but he is too tired for that.

“open up, I need this”, his voice slurred while you lick your lips before taking his cock into your mouth. He is bone-tired to let you sit on his cock, let alone bounce on it.

But he always lets you know how good you are, how you are so flawless at everything, even taking care of him. " Your mouth feels so good", his voice is mellowed and words rolling over each other, and with his lusty green eyes rolling white in pleasure you could tell, he would cum soon. yet you need not worry about it since he never cums in your mouth with a warning, anywhere to be precise till he lets you know that he is at the peak.

White, murky fluid gushes down your throat making you choke and pull away immediately. was he too tired to inform you? to tell you that he is close? were you so good that he forgot all about his manners? You shoot him a smile rubbing his cum off your lips and neckline earning his strong gaze on you. He knew he could not lose you. At that moment, he did forget about all his manners and kissed those lips that were slick and wet with his cum.

+. DOTTORE

Dottore likes to test deep waters. He is an explorer in every aspect of his choices. Be it having you sit on his cock as he finishes his work or giving all his attention to you, that is having his cock inside your ass while he puts a vibrator inside your cunt.

The latter happens more often since he loves how vocal you are, how responsive you are, and most importantly how obedient you are to make good use of the butt plug he gave you.

Incoherent noises fill the room as dottore pushes the button increasing the intensity of the vibrator. Every time you are nearing your high he either stops it or decreases the intensity. He is merciless; the more you beg, the more he enjoys the thrill of watching you lose your sanity, and the more he denies it.

"Ah, Princess. Just call my name one more time." he drawls out with excitement but you are too much of a mumbling mess to give him what he wants, do it what he asks. "Please I insist", he says as your cum spills along your thighs, coating his balls.

"Fuck you Dottore", you yell accompanied by a harsh moan as he increases the intensity to the fullest, keeping aside the controller so that he could guide you bouncing on his hard cock.

"not so loud darling, you don't want Pantalone to know about this right? " all you could do was give him a nod but the bigger question was how on earth did he know about your little quickies with Pantalone. Was it the Regrator who bragged about your pussy or dottore watching, jerking off as the former fucked you witless?"

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poisonlove · 5 months

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can you write a fem reader x tara fic where reader is anika’s best friend or sister or something and anika wants to introduce reader to the group

Oh yes, I really like the idea, haha. I just hope you like what I've come up with. Sorry for the delay, but sooner or later, I'll write every request. 😊

The night we met | t.c

tara carpenter x reader

"Excuse me, sorry," I uttered with difficulty, trying to navigate through the crowd.

I found myself at the fraternity party in New York, immersed in the atmosphere of loud music and an air filled with a mix of sweat and grass. It was Halloween, and the guys were dressed up, adding a touch of eccentricity to the party. The noise of laughter and music served as a background as I struggled to make my way through the crowd, eager to reach my destination amid the festive chaos.

I released a sigh of relief as I made my way through the crowd, and finally, in the center of the party I saw a familiar scene. My best friend, Anika, was sitting on a small couch with a girl. It was clear that she was Anika's girlfriend considering how Anika had her legs stretched over hers, and the girl's hand was absentmindedly caressing Anika's leg.

I approached with a smile, happy to have found my destination amidst all the festive chaos.

"Hey," I said smiling at my best friend. Anika gave me a beautiful smile as soon as our eyes met.

"Mindy... this is y/n, my best friend," Anika introduced, pointing in my direction. "y/n, this is Mindy, my girlfriend," she announced, smiling broadly and giving a playful look to her girlfriend.

"Pleasure to meet you," I said in a loud voice, trying to make myself heard amidst the party's noise.

"The pleasure is mine," Mindy replied with a smile, looking at me with curious eyes.

"Cute costume," she noted immediately, looking me up and down with a mischievous smile. "Certainly... frightening," she added laughing under her breath.

"Thank you," I replied, slightly embarrassed. Perhaps Harry Potter wasn't the most suitable choice for this situation, now that I think about it.

"I'm going... going to get something to drink," I said, leaning toward Anika, who nodded in agreement.

I made my way through the crowd again, heading towards the drink counter a few meters away. While walking, a girl who was dancing accidentally elbowed me, making me lose my balance and collide with someone.

"Oh my god, I'm sorry," I immediately said after regaining my balance, looking up to apologize to the person I had bumped into.

When my eyes met hers, I was mesmerized. Before me stood a girl dressed as a pirate, with brown hair cascading to her shoulders.

"Don't worry, it's fine," she said calmly, indicating that she was unharmed by our collision. Her eyes, glazed from alcohol, analyzed me more closely.

I responded with a slightly embarrassed smile.

The girl with a smile on her face approached me even more causing my heartbeat to quicken. The height difference between us became evident as we looked into each other's eyes. Her presence, heightened by the festive atmosphere and the effect of alcohol, created an aura of curiosity and excitement.

The pirate, tilting her head, raised her hands to my face. With a confident and gentle gesture, she adjusted my round glasses.

"There you go, much better," she said laughing softly.

"TARA!"

The voice resonated in the chaos of the party and I immediately turned my gaze towards the sound. I saw Tara turning, revealing her well-defined jaw, upturned nose, and full lips.

"Everything okay?" Mindy asked, directing the question to Tara and showing a slight concern as I turned to see.

Tara's brown eyes turned back in my direction, radiant with brightness and fascination. "Let's go get something to drink, Pottah," she said, smiling widely, and a slight giggle escaped when she pronounced "Potter" with an English accent.

"That's what I wanted to do, Elizabeth Swann," I replied, amused.

Tara raised an eyebrow with curiosity, her scrutinizing gaze fixed on me. "Swann?" she asked with genuine curiosity. "Oh... it was a reference to Pirates of the Caribbean, you know... like a matching costume to your pirate outfit,"

I was grateful that the room was relatively dark, allowing me to conceal my embarrassment.

Tara chuckled softly. "Got it, I was teasing you." She raised a hand, shaking it timidly while she spoke.

"Could I have another?" she asked the person behind the counter, genuinely smiling. It was only then that I realized Tara already had a glass in her hand.

"There's none left," the guy behind the counter replied.

And that's when a certain guy approached with a flirtatious smile. "Hey beauties... I'm Edward," the guy said, but he only looked at Tara. "Y/n," I said, annoyed. "Tara," the girl replied with a smile on her lips.

My eyes rolled slightly without making a sound.

"In the kitchen, there's something to drink... if you want," Edward affirmed, giving me a dazzling smile t

Tara and i along with Edward, made our way to the kitchen to get something to drink. As I took a sip, the strong, bitter taste of alcohol made me scrunch up my nose. Meanwhile, Edward was openly flirting with Tara, creating a tense and uncomfortable atmosphere that made me wish I were elsewhere.

The guy put an arm around Tara's waist, causing clear discomfort to the brunette.

It was clear that the guy wanted to take Tara upstairs. With a pleading look, Tara asked me to help her in that embarrassing situation. Her expression reflected a mixture of discomfort and hope as she sought a way out of that embarrassing situation.

"Hey!" I said seriously, putting my hand on Edward's arm.

The guy, obviously tipsy, looked at me confused, smiling mischievously. "If you want to come too, I won't complain," he chuckled quietly.

"Let go of Tara," I said seriously, tightening my lips at the disgusting proposition. "She doesn't want to," I added, shooting a glance at the pirate.

"Potter..." Edward muttered weakly. "I'll make her change her mind," he concluded, smiling.

"Tara! Let's go home," Anika intervened, looking at the guy attentively.

"He won't let her go," I said nervously, noticing how Tara looked at me with bright eyes, perhaps trying to hold back tears.

"Tara stays here," a guy intervened. Mindy was next to him.

a statuesque cowboy.

I raised an eyebrow in confusion thinking that maybe he was the pirate girl's boyfriend.

"Come on, Chad... we just want to have some fun," the guy said, his face red from alcohol.

"She stays here," the guy reiterated seriously, approaching the stairs.

Edward, climbing two steps, made Tara lose her balance, clearly not wanting to follow him. The sudden movement surprised her, and her expression reflected a combination of fear and disorientation as she tried to maintain stability. Edward's firm grip on her arm seemed more like an attempt to drag her than a supportive gesture, adding an element of constraint to the embarrassing situation Tara found herself in.

Tara grimaced, trying to hide the pain as Edward insisted on dragging her up the stairs.

In the blink of an eye, the situation escalated as Chad grabbed Edward by the shirt, attempting to force him to step down. Edward, trying to retaliate, eventually let go of Tara. With a swift motion, the pirate sought refuge in my arms, trying to regain balance after the unexpected turmoil. The tension in the air was palpable as gazes clashed, with Tara still a bit disheveled but clearly grateful to have escaped from that unwanted aggression.

"Take her outside," Anika said seriously. Without saying anything, I found myself walking with Tara against my body toward the exit of the house.

Outside, silence reigned supreme, broken only by the occasional passing car. The starry sky shone, and the full moon illuminated the night. The cold made Tara shiver slightly, enveloped in the quiet of the evening.

"Are you okay?" I asked with concern.

Tara looked at me, smiling and nodding.

I decided to take off my tunic, a sort of jacket I was wearing, and offered it to her. In short sleeves and jeans, I noticed the cold was starting to be felt a bit.

"Take this, it might help you warm up," I suggested, offering my tunic to Tara in the hope that it could give her at least some comfort.

Tara raised the corners of her lips, putting on the coat I had given her and looking at me with a grateful expression.

She swayed slowly towards me, resting her hands on my shirt. Her gaze was directed at me with her chin slightly lifted. A mixture of vulnerability and gratitude reflected in her eyes.

"Thank you," she said timidly.

My cheeks tinged with red due to the proximity, and Tara smiled sweetly. With a sloppy attempt, the girl tried to stand on tiptoe, causing a laugh from me for her effort.

Tara pouted, but it was amusing to see the slightly tipsy girl.

Tara's hands moved gently on my face, removing my glasses.

With a smile on my lips, I watched as the girl pushed her glasses up on her head, looking at me curiously. My smile faded when I saw Tara lean forward, eager to press her lips to mine.

"Tara... you're drunk," I said, smiling amusedly. "And I'm a girl," I clarified, not wanting Tara in her state to overlook the situation.

For heaven's sake, I was gay, but I didn't want to kiss a drunk straight girl.

"And so what? I've noticed," she replied, smiling, biting her lower lip. "I just want to kiss you," she affirmed, amused.

Her hand caressed the lightning-shaped scar on my forehead. "You're extremely sexy with this costume," she murmured.

"You have a boyfriend," I said with a slightly irritated tone, remembering a certain Chad. Tara gave a wide smile, shaking her head. "I don't have a boyfriend," she said amusedly.

"In any case, you're drunk," I reiterate, amused, sensing how Tara smelled of alcohol and most likely a perfume."Maybe you can give me a kiss when you're conscious of your actions," I whispered, brushing a strand of hair from her forehead.

"Pottah, kiss your Hermione," she blurted out with a smile on her lips, and I rolled my eyes at her comment. "Actually, it's Ginny," I said, smiling slightly. "Whatever it is," mumbled Tara.

"Another time," I added, smiling at her amusing behavior.

Tara sighs loudly and leans against my chest, wrapping her arms around my body in search of warmth. My eyes curiously scanned the exit of the house, but the smile faded from my face when I saw Anika's eyes looking at me mischievously from a distance. Her girlfriend did the same, and the only one confused was the guy next to them.

Oh, crap. I'm in for an unpleasant interrogation.

#jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega #jenna ortega x you #jenna ortega x fem!reader #jenna ortega x y/n #tara carpenter x reader #tara carpenter #scream 6 #party dress #drunk #Tara drunk #jenna marie ortega

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jayden-writes · 2 months

Text

just this once

pairing: Lucifer x gn!Reader

wordcount: ~1.4k

genre: fluff

cw: none!

summary: Maybe Lucifer could allow himself to indulge every now and then.

other notes: no name, Y/N or MC used // AO3 // thanks again to @gravedwe11er for helping me so much with this fic!

Lucifer wondered what had happened to him; why did his chest feel so warm and fuzzy when he looked at you, peacefully asleep on the couch in his study? He was the Avatar of Pride, the third most powerful demon in all of the Devildom, and yet you had wormed your way into his heart, made yourself home with frightening ease as if this was what you had been made for.

Crouching in front of the couch, he took in your sleeping form, the serene look on your face. How you were able to let your guard down in his presence, to be so trusting despite everything that had happened, everything he had done, was a mystery to him. Was he even deserving of the trust, the kindness you bestowed upon him?

With a gentle touch that contrasted his strength, he brushed a stray strand of hair from your forehead. You stirred a little and he froze, holding his breath.

“Mh… Lucifer…?” you muttered sleepily, and your eyelids fluttered open.

Seeing your bleary gaze, he couldn't help but smile fondly, stroking your cheek with his index finger.

“Apologies, my dear, I didn't mean to wake you,” he responded in a hushed tone. “Go back to sleep.”

Humming in agreement, you closed your eyes again and Lucifer chuckled softly before standing up to return to work. However, he didn't get very far. Your hand had reached for his pants, tugging on them, and he crouched down, regarding you with an attentive, yet curious expression.

“What is it?” he asked quietly.

“Are you done?” you whispered, seemingly a little more awake now.

“Soon, I promise,” he soothed.

“You said the same thing earlier,” you grumbled, pouting.

He sighed. “I know I did and I apologize for taking longer. I assure you, I will be done soon. Be patient for me, will you?”

When that didn’t make your pout disappear, he cupped your face with one hand, and pressed his lips against yours briefly, before placing multiple small kisses on your cheekbone. You giggled at that and Lucifer observed the blush on your face, the way the corners of your mouth were curving upwards.

“There it is. As much as I adore seeing that pretty little pout on your lips, I would much rather see you smile.”

The flush coloring your features grew more pronounced and you grasped his hand that was resting on your cheek to hide yourself from him. A pleasant tingling sensation spread through him as you nuzzled his palm and placed a kiss on the pad of his thumb.

Lucifer's gaze softened and he allowed his touch to linger for a moment longer, savoring the feeling of your breaths on his skin, before he withdrew, straightening up. “Sleep now. I will be done by the time you wake up again.”

“I'll hold you to that,” you mumbled as he watched you shift on the couch to get comfortable. Once your eyes were shut, he quietly returned to his desk and resumed working, occasionally glancing at your slumbering form.

He didn't quite know whether you were a distraction that kept him from finishing his work or more of a motivation to get it done as soon as possible. Perhaps you were both at the same time. With a silent sigh, he focused his attention back on the documents spread out in front of him, and the sound of a pen scratching on paper filled the room, sometimes interrupted by a soft rustling when he had finished a page.

Even as Lucifer worked diligently, he listened closely to your steady breaths, his heightened senses easily picking up on the faint noise. Whenever he heard the pattern of your breathing change just a little, he paused what he was doing to check on you, making sure you were alright and not waking up.

Eventually, he finally wrote the last words on a document, and to his relief, you were still fast asleep. He started putting everything aside, cleaning the desk as he always did once he completed his work. Despite his efforts to do so quietly, you stirred awake again, sitting up and rubbing your face tiredly.

“Are you done now?” you asked, voice heavy with sleep.

“I am,” he responded softly, smiling to himself at the sight of your weary form. “Shall we go to bed?” he suggested as he stood up, walking towards you, and offering you his hand to help you up. Lucifer observed your gaze briefly dart down to it, then back to his eyes, your lips pursed.

“What's the matter?” he inquired.

“Carry me,” you simply replied, looking at him expectantly.

Huffing in amusement, he shook his head with an indulgent smile. “Well, aren't you a demanding one?” Bending down, he moved one arm underneath your legs and the other around your waist, allowing you to loop your arms over his shoulders. With ease, he lifted you up, cradling you securely against his chest, and started carrying you.

“Maybe I am. But I know you wouldn't want it any other way,” you retorted lightly, pecking his cheek before nestling your face into the crook of his neck.

Glancing at you out of the corner of his eye, his lips quirked upwards. “I suppose you are right. And perhaps this is how I can make amends for letting you sleep on that uncomfortable couch. I do apologize for taking so long. Mammon’s… shenanigans have caused more paperwork than I had anticipated.”

Sighing heavily, he wondered what punishment would be appropriate this time, in spite of him knowing full well that even the harshest consequences could never discourage Mammon - or any of his younger brothers for that matter - from causing trouble. He could already feel a headache coming on.

His train of thought was disrupted by the sensation of you yawning against his skin, and he immediately felt the tension that had been building up inside of him melt away again.

“Tired, are we, my dear?” Lucifer asked, his voice low and amused as he gently squeezed you closer to him.

“It’s pretty late, so, yeah,” was your mumbled reply.

He hummed in agreement as he reached his bedroom and placed you on the mattress of his large bed, where you promptly crawled under the blanket and curled up.

“It is rather late, yes. Fortunately, there is no RAD tomorrow, so feel free to sleep in,” he said while unbuttoning his waistcoat to get more comfortable.

As he worked on the buttons, he could sense your eyes on him, your brow furrowed as if contemplating something. Before he could ask what was on your mind, you spoke up. “And you? Will you sleep in as well?” You glanced at him, the expression you wore telling him that you knew he would most likely give you a negative answer.

Not immediately replying and averting his gaze, he slowly opened the last button, taking the waistcoat off and folding it, before setting it aside. It was silent as he thought about the paperwork still waiting for him in his study and the additional work that would inevitably come during the day.

When he settled on the edge of the bed, he looked back at you, seeing the disappointment forming in your eyes.

“I will,” Lucifer finally answered, lying down next to you and joining you beneath the blanket.

At first, it was almost as if the words didn’t register in your mind, but then happiness bloomed on your face, and just the sight of you smiling like this already made up for the extra stress that he would have to deal with. You squeaked cheerfully and shifted closer, wrapping your arms around him. Chuckling in amusement, he returned the embrace and held you tightly against him. He nuzzled your hair, kissing the top of your head and tracing his hands along your spine.

Just this once, he thought to himself as he turned the light off with a flick of his hand, plunging the room into darkness, just this once will I allow myself this indulgence.

“I love you,” you whispered, your breaths tickling his neck as you made yourself comfortable next to him.

“And I love you,” he responded quietly, his voice laced with affection. He buried his face in your hair, and tightened his hold on you, drifting off to sleep with a smile on his lips.

Just this once, he told himself.

#jayden-writes #why did I write fluff again lol #obey me #obey me fanfic #obey me fanfiction #obey me fluff #omswd lucifer #obey me lucifer #gender neutral reader #no gendered pronouns #no y/n #obey me lucifer x you #obey me lucifer x mc #obey me lucifer x reader #obey me nightbringer #reader insert #obey me x reader #gender neutral mc

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ichorai · 5 months

Text

airbag ; steve rogers.

track one of OK COMPUTER.

pairing ; steve rogers x reader (gender-neutral)

synopsis ; five time steve tries to propose to you, and one time he actually does.

words ; 4.3k

themes ; fluff, mild angst, kind of avengers tower au?

warnings / includes ; mentions/descriptions of injury, alcohol, lots of lovesick fluff, rest of avengers are mentioned, natasha and tony Meddling, reference to spider-man & sandman :)

main masterlist.

Steve considered himself a romantic of sorts. Call him old-fashioned, but he liked bringing you flowers, he liked taking you to the theater, and he liked walking you home—all the way up to your door and listening for the lock, so he knew you’d be safe in there.

It was only fitting how cliché it felt when he realized he was in love with you. Firework-igniting kisses and butterfly-filled tummies and face-splitting grins. Everything described in those movies you enjoyed watching—but so much more.

Steve Rogers wasn’t a man to waste time. After all—enough of that had been done while he was frozen in the ice. If he was going to start something, then he was most definitely going to go all the way and finish it, too.

Almost immediately after your first anniversary, he bought a ring. It was simple and classic, maybe a bit out of style but hey, you seemed to be into that. You were dating a century-year-old.

It was December then, soft snow lining the streets and piling upon naked tree branches. During the drive to the fancy restaurant he’d found (courtesy of Tony), there were children building snowmen and sledding down shallow hills. You smiled watching them, eyes rife with fond warmth, and Steve knew then that he had to do it. He had to propose to you tonight.

Inside, you wouldn’t stop telling him how underdressed you felt, but Steve reassured you by saying a simple, “You look perfect, I promise.”

And he wasn’t lying. You did look perfect to him.

Dinner consisted of several decadent courses, with the waiters serving platters the two of you could barely even pronounce. It was delicious, nonetheless, and the chef had even come by to shake the hand of the Captain America.

During the last course—a silken slice of chocolate cake for dessert—Steve slipped his hand into his suit’s pocket, the velvet box smooth beneath his fingers. He replayed the question over and over again in his head, rehearsed a million times prior to the dinner.

Will you marry me?

And just as he was about to pull the ring box out, another diner pushed his chair back just far enough to accidentally knock into a waiter passing by, holding a plate of spaghetti. Completely sauced, to top.

To Steve’s horror, the plate tipped, almost in slow motion, and fell with a wet, splattering noise all over your outfit. You’d let out a small yelp of surprise, the spaghetti was hot, but not enough to burn. Steve stood up a second too late, hand falling away from his pocket as he rounded the table and placed it on your shoulder, asking if you were okay.

“I’m okay,” you told him gently, reaching over to grab a few napkins at the center of your table.

You didn’t get mad, of course you didn’t—it was part of the reason Steve loved you so much—instead, you were kind and patient, reassuring the flustered waiter that it was alright. “Mistakes happen,” you said. Another waiter came by a few minutes later with a few damp cloths so you could wipe the rest of the spaghetti sauce off.

Needless to say, the chef insisted that the meal was on the house that night, much to Steve’s chagrin.

The drive back home smelled of marinara sauce and oregano, but the heavy weight in his chest at the failed proposal seemed to lighten when you joked about how the five course meal ended up being six.

Natasha knew about the ring. Steve wasn’t quite sure how—he’d never explicitly told her—but then again, he wasn’t surprised. Nat seemed to always just know things from the smallest of details. It was why she made such a brilliant spy.

“So,” she’d said once she stumbled across from Steve in the Avenger Tower’s lavish gym, a sly grin stretching over her lips, “when are you popping the question?”

There was a pause to his movements—the dumbbell he’d been curling hovered in the air, his muscles tensing. He thought about it for a little longer, considering asking her how she knew but—he seemed to sense that Natasha would wave it away with a laugh and a light, “A magician never reveals her secrets.”

Instead, he told the red-head, “I’m working on it.”

Natasha leaned against a treadmill, arms crossing over her chest. The smile on her face seemed to grow even wider. “Uh-huh. How long have you had the ring?”

Steve resumed doing his reps. The burn felt nice, even if it was only barely there. “Long enough.”

There was a soft tenderness to Natasha’s eyes, and she bumped a fist into his bicep. “Take Y/N hiking. Far away from the city, where it’s quiet.”

Again, Steve paused his exercise. Slow, he put the weights down, thinking over her words.

“That’s actually—that’s a good idea, Nat.”

“Of course it is.” There was a knowing glint in her eyes.

“Thanks, really. I just want things to be perfect.”

She dipped her head once, before climbing onto the treadmill. “Send pictures. I’ve got a bet going on—Clint would want proof.”

Steve spared her an amused roll of his eyes. With a wave and a hurried goodbye, Steve rushed out of the gym to take a quick shower. The weather app on his phone (that he took an embarrassingly long time to find) told him the skies were going to be clear that afternoon—perfect for hiking.

Maybe, hopefully, perfect for proposals.

Half an hour later, you were ready to go, too, bouncing on the balls of your feet excitedly.

“I packed us sandwiches.”

“Did you? Oh, great—thanks, honey. We could have them as an early dinner.” He rubbed your shoulder and nudged you into the car.

“I packed a bunch of snacks, too.”

Steve arched a brow. “Like?”

“Gummy worms, popcorn, chips, cookies. Oh, and Wanda actually made something for us, I’m not really sure what it is, but it smelled nice—”

Your words died away when Steve laughed, loud and chesty. Of course you’d pack just about the entire pantry. How you managed to stuff all of that into your travel backpack with room to spare was beyond him. You couldn’t help but break out into an infectious smile when he leaned forward to kiss you on the forehead.

The drive out of the city to the hiking trail was long, and you nearly dozed off if not for the road getting progressively bumpier the closer you got.

The sun was high in the sky by the time you arrived. You slipped out of the car with a pleased hum and stretched out your limbs, ready to get the hike over and done with. You might’ve been dating a superhuman, but you had no powers of your own. The pressure to keep up was something always in the back of your mind.

And that’s how the hike went—you were determined to stay on par with Steve, no matter how grueling the terrain became. Even when he suggested a break to have some of the many snacks you’d packed, you tossed him your bag and kept trekking on—you were worried that if you stopped, you would never get back up again.

Really, you shouldn’t have overexerted yourself this quickly—the two of you were barely halfway done with the trail. Your feet were starting to drag, and your pace grew staggered. Just as you turned around to face your boyfriend and ask for a breather, your foot caught on a tree root that poked up above the trail’s surface, and you stumbled forward.

Thankfully, Steve’s quick reflexes came in handy, and he darted forward to grab you before you could go rolling down the steep hills.

He tugged you close into his chest, not yet registering your wince of pain. “Are you okay? That was a close one!”

When you pulled away, you gingerly tried to test your wait on the foot, but quickly lifted it back up with a grimace. “Oh, God. I think I’ve rolled my ankle.”

Steve stiffened, glancing further up the trail. It was maybe another two hours, but that was only with two fully-functioning pairs of legs.

The proposal would have to wait another day, then.

He cupped your face, soft and gentle. “Wrap your arms around my neck from behind. I’ll carry you down to the car.”

“You sure, Stevie? I can try hopping down on one foot.” You tried to demonstrate, but nearly lost your balance again. All the jostling sent bolts of pain down your foot, which surely wasn’t a good sign, either.

He snorted, huff-laughing, other hand slipping over your waist to keep you still. “I’m sure. Come on.” He leaned down expectantly.

Relenting, you wrapped your arms over his shoulders and hooked the inside of your thighs over his waist, careful to keep your injured foot extended so it wouldn’t bump into him. It was beginning to throb.

“‘M sorry,” you mumbled, resting your cheek over his shoulder, one of your hands lifting to toy with his short, blonde hair. He began to walk down, and you tried your best to ignore the pain in your ankle. “Ruined our hiking trip. I was so excited.”

“It’s okay, honey. It was an accident! We can always go another time. Maybe a different trail, though.”

You apologized again, the whole way down, in fact, despite his assurances that he wasn’t at all tired. He really wasn’t—barely broke a sweat during the descent. Besides, he quite liked the feeling of your holding so tight onto him, your nose pressed into the side of his neck, your soft laughter brushing over his skin in one moment, your slight winces in the next.

“I love you,” you whispered, lips brushing the shell of his ear.

He felt a shiver traverse down his back, and briefly wondered if you felt it, too.

“I love you, too. That tickles, though.”

Your laugh was abrupt and ever so heart-warming. “Sorry.”

The movie, you’d told him, was a cult classic from the seventies. Steve couldn’t really remember what it was called. Callie? Cassie? It was an awful lot of blood. The arm he had wound over your shoulder squeezed you every time someone screamed in the film—which was… startlingly often.

Proposing in the middle of a gorey movie wasn’t exactly the romantic vision Steve had in mind, but since the previous attempts really didn’t work in his favor, he wondered if keeping it casual was the best way to go. So when you asked if he could come over for an abrupt movie night, he readily agreed—and brought the small, velvet ring box with him.

It was tucked safely in the pocket of his slacks, on the side you weren’t pressed up against. The weight was a constant reminder of what he wanted to ask you—occupying his mind away from the movie he should’ve been paying attention to.

He’d propose once the credits started rolling. Yes, that’d be best, right? Wouldn’t want a horrified scream interrupting his profession of undying love to you.

And so he watched. He watched and watched, absentmindedly wondering what on earth the movie was even about. He dragged his knuckles up and down your arm. When a particularly gruesome scene unfolded, Steve glanced over at you.

To his surprise, your features were softened with sleep, only barely illuminated by the crimson glow from the television, your lips slightly parted and eyes shut.

With gentle movements, Steve reached over to guide your head onto his shoulder. Your hair tickled his cheek, and he let out a soft puff of a sigh before smiling. He kissed your temple, nose resting over your forehead.

The proposal would have to wait another day.

Tony’s parties were always an affair that Steve looked forward to. He wasn’t a party-goer by any means, but he found that the grand events were a great way for him to catch up with all his colleagues, acquaintances, and work associates he otherwise wouldn’t have spoken to for months to come.

And, of course, your excitement always seemed to rub off on him. You were buzzing about the room with what looked like twenty different outfits hanging off of your arms, holding them between you and the mirror with a scrutinizing look.

“Tucked or untucked?” you asked, more to yourself than him. He wasn’t given the chance to respond, anyway, since you chucked the shirt somewhere behind you and promptly started looking for another.

When you’d finally settled for appropriately formal attire, and Steve slipped into a button-up dress shirt (which was his one and only option, much to your envy), the two of you set off for Tony’s.

The party was already in full swing by the time you got there. Steve wasn’t entirely sure what the event was for—an anniversary or birthday, maybe? Fundraising gala? A celebration of some sort of scientific breakthrough Steve couldn’t even begin to comprehend? It was always a toss-up with Tony.

You were greeting people here and there, stopping to chatter amicably about what you’ve been up to, how work was going, the latest shows you’ve been catching up with…

And then you kissed his cheek and told him you were going to go grab some drinks. Steve watched you go with fond eyes. You looked incredible tonight.

A hand on his shoulder jolted him out of his reverie, and Tony Stark’s smug face came into view.

“Enjoying the party?” he asked, sly and knowing. What did he know?

“Hey, Tony. We only just got here. What’s all this for, by the way?” Steve crossed his arms and glanced around for any telltale signs.

A smirk flitted across his expression. “Just thought we all needed a bit of social activity pumped into the team. It’s a great place to… get your courage up, hm?” Tony smiled, and Steve narrowed his eyes.

“Did Natasha tell you?”

Tony snorted. “We all know.”

“Great.” Steve slid his hand into his pocket and traced the smooth grooves of the ring box. “Is everyone expecting me to propose tonight?”

“No, pfft—we don’t want to pressure you or anything…” Tony pointedly glanced at a stage conveniently placed front and center of the room. “But if you need some, what should I call it… assistance, the stage is all yours to use.”

Steve balked. Proposing at a party was one thing, but proposing on a stage in front of hundreds of people was completely out of the question.

Or was it?

“I’m not going to propose on a stage. That’s more your style.”

With a shrug, Tony rolled his eyes. “I mean, Pepper hasn’t left me yet, has she?”

Steve chose not to grace him with a response, but frown-smiled when Tony grabbed a flute of champagne and shoved it into his hands. He was gone the next second, off to greet a new round of guests.

Thirty seconds later, you appeared by his side, positively beaming, but slightly out of breath. There were two chilled glasses clutched in your hands, almost sloshing over with how quickly you bounded to him.

“Oh, you already got a drink?” you asked, grinning. You clinked both glasses against his, chiming, “Cheers!”

And as you were downing the sugary alcohol in your right hand, Steve ran a finger along the ring box again.

Maybe… maybe it really wasn’t a bad idea. He looked back at the stage. There was a microphone stand on there. Has it been there since the beginning?

He turned his head back to you, and you told him about Banner inviting the two of you over for dinner some time. Just as he was about to reply, his phone started buzzing in his other pocket. Deftly, Steve slipped his hand away from the box and went to pick up the phone—Sam’s caller ID staring up at him.

His friend’s voice sounded strained through the phone, and Steve gripped your hand and led you to a more quiet hallway, away from the crowd and the thrum of music.

Sam hurriedly told him that there was trouble downtown—something about Spider-Man and a very sandy guy.

“Sandy?”

“Yeah. Dude’s made of sand.”

“Oh.” Steve paused, brows furrowing. “I’ll be there in twenty. Can you keep it together till then?”

“Don’t have another choice, do I, Cap?”

With that, Sam hung up. Steve looked to you, crestfallen.

“Honey, I gotta go.”

Your voice was light and airy, despite your slightly crestfallen and confused countenance. “Sam’s in trouble?”

“Yeah. I’ll—” There was an uncertain pause. Steve leaned forward to press a chaste kiss to your forehead. “I’ll see you at home. I love you.”

Your brows pulled together. “I love you, too. Stay safe, Steve.”

It was something you just had to accustom yourself to—when your boyfriend was a superhero, his priorities encompassed far more than you. But you understood, as you always did, and let him hurry away with a stiff lip.

The hospital was packed. Claustrophobically dense. You hurriedly wove through the crowd of anxious people hovering around the information desk, having already gotten the text which room Steve was in.

A few twisting hallways later, you pushed through a door and just about collapsed with relief when your eyes landed on Steve.

He was badly bruised. Hues of deep purple and faint blues were blossomed all over his face. One of his eyes was swollen, his sandy-blonde hair was tousled, and his bottom lip was split. He was wearing a hospital gown, and you felt nauseated wondering just what other injuries he was hiding beneath the fabric.

But he was alive. That was the least you’d hoped for.

Tears pricked your eyes, and you only then registered that Bucky was there, standing by the bed, expression grim and steeled. His blue eyes darted away from his best friend’s face to meet yours.

“I’ll give you two some space,” he murmured with a tight edge to his voice. Bucky patted your shoulder and whisked off before you could say anything.

“Steve?” you croaked, drawing nearer to the bed. Your throat felt tight. “Oh, God…”

Despite his entire face aching, Steve managed to tug one of the corners of his lips up into a meager smile. “Hey, honey.”

His voice sounded hoarse and overused, but was still utter music to your ears. You just about collapsed onto the side of the bed, reaching out to gently brush the back of your shaking knuckles over what little of his face wasn’t bruised.

“I heard what happened on the news,” came your tearful whisper. “I was so worried you…”

Something softened within the blue of his eyes. “I’m still here.”

You dipped forward to press a soft kiss to his forehead, and his tired eyes slid shut.

“Has a doctor checked on you yet? Any permanent damage I have to look out for?” You pulled away so you could roam your eyes over his form once more.

“Just a few bruises. Bone fractures. Nothing I can’t recover from,” he replied, though he winced when he tried to shift and sit more upright. You placed a hand on his back and helped him move, cautiously slow.

“Take it easy, old man,” you warned. “Don’t want you to pop a hip.”

Steve wheezed out what seemed like a laugh. Then, his eyes darted to the bedside table, where some spare clothes were neatly packed in a bag. Bucky had brought them, making sure to hide the ring box safely underneath a few layers.

Should he? Now, when he had the chance?

“I have something to ask you…” he began, tentative, dragging his eyes back onto you. You tilted your head pointedly, beckoning for him to go on.

Just as he was about to say the words, there were three rapid knocks to the hospital room’s doors and they creaked open immediately after, two nurses shuffling in, clipboards in hand.

“Hello, just here to run a few more check-ups!” one of them chirped. “It’s not often we get a super admitted in here.”

Steve just about physically deflated. Your brows kinked, and you patted his cheek fondly.

“I’ll come by later—gonna go see if Sam is okay. You should rest, Stevie. Love you.” With one final kiss to his cheek, you got up from his bed and made space for the bustling nurses. He barely managed to lift his hand to wave you goodbye before you hurried out of the room, back into the packed hallways.

A month had drifted by since he wound up in the hospital (and discharged the very next day). It was pleasantly breezy that day—gusts of wind tousling his now-overgrown hair and whistling sweetly in your ears.

Steve bent at the waist to place the bouquet of flowers down in front of the headstone. If it were any windier, he was sure it would’ve blown away. But it stayed put, the petals only barely swaying to and fro, and he righted himself back up.

“Sarah Rogers,” you whispered, eyes trailing across the smooth grooves of her name indented into the slab, voice thick with fondness. “What did she look like?”

Your arm wounded over the small of his waist. The two of you had visited the cemetery a few months prior, where you helped him scrub all the moss and dirt from her headstone. He told you about many of his adventures with Bucky before his time frozen in the ice, but very little about his mother.

A wistful smile touched the corner of his face. Now fully healed, much to your relief.

“She was blonde. Blue eyes. Crow lines, I think. Really faint, but they appeared every time she laughed.” There was a nostalgic warmth to his tone.

“Took after her, then.” You beamed down at the grave. “She must’ve been beautiful.”

Steve leaned into your grasp and kissed the very top of your head. “She was. She would’ve loved you, you know.”

“Yeah?”

“She would’ve thought you were perfect. She saw a lot of terrible things in her lifetime, but you—you would’ve made her laugh a lot.” A pause. The wind hummed a disjointed tune. “She always believed in me, even though she was terrified for me all the time. Worried herself sick. If only she knew I’d end up here…”

Your head landed on his bicep. “She knows. She knew from the very beginning.”

The blonde smiled at you again, and you couldn’t help but notice his crow lines, too. It was comforting to know that there was so much of his mother in him.

“You ready for lunch?”

“I’m starving.” you told him, before blowing a chaste kiss to the headstone. “See you soon, Mrs. Rogers.”

Steve began to lead you away, and he couldn’t seem to scratch the smile from his lips. The two of you started walking back home, taking your sweet time. You were saying something—something about a nice lasagna you had frozen in the fridge—

But Steve could barely hear any of it. He couldn’t hold it back anymore. He had to tell you now.

“I love you,” he interrupted. The words died on your tongue and you regarded him curiously, as if he’d grown a second head.

Apparently, there was a near manic look to his eye that prompted you to worriedly query, “Is something wrong, Steve—?”

Instead of answering, Steve stopped walking. He dropped down onto one knee, brandishing the ring box from his pocket, flicking it open. The realization broke across your features just a second later. Your eyes widened, and you reared back in shock.

And the words—the words just came tumbling out. Not at all what he’d scripted for months on end, but something entirely different. Something raw and unfiltered—purely from his heart. “I love you, more than I can ever put into words. You’re just—amazing, perfect in every goddamn way. I don’t want to go another day without calling you mine. I want to be yours, honey. All of me, every single bit of me, with all of you. It’s been an honor being your boyfriend. Really, it has, but I’m… I’m ready to be your husband, if you’ll have me. Will you marry me?”

There were tears pricking the corners of your eyes. You were only but a streak of color before you were yanking him forward, practically burying his face against your chest. He didn’t care that there was a rock digging into his knee. Barely even felt it.

The next moment, you were pulling away to yank him back up, kissing him like he was the very air you needed to breathe.

“Is that a yes?” he asked against your lips, slightly muffled. He was smiling, because he already knew your answer.

You nodded into the kiss, refusing to pull away. “I’d marry you a million times over, Steve. Again and again and again, until you get sick of me.”

“Could never get sick of you,” he whispered, forehead leaning over yours. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

The two of you broke apart minutes later, reluctantly, though you had permanent smiles etched across your faces the entire way back home. The ring fit you perfectly.

When the news broke to the rest of the Avengers, they all erupted into an array of groans and cheers, and multiple wads of cash were passed around. Natasha sent the two of you a pleased wink. You two just landed her a combined total of a hundred bucks, but some secrets were simply better left unsaid.

#steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers x reader #marvel fanfiction #avengers fanfiction #avengers x reader #steve rogers fluff #steve rogers angst #steve rogers fanfic #captain america x reader #captain america fanfiction #steve rogers imagines #steve rogers oneshot #steve rogers drabbles #steve rogers ff #steve rogers x you

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lesbianloml · 6 months

Text

my babysitter au

the first kiss

types of piece(s): imagine, oneshot, drabble, series

type(s) of writing: smut, angst, fluff, dark (the story will contain all of the above)

pairing(s): milf!dom!dark!wanda maximoff x innocent!sub!immune!witch!fem!reader

warning(s): legal age gap (wanda is 33, reader is 21), obsessive wanda, sorta pervy wanda, maybe?, nothing mostly fluff and plot shit

summary: wanda met you for the first time three days ago. when she runs into you again at the bake sale at the elementary school, she is thrilled. but wanda is overjoyed when the two of you make a deal that will let her see you everyday.

a/n: I know I've been gone FOREVER but I'm back with part 2 of this series. I hope you guys like it, and if you have any ideas or requests, let me know!

you groan as you lean over and press snooze on your alarm. 5am is way too early to wake up, but you need to finish baking and packaging all the treats for the bake sale this afternoon. you sigh, before climbing out of bed and beginning your morning routine. you shower, put on a cute brown mini dress before heading to the café. you sigh as you look around the empty shop, before pulling on an apron and starting your work.

*hours later*

you startle awake at the sound of your phone ringing. you gasp as you check the time. its 3:30pm, the bake sale starts in 30 minutes, and you haven't even begun to load everything up and set up your table. you check the caller id. dottie. you sigh heavily before answering the call. "hello?" you ask, your voice sugary sweet. "y/n y/l/n! where in the world are you? you were supposed to be here an hour ago to help set up! you're 21 years old, you should be more responsible than this!" as dottie rambles on and on, you sigh. "dottie? give me 5 minutes, I'm on my way." you hang up, ignoring her protests as you quickly load your car with the wrapped treats from the bakery, all made by you.

you speed down the road, and quickly turn into the almost full school parking lot. you scramble out of your car and as you close your door, you turn to be face to face with wanda. "wanda! you scared me!" wanda smiles at your expression. "sorry, detka. you're here for the bake sale right?" wanda asks, looking at you with a look you're unable to read. "yup thats what im here for." wanda turns quickly as two boys come speeding around the parking lot. "billy, tommy! come here. I have someone i want you to meet." you gasp as the boys come speeding past you, a silver blue blur before coming to a halt in front of you.

"y/n, this is billy and tommy. billy and tommy, this is y/n." you smile, looking at them both kindly. "which one of you is super speedy?" you ask. "I am!" tommy pronounces proudly. "would you two like to help me set up my booth?" "we would love to, y/n!" billy says. strangely formal for a 10 year old, but you don't question it. for the next 15 minutes, you spend with the boys, laughing and giggling at tommy's antics as they help you set up your booth. it gets done much quicker with the maximoff's help then it's would've if you had done it alone.

you smile at the sight of your booth, ready just in time as all the parents and children begin filing in. "as a thank you for your help, you three get first pick of the treats." you say, gesturing to the variety of sweet treats you have set out on your table. tommy immediately goes for a huge triple chocolate cookie. you laugh, sharing a shy glance with wanda. billy walks slowly over to the table, and carefully surveys his options before choosing a cupcake with sprinkles. wanda walks over to the table after the boys scatter to go say hi to their friends. wanda grabs a cinnamon pastry and pops it in her mouth. her eyes brighten as she chews slowly. "did you make all of this on your own, y/n?" you smile sheepishly. "yes, i did. do you like it?" you ask, subtly asking for her approval. as wanda finishes chewing, she lets out a soft moan of satisfaction. a faint blush coats your cheeks at the noise, your eyes drifting to places they shouldn't.

"y/n? did you hear me?" wanda asks sweetly. people are beginning to drift over to your booth, the wonderful delectable smells drawing them. "sorry wanda. what was that?" you turn your attention to her for a moment before beginning to serve the customers in front of you. "i would just like to speak to you after the bake sale, ok darling?" dottie approaches the table, eyes on wanda to drag her off somewhere. "of course wanda! ill meet you in a little while" you say, flashing her a sweet smile. you continue serving the lengthy growing line in front of you, your attention drifting back to where it needs to be.

wanda's jaw drops as she sees you in your car speeding around the corner. wanda walks swiftly over to your car, standing behind your car door. "wanda! you scared me!" wanda smiles at your face expression. just you saying her name in your pretty little voice, it slipping out your plump lips. it makes her want to bend you over right here and make you scream it. "sorry, detka. you're here for the bake sale aren't you?" she mentally curses herself. what a stupid question, of course that's what you're here for. she feels like an idiot, but you don't even seem to notice. "yup, that's what i'm here for!" wanda hears tommy and billy giggling, and she wants you to meet her sons more than anything in that moment. if her plan works, soon you and her sons were going to be well acquainted.

"billy, tommy! come here, i have someone i want you to meet." wanda smiles when you gasp as the boys come speeding past you in a silver blue blur. "y/n, this is billy and tommy. billy and tommy, this is y/n." wanda watches as you smile widely, then give them a teasing look. "which one of you is super speedy?" you ask. "i am!" tommy pronounces proudly. "would you two like to help me set up my booth?" "we would love to, y/n!" billy says. wanda chuckles softly at billy. so formal, so sweet. for the next 15 minutes, wanda and her boys spend time with you, laughing and giggling together at tommy's antics as they help you set up your booth. wanda is thrilled at how well you, billy, and tommy are getting along. you guys almost seem best friends already.

wanda watches you smile at the booth setup, happy that you like it. "as a thank you for your help, you three get first pick of the treats." wanda's smile widens as tommy immediately goes for the huge triple chocolate cookie. he's so predictable. you laugh, and wanda shares a glance with you. you're so shy, so beautiful it makes her want to scream. billy walks slowly over to the table, and carefully surveys his options before choosing a cupcake with sprinkles. utterly predictable. wanda walks over to the table after the boys scatter to go say hi to their friends. wanda grabs a cinnamon pastry and pops it in her mouth. her eyes brighten as she chews slowly. it is incredible. she's almost shocked. "did you make all of this on your own, y/n?" wanda asks, her voice filled with wonder. you smile sheepishly. "yes, i did. do you like it?" you ask, subtly asking for her approval.

how cute. wanda knew you would be the perfect wife for her. as wanda finishes chewing, she lets out a soft moan of satisfaction. she knows what she's doing as a faint blush coats your cheeks at the noise. she watches your eyes drift to the places she wants them to be glued to the most. "can i talk to you after the bake sale?" wanda asks, but notices your attention trailing. "y/n? did you hear me?" wanda asks sweetly. people are beginning to drift over to your booth, the wonderful delectable smells drawing them. "sorry wanda. what was that?" your attention is on her for a moment before you begin to serve the customers in front of you. you're so sweet. wanda thinks so many dirty thoughts about you, that she wants to say to you now. she restrains herself, not wanting to scare you away. "i would just like to speak to you after the bake sale, ok darling?" wanda almost lets out a groan of dread when dottie approaches the table, her predatory gaze fixed. "of course wanda! ill meet you in a little while!" as dottie drags wanda away, wanda's gaze is fixed on you the entire time, hearts in her eyes.

after the bake sale, you and wanda meet up in the parking lot. the boys are konked out in the back of wanda's suv, their sugar high short lived. "what did you want to talk about wanda?" you ask, shivering as the fall chill falls over you. wanda immediately removes her jacket, offering it to you. "here detka. wouldn't want you to be chilly." wanda waits for you to slip it on before speaking again. "i wanted to offer you a job. i've found a job downtown, and I was just wondering if you'd like to start babysitting billy and tommy during the week or whenever I need it. my job requires a lot of travel. and of course, I would pay you double what you make right now at the café.." wanda rambles, but her breath catches as you lay a sweet hand on her arm. "oh wanda, I would love to! I already feel so close with billy and tommy, like I've known them for years. maybe we could meet up sometime over coffee and talk some more? i'm sure you're eager to head home." you say, nodding to the boys sleeping in the back of wanda's car.

wanda nods. "of course. that would be perfect, sweetheart. here, ill put my number in your phone. ill text you, okay?" you smile, handing wanda your phone. wanda enters her number, and hands your phone back to you. you stand there for a moment, your thoughts conflicting. you make up your mind, and quickly lay a light kiss on wanda's cheek before walking to your car. you will never know how that single kiss rocked wanda's world, and how it would soon lead to yours being turned upside down.

remember, asks and requests are open! i love to hear from you guys! <3

#dark wanda maximoff #mommy wanda #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff smut #dark wanda smut #dom!wanda #top!wanda #mommy wanda smut #wanda smut #wanda x you #wanda maximoff x female reader #scarlet witch smut #scarlet witch #wanda maximommy #wandavision #wanda x reader #wandanat #wanda marvel #wanda maximov

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