#only slightly smutty
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I make myself blush whenever I reread something I wrote.
#I might even be slightly embarrassed#like how I made aki tease reader by telling them to kiss the tip only#it’s not even that smutty but still#lela thoughts
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🐰 [[[♠] ⅩℒⅠⅩ [♥]]] 🐰
❝ Humans are rather funny little creatures, ne? You start to think, 'hey, this ones a little more rational than the rest!', and then the bias hits them. It never fails. ❞
#ic#musings#{--protip: if you want to lose faith in humanity overnight#be an online community admin lol#even better#be an online community admin where your members have a clique#that you're not part of#and nobody ever cares what you're doing because you're not writing smut or lesbians or smutty lesbians#its fine tho since I only joined to keep troublemakers in line for a friend#I guess I can call this mission accomplished#disappointed but not even slightly surprised#I could read the room just fine months ago and this is about the treatment I expected to get#its good to know people continue to never fail to meet my predictions#I am once again channeling Lavi as my spirit animal--}
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PLEASE Spencer answering a work call in the middle of sex??? Super smutty
just wanna say that this is my first request and it makes me feel special so thank you !!! hopefully you like this <3
pairing: spencer reid x reader
warnings: 18+ nsfw smut, porn with small plot, afab reader, fingering, p in v sex, post prison spence, riding, doggy style, and missionary (yall were busy), spitting kink !!, spanking (once?), face slapping (i’m not sorry), slight oral (f receiving), lots of pet names (baby, angel, pretty girl), let me know if i missed anything !!
word count: 1.8k (got a little carried away)
also note to everyone- y’all absolutely devoured my spencer post the other day, a little less than 800 notes last i checked, and i just want to say i was very caught off guard and appreciate it so much !!
+ i apologize for the overuse of commas & very limited vocabulary,, i feel like i used the same 10 words smh
+ NOT PROOF READ !!
~~~
“i was able to talk to the brass about getting the week off. the past few weeks have been tough and i think we all need a well deserved break.”
you were all gathered in the round table room for a meeting emily called. in the past two weeks, the team had been assigned three back to back cases; which meant three different unsubs, three different cities, and three different hotel rooms. you hadn’t slept in your own bed in fifteen days, already feeling giddy at the thought of snuggling up in your bed, binge watching mindless reality tv, and fueling yourself with nothing but sweet treats.
matt was the first to speak, already standing up gathering his things from the table, “as much as i love you all i’m going to rush home to the wife and kids, i miss their little faces”
you all followed suit, collecting all of your belongings and saying your goodbyes, all of you raving about your week off plans. you walked to your desk, grabbing your bag and keys. you walked towards the elevator, pressing the down button, watching it slowly fall from floor 10 to floor 9, before tapping your foot, slightly agitated about how long it seemed to be taking.
you heard footsteps heading your way, small taps on sneakers on the slick marble floor, before felt a slight nudge at your side “you know, being mad at it won’t make it work any faster”
you chuckle looking up, making eye contact with spencer before giving him a small grin. “i’m just really ready to get home.”
the elevator doors open, spencer waved his hand up, allowing you to go first, before following you in and pressing the main lobby button. “you in such a rush because you have a hot date to get to?”
you looked up at him and grinned, you felt spencer’s hand move to your back, rubbing the center in small circles with your thumb. you felt your face get hot and you allowed yourself to slightly lean into his touch. the elevator stopped at the lobby, a small chime signaling the doors opening, and you felt spencer’s hand fall back to his side before you both stepped out of the box.
you both made your way to the parking garage, spencer walking you to your car before he headed towards the station to take the subway. you got to your car, unlocking it and throwing your purse inside before looking up at him with a slight smirk “text me when you’re on your way”
he shook his head and laughed as he gave you a small wave goodbye and headed towards the subway.
~~~
it had only been three days since you were given the week off, enjoying the company of spencer in your bed two thirds of those nights. he texted you the same night as the encounter in the parking garage, eager to see you in a private setting.
“look how pretty you look sitting on my cock”
you were straddling him, your head thrown back with both hands on his shoulders as you tried to keep a quick pace. he had his hands pressed deep into your hips, helping you move in a fluid motion. you felt him hit your sweet spot every time you made your way down, letting out tiny whimpers at the feeling.
“i love when you use me like this, getting yourself off like a good girl”
you couldn’t hold in the loud moan you had been holding, feeling your stomach flutter at his words. you felt a slight burning in your thighs and you knew spencer’s shoulders held tiny crescent shapes from how tight your grip had become. you felt one of spencer’s hands move to your clit, rubbing small circles on the bundle of nerves.
he grabbed your chin, making you look him in the eyes. you looked at him and grinned, fucked out and eager before you felt a sudden surge against your cheek before he let his hand rest there, rubbing his thumb to ease the pain.
“you gonna cum for me angel?”
“fuck- yes spence, i’m so- so close” you couldn’t even hear the words coming out of your mouth, your heartbeat beating so loud your hearing going out.
you moved your head down pushing your forehead to spencer’s with your eyes tight.
“cum for me baby, wanna feel you tighten around my cock.”
you felt that tight feeling in your stomach, the mix of his skilled fingers and his thick cock rubbing against your walls caused your breath to stop in your throat, your release making you see stars. you stopped your movement, breathing heavily as you leaned down into spencer. you felt soft kisses on your head and face, peppering you all over.
“did so good for me baby, love watching you use me”
you smiled against his neck, starting to do your own kissing. you felt his breath hitch when you found the sweet spot behind his ear, the small mole behind it always guiding you to the exact spot. you took your time, sucking and biting at the spot, grinding your hips, ready to keep going.
spencer gave your thigh a quick tap, before telling you to bend over. you were quick to roll over, propping yourself up on your hands and knees before slowly wiggling yourself back and forth to him.
you felt a sharp pain on your ass, a slight stinging feeling before you felt a tight grip run through your hair. you felt your body being pulled tightly to his, his chest flushed against your back. he moved one of his hands to your chest, a his fingers glazing your nipple, his other moving to your neck, pushing his thumb and middle finger to just the right spot to apply pressure.
“i let you use me, now it’s my turn to use you angel” spencer had leaned down to your ear, kissing your jaw before pushing you back down onto the bed.
spencer leaned down slightly, gripping your ass with both hands before spreading them. he let a trail of spit fall to your eager hole, before he rubbed it onto your pussy, giving your clit extra attention.
you moaned and pushed back into his touch before you felt him enter you quick and unforgiving, your ass jiggling with every move of his hips.
“fuck- so fucking deep” you arched your back, begging your body to somehow take him deeper. you felt his firm calloused hands rub against your back before settling into a position on your hips, his thumbs pressing small bruises into your skin.
“taking me so fuck-”
spencer’s voice was cut off by his phone ringing, vibrating on the nightstand beside you, and you felt his hips slow down, letting out a soft sigh as he was considering stopping completely.
you felt him hesitate but needed him to keep going, pushing your hips back into his trying to keep both of your focus.
“spence, please don’t stop” your voice still unsteady, “just ignore it”
spencer pulled out of you, and you let out a whine as the loss of contact. you rolled yourself over, making yourself comfortable on the pillows expecting him to walk away to return the call.
instead he leaned back over you and pulled you into a deep kiss, holding your face in both hands. your lips parting slightly when you felt his tongue lick your bottom lip, allowing your tongues to meet.
spencer grabbed his dick, rubbing over your clit before he lined himself up with you, gasping when he pushed himself in.
“you’re so fucking perfect angel”
he pulled away, lifting your legs up to your shoulders and latching his hands to your thighs. he found himself moving slow and deep, like he was trying to memorize the way you felt around him.
you moved your hands to play with your nipples, rolling the hard buds between your finger tips. he bent down, pushing his weight into you, almost like he was folding you. he pooled spit into his mouth before he let it go to your clit, moving his hand to the bundle of nerves.
“want you to cum again for me pretty girl, want one more before i fill you up”
you let out a moan, sighing before you went to speak “gonna fill me-”
you were cut off by the phone ringing again, the buzzing sound making you forget your thoughts. spencer dropped your thighs and leaned over before giving you a quick kiss before he reached over to grab phone.
“spencer do not answer that”
he moved his finger to his lips, making a shushing motion “it’s emily”
you rolled your eyes, ready to kick him out and finish yourself off before heading to bed when you felt him move again. he moved his hand to cover your mouth before answering the phone.
“doctor reid”
you felt yourself get wetter, the sound of your slick filling the room, your moan mumbled behind his hand. spencer’s motion was relentless, his pace quick and brutal, jabbing your sweet spot with every push.
“i thought we were getting the week off”
your leg was lifted up, making the angle even deeper and you felt your eyes roll back, out of pleasure or annoyance you couldn’t tell. there was no way you were getting called in.
“i can get a hold of her for you, i remember her mentioning something about having a date this week”
you grinned, giggling behind his hand before spencer moved the phone to hold it on his shoulder, letting his now free hand to move back down. he never took his eyes off you, holding a shit eating grin as he felt you squeezing him tighter, squirming at how close you were. you furrowed your brows and pinched your eyes shut.
“i’ll be there in an hour”
you heard the phone beep, signaling the call was disconnected. spencer moved his hand away from your mouth down to your neck, cursing as he heard you gasp.
“did so good for me pretty girl”
his hips stopped deep inside you as you felt his cock twitch, filling you up. he groaned as he felt you cumming again, keeping his thumb in place to help your orgasm finish and you let a loud moan out in response. spencer gave you a long kiss, nipping at your bottom lip before he trailed his lips down your neck. he pulled himself out of you, grinning at the soft sigh you let out. he kept his lips on your body, trailing them down your stomach before reaching your thighs and nipping at the sensitive skin.
he moved his tongue and licked a long strip up your pussy, sucking on your clit before pulling up to look at you, shit eating grin on his face. “we’ve got roughly 30 minutes, that’s enough time for me to help you clean up, right angel?”
#nev writes#prison spencer reid#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid smut#spencer reid#criminal minds smut#criminal minds x reader#criminal minds
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Another little soft mechanic!Sukuna drabble because I love him ;( gets literally a biiit suggestive but it’s not super smutty!
“I don’- thin’- she like- dat.”
You groggily turn around, woke up by your boyfriend’s mumbles. You didn’t really catch what he said, but you just want to sleep, so you don’t pay it no mind. You scoot further on your side of the bed and start to fall asleep again, when he gets back on saying random things.
“Range Rov’r… so small… wan’ marr- ‘her…“
“Sukuna, stop, I’m tired, I can’t sleep with you talking” you respond, giving him a delicate shake. He’s tired too, you know it, and that’s why he’s talking in his sleep: he only does that when he’s exhausted. For the last month he’s been working extra hours at the garage he owns, saying it’s because “you both deserve a great vacation this year”. When you asked why, he rolled his eyes and ignored you. The tips of his ears were red.
He whines, barely waking up. He slightly opens one eye, sees you far away from him on your shared bed and scowls. Lately you haven’t been together a lot, apart from the times you try to study in his office with your headphones on to not hear him curse like a sailor, or, well, like a mechanic. He wraps one of his arms around your naked waist and bumps your body against his own.
“Gotcha,” he hoarsely says. You chuckle lightly then try wiggling away to sleep again, but he doesn’t budge. The long hours he spends under the cars have given him the most amazing muscles you’ve ever seen, but those come with a lot of strength too.
You relax in his hold while he draws random patterns on your skin with his calloused hand. It’s summer, you’re both naked because he says he likes to feel your skin on his. The only time you complained about being sweaty he grinned and said he knew other ways to make you sweaty, so now you only bring out the topic when you want to get dicked down good and fast.
You reach around his body to place your hand on his back, head below his chin. You could kiss his neck if you’d pucker your lips a little, that’s how close you are. You’re starting to fall asleep again when he whispers in your ear something you don’t understand.
“What?” You ask softly.
“… lov’ ya,” he slurs, before beginning to snore a bit. You smile to yourself, getting impossibly closer to him and drifting off to sleep.
#sukuna ryomen fluff#sukuna ryomen#sukuna ryomen x reader#sukuna ryomen smut#sukuna fluff#sukuna x you#sukuna x reader#drabbles#mechanic au
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Drunk Modern!Mizu with a Breeding Kink
(((Yup. I don't know what to title this short fic other than that. I let the demons win.)))
(((This turned out to have a bit of spice, a bit of fluff, a bit of my sense of humor. I will say it doesn't get smutty smutty but Mizu sure has a mouth on her. And she's determined.)))
You’re shooing Taigen and Akemi out of your apartment with a tipsy giggle at 2 am. Akemi turns and squeezes you in a warm hug. “Good night, doll! See you later!”
Taigen flashes you a peace sign before Akemi leads him, swaying and all, toward their Uber to take them away.
You watch them climb inside the car before closing the door and locking up for the night. You head into the kitchen, picking up the last of the beer bottles and tossing them in the trash.
You head into the living room where you last left Mizu, only to find her sprawled out on the floor with an arm thrown across her eyes. There’s a pink flush across the middle of her face.
“Too much whiskey, sweetheart?” you chuckle as you approach her.
“Fucking Taigen,” she mumbled, trying to angrily growl but it just sounds slurred and tired. “Fucking…drinking contest.”
You crawl over her, sitting on her hips. You do have to move carefully though, you’re just a wee bit unsteady from the amount of alcohol in your own system. “You could’ve just said no,” you hum.
Mizu remains silent. She’s probably telling herself she won’t grace your soft snark with an answer, but it’s actually cause she really doesn’t have a comeback for that.
Her arm lifts slightly higher, and she squints down at you. Her eyes drift to where you’re sitting atop her hips. Her legs shift under you.
She’s… really staring intensely at how you’re sitting on her.
You start to lift yourself up on your knees. “You good? Does it hurt?”
Mizu frowns as your weight leaves her. “No,” she says, and grabs your hips to pull you back down. “...It’s nothing.”
But you know that look. She gets it every time Taigen got under her skin about something.
“Nothing? Like a “just thinking” nothing or a “Taigen pissed in your metaphorical thinking cereal” nothing?”
Mizu’s nose scrunches up in disgust. “What?”
You press your hands to Mizu’s chest, bouncing a little for emphasis. “What. Did. He. Saaaaay?”
Your tone and actions were meant to be lighthearted, but something flashes in Mizu’s eyes when you bounce yourself on her hips. Her eyes flash back down to where you’re sitting. Her hands instinctively grab your hips to still your movement. The pink flush across her cheeks and nose seem to darken. “Fuck,” slips out from between her lips. She shakes her head. “S’ just being stupid and gross.”
You noted that little change in her voice. “Like what?”
Her thumbs run over the jut of your hips. “Some girl he hooked up with. Talking about how she had an IUD and let him cum inside.”
You sigh, “Jesus Christ, of course.”
“He’s gross.”
She keeps shifting her hips under you. “Are you sure you don’t need me to get up-?” You start lifting yourself again.
“Stop moving,” she says, and the flush on her cheeks doesn’t die down. She tries to look annoyed, but you can tell the minuscule differences in her expressions. That’s a pout more than a scowl.
You laugh breathlessly. “What’s got you so worked up?” You tap her totally not pouting lip.
She grunts, grumbling a little as her hands massage where they’re gripping your hips.
“Don’t be all huffy with me. Tell me,” you coax with a grin, your own tipsy flush complimenting your wide smile.
She rolls her head back against the carpet and is silent for a minute.
The amount of whiskey currently killing her liver is the only reason her inhibitions are loose enough to say it.
She mumbles something.
“Mizu-“
“I wanna do that.”
Your eyebrows raise into your hairline, lips parting with surprise. You need to clarify just in case you're misunderstanding. “You want to-?”
“I want to cum inside you.”
The raspiness of her voice is even grittier from the whiskey.
Holy shit.
Her irises are darker than normal, the bright blue having more the tint of stormy waters.
And whether it’s the liquid courage or Mizu’s determination to barrel through things to push through her fears, she keeps going.
Her hands are heavy as the slide up your sides. “I want to have something that I can slip inside you-“
Your heart is pounding harder in your chest from her words, her actions, the heat of her frustrated gaze. “You have several strap ons-“ you joke, but your voice is weak and airy.
“I want to feel you from the inside.” She makes a frustrated grunt, “I don’t want plastic. I want to feel you wrapped around something other than my fingers. I want to stretch you out-“
Her palms dig into your stomach. Her blue eyes flick up and meet yours, and you almost fall back away from her with how much unfiltered desire is in them. Her own breath is shallow, you can see how silently but rapidly her chest is rising and falling.
“I want there to be risk that I forget to pull out.”
Holy shIT-
“Mizu-MIZU-!”
Her hips bucked, throwing you higher up her waist with her strength. Your hands fly out to catch yourself, and your fingers hit her shoulders as she’s suddenly sitting up, face inches from yours. She’s supporting your weight in this position, hands and feet flat on the floor as you’re the unsteady one in so many ways. She looks irritated, like when she can’t bend something to her will no matter how much work she pours into it. But she also looks slightly mournful. Genuinely upset.
And very, VERY drunk.
She looks up at you with furrowed eyebrows. “I wanna see it dripping out.”
You gasp loudly as her teeth snap into your neck. It’s not a love bite, it’s possessive. It’s stinging.
But Mizu, being the complex and non one-note person she is, does let go and licks at the reddened skin in apology. “I want to leave myself behind. Inside you.” She nuzzles her nose below your ear, huffing.
Your brain is just on lag, taking several moments to catch up with each of her revealed desires. “And…” you swallow the saliva pooling in your mouth. “And if you got me knocked up on accident?”
Her arms squeeze tightly around you, burying her face in your shoulder. She’s silent for a heart pounding moment, you can actually FEEL her heart pounding with yours.
Her lips drag along the skin behind your ear. Her voice is low, dark. “Wouldn’t be an accident.”
Someone needs to take whiskey away from this woman. Or give it to her more. You’ll decide if you survive this encounter.
“Mizu-“ you don’t even know how to finish that sentence. You’re just… you don’t even know. You think you hear a faint ringing in your ears.
Her left hand dig into your side, gripping the fabric of your shirt. “Would you keep it?” she asks so softly.
“I-“ your brain is still on that fucking LAG.
Her breathing is slow, shuddering against your ear. “I wouldn’t make you, if you didn’t want to-“ she sounds so pained to say it your heart squeezes. You actually forget for a moment that that’s never gonna be an issue for you two.
Her grip on your shirt relaxes, before curling the fabric between her fingers tighter, clinging to you. “I’d just… beg for you to think about it,” she makes a wounded sound.
You swallow again, throat clicking. You’re becoming aware of a heat low in your abdomen growing warmer and warmer.
She holds you tighter against her, and her hips start rhythmically rolling up against yours like she’s mimicking how far she’d push inside to get what she wants. She’d work so hard for it, putting in all her time and energy and her unwavering determination-
“It’s selfish,” she’s murmuring against your skin, warm lips having traveling down to your neck. “But I’m selfish. I want it. I want it so much. I want to know there’s a little us-“ one hand goes between your bodies, fingertips pressed up under your naval like she’s obsessed. Her voice is strained. “I want to know it’s inside you. They’re inside you. I want to know they’re safe and warm. You’d keep them so warm. You’re always warm-“
You have never, in your life, ever heard Mizu babbling like this.
SHE’S STILL ROLLING HER HIPS UNDER YOU.
You finally grab her face with both hands in a rare moment of clarity to still her, forcing her head up to look at you in this haze of body heat radiating from her, from you, radiating everywhere between your bodies.
“Baby.”
Her head lolls back, looking up at you and oh my god. She is just gone. Her red cheek flush has spread to her whole face. Her lips are wet and parted, breath now audibly heavy. Her eyes, her eyes, her gorgeous blue eyes are now a storm. A dark, hot storm.
“Let me put a baby in you, dove,” her voice is strangled, slurred worse than you’ve ever heard as her half lidded eyes gaze at you.
Jesus, she’s bringing out the rare pet nickname she’s so desperate.
And just when you think Mizu is done shocking your system with this new side of her, her expression crumbles into the saddest thing you’ve ever seen.
“Please?”
She’s pleading.
What the fuck was in her whiskey?!
“I’ll-I’ll take care of the two of you. Keep you safe. Just let me- just let me-“ she lifts her hips up under you again, as if trying to tempt you into it. She hiccups. “Just spread your legs and I’ll do all the work.”
With strength she should not have while she’s absolutely smashed, she lunges forward, shoving you to the carpet with your legs spread around her waist. Her hot breath fans over your face, tinted with whiskey. She wets her lips. “Have my baby. Say yes.” Her hips press down into yours again. She whispers your name.
You’re tempted to say yes, despite still being sober enough to remember the logistics of this. She makes a very persuasive case. And it’s not just cause she’s grinding into you like she’s warming up to do it.
"Say yes..."
Click!
You both slowly look up (you more tilting your head back) as the front door opens and Mizu’s roommate Ringo comes in. He freezes in the doorway, seeing Mizu crouched over you in a very interesting position with your legs still spread by her thighs.
She scowls at him. “You said you weren’t coming back tonight!” She sways over you.
Ringo blinks. “Mom has Bingo in the morning,” he says innocently. “… did something happen?”
“She’s pregnant,” Mizu hiccups, before passing out atop you without warning, shoving a strangled noise out of your chest as you yell for Ringo’s help.
“Oh? Congratulations!”
“….Wait…?”
“RINGO HELP!”
In the morning, Mizu drags herself into the living room looking like she was just brought back from the dead, face drained of color and eyes squinting at the light behind her tinted glasses.
“Hi baby,” you greet her softly, cautiously as you watch her head to the kitchen, aiming for the coffee pot.
“Hi,” she groans. “I’m never fucking doing a drinking contest with that bastard again.”
You nod, “That sounds good."
You pause, "Do you remember anything from last night?”
She shrugs as she passes you. “Barely.” She disappears into the kitchen.
“Oh,” you turn toward her retreating back, propping your chin in your hand as you lean against the back of the couch. You wait until she’s out of sight to oh so innocent call out “I wanted to ask about how you were begging to impregnate me.”
Several loud crashes in the kitchen.
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Special Delivery (Spencer Reid x F!Reader)
Description: Something's different about Reid and no-one knows what. However, a surprise delivery to the BAU may just have the answer...
Warnings: Food references, mentions of mental health, mentions of medical procedures, references to smutty behaviour, Spencer being adorable
Masterlist
“Ok. Am I the only one who’s noticed something’s different with Reid lately?” Morgan remarked, watching as the said boy-genuis made his way across the bullpen and over to his desk.
“Yeah,” Emily hummed, watching the young agent over the rim of coffee cup. She had to admit it - as much as it annoyed her - Morgan was right; Spencer has definitely been acting different. If anything, she was surprised it had taken them all this long to say anything.
Normally, they were all over each other the moment they noticed anything even remotely different about each other. Hell, she’d barely taken a step off the elevator, after getting an extra few inches cut off at her latest haircut, before the team were quizzing her about possible life changes and whether or not they needed to be worried about her.
It was a hazard of working with profilers for a living; it was almost impossible to keep anything a secret. No wonder they were all intrigued and slightly confused by the fact that none of them had been able to pinpoint what was going on with their friend.
The most notable difference was the gradual disappearance of the dark circles under his eyes. Reid also seemed happier in general, less quiet and reserved when talking to others, and it was starting to make agents talk.
Morgan and Emily stood up straighter as JJ walked over to join the unofficial gossip session. She took one look at the pair and knew immediately what they were whispering about.
“Are you talking about Reid?”
“Oh yeah,” Morgan grinned, “my money’s on him having finally found someone.”
Emily choked, seemingly as a result of inhaling her coffee at the grand statement. “What?”
“Oh, come on, Miss ‘super spy’. Just look at him,” he teased. “He’s been distracted. He’s all goo-goo eyed and he’s been leaving this place at a normal hour. Like… tell me that doesn’t scream ‘I got a date’.”
“What? It could be loads of things. It doesn’t have to be a date, right JJ?”
“He’s probably just happy. We’ve all been getting more sleep lately and our paperwork is non-existent at the moment,” JJ murmured, reaching past the pair of them to grab for the coffee pot. She was clearly doing her best to try and put this line of questioning to rest. She’d always been the first to protect the younger agent she now saw as a little brother. “Besides, we all know he’s not interested in dating, he hasn’t been since…. Well, you know.”
Morgan groaned. “But what about the secret texts, JJ!” he protested, ignoring the look Emily shot him in return. “He’s been glued to that phone of his and keeps giggling like a school kid. Then there’s the lunches! I know he’s always been organised and likes things a certain way, but damn. His lunches have been like next level - and actually healthy? And I swear he’s had jello like every day.”
JJ rolled her eyes. “You’re basing your profile on jello? Is that it?”
“Well, no I mean… did you not hear the part about the texting and the taking secret calls and the fact he didn’t come out for drinks last night-”
“-Can’t we just be glad for him? Whatever is going on, it’s good for him. Let’s just drop it, ok? He’ll tell us when he’s ready if there’s anything to share.”
“JJ’s right,” Emily echoed. “Reid’s just … happy. End of.”
By the way Morgan frowned it looked like it definitely was not the end of this conversation, but he never got the chance to argue. In fact, he was interrupted as the main doors opened next to them and a rather lost looking receptionist hurried through.
Normally, this wouldn’t have been worth noticing but all three of them spun around at the sound of him calling out the name, “Agent Reid? uh… Is Agent Reid here?”
“Oh, uh, here!” Spencer shouted, soundly vaguely like he was taking roll call. It didn’t help that he shot his arm up in the air too, almost falling off his desk chair as he lurched to his feet and hurried over. “That’s… that’s me - and it’s Dr Reid, but it doesn’t matter. How can I help?”
“Oh, uh, there’s a Y/N at reception for you,” the unfortunate messenger managed, gesturing back the way they’d came. “I told them to wait whilst I came to check with you as they’re not on your visitor list-”
Spencer didn’t even let the poor man finish. He was already racing for the door before the man had even made it to the end of the sentence. Needless to say, the others were quick to follow, with Morgan smugly boasting “told you soooo” as he went.
There was no way on earth they were missing this and considering Hotch and Rossi hadn’t arrived yet it wasn’t like they were about to get their asses handed to them for missing their briefing either.
Despite the amount Spencer had told you about the BAU, you were still surprised by how different the FBI offices were to what you’d imagined.
The offices were larger and the sheer number of people walking about in suits and carrying a side arm made you feel even more nervous, and that was already a problem considering you were stood there wearing neon blue scrubs, embroidered with jungle animals on the pocket.
You were like a walking, flashing sign, screaming ‘outsider - does not work here’. Thankfully, you weren’t going to be there long. You were only swinging by on your way to work, hoping to catch your utterly perfect - and utterly forgetful - boyfriend, before the start of your shift.
Speaking of Spencer, you had only been standing there for possibly five minutes when you saw him barreling through the doors towards you.
“Hey, Spence-“
“Y/N? Honey? What’s going on?” he gushed, hurrying over and taking your face in his hands. You could see his wide eyes frantically scanning every inch of you, looking for some kind of problem or sign that you were not ok. “Is everything alright? What are you doing here?”
You felt your cheeks warm at the sudden display of concern, very much aware of the scene your wonderful boyfriend was making. Spencer wasn’t normally the most affectionate in public, preferring to save those rare moments for when the two of you were alone. The fact he was so worried about what might have brought you to the FBI on a Tuesday morning was touching and made your heart swell.
“I’m fine, Spence. Don’t worry-”
“Then what are you doing here?”
“You forgot something,” you soothed, pulling back and reaching into your satchel. It was impossible to miss the way his face reddened as you pulled out a neatly labeled Dr Who Tupperware by way of explanation. “I’m here because you were in such a rush this morning that you forgot your lunch.”
“Oh.”
“Yes, ‘oh’,” you teased. “I couldn’t exactly let you go hungry so I thought I’d drop it off on my way to work. I don’t start till later as I’m covering Amelia’s shift as she’s visiting her sister in Boston, so I thought I’d swing by.”
Sure, Spencer was an adult and you could have let him just buy something from the cafeteria or order something in for lunch, but considering how much effort he had gone to to cook with you the day before you felt bad letting it go to waste.
He’d been so proud of the way the recipe had turned out, following the instructions and your guidance with extreme precision and care. The result had been a rather tasty looking dish - and it had the added benefit of being healthy too. You were always worried that Spencer seemed to think fast food, like Pizza, was a food group. Then again, he had been forced to be an adult pretty fast and had been in college so young that it wasn’t a surprise that no-one had been there to teach him about cooking and eating right. He had been too focused on his studies to even think about anything else.
It was something he had been working on since you’d got together and now cooking had become one of your favourite date night activities. It didn’t hurt that you often ended up spilling food all over yourselves and needing to shower together - it was just a lovely bonus. In fact, your screensaver was now a picture of you and Spencer, covered in flour, and beaming ear to ear.
“Thank you, that… that’s so nice,” Spencer stammered, “but I feel bad. You didn’t need to go out of your way and bring it to me.”
“As I say, it’s on my way to work. It’s no trouble.”
“Well, still-“
“Hey, pretty boy!”
Spencer froze.
“You gonna introduce us to your friend, or what?”
Spencer opened his mouth but instantly closed it again. You knew by the way he rolled his eyes and began muttering under his breath that whoever had shouted that had definitely been talking to him.
You couldn’t help but giggle. “Pretty boy, huh?”
“Don’t ask,” he whined, taking a deep breath as you looked over his shoulder and saw a small group of people now making their way towards you. “I should probably mention that I wasn’t sure how comfortable you were with me mentioning you, so I haven’t told anyone about us yet and those idiots are some of my team and I would say ‘run’ but they’re all faster than me.”
“Ah… I see. So I’m guessing that one is Morgan?”
“Yes.”
“Well, no time like the present,” you cheered, turning and waving at the approaching trio. “Hi. Nice to meet you. I’m Y/N - Spencer’s girlfriend.”
“Wow. A girlfriend?” cooed Morgan, reaching over to pull you into a hug before the other two could stop him. To their credit, they looked slightly embarrassed by the display but they were clearly too interested in your identity to care. “And a doctor to boot? Didn’t know he had it in him. I’m Derek Morgan.”
“Oh, I worked that out. It’s good to finally meet you all.”
The others were quick to echo the sentiment, with JJ and Emily quickly introducing themselves in tandem. They were also quick to invite you inside the office for some coffee, but thankfully you weren’t lying when you said you had to get to work.
“You know how it is. People to take care of, medical cases to solve, lives to save - same old, same old. All I’m missing is a snazzy badge and I could be an FBI agent.”
“Ha ha.” Spencer’s smile was genuine as you stole a kiss before making a dash for your car. However, you could see the nerves in his eyes at being left alone to face the great inquisition that now awaited him following the discovery of your existence. You were pretty sure the entire BAU would know about you before it even hit lunchtime. “I’ll see you later, ok?”
“Of course. Just let me know if you’re coming home or if you’re off saving the world in another state - otherwise I can’t promise I won’t eat all the leftovers before you get back.”
He chuckled. “Will do.”
With that, you bid the others goodbye, making sure to agree when they asked (more like insisted) that you came to their family dinner on Friday night at none other than Rossi’s house. The rest of the team were going to be begging to meet you after this, and they were all bringing their families along too.
If Spencer wasn’t comfortable with you going you were pretty sure the team would believe it if you said you’d got called into a last minute surgery, but you’d check later when you both returned to the apartment you now called your home. Either way, you were going to have to make something to take with you, just in case.
As your grandpa had always said, there was no quicker way to someone’s heart than through their stomach. Or, as in Spencer's case, with an unlimited supply of Jello...
#ithebookhoarder#masterlist#thesilentmage#criminal minds#criminal minds x reader#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid#spencer reid x you#derek morgan#emily prentiss#jennifer jareau#david rossi
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Stress Relief
You convince your husband to take out his anger on you when he comes home very tense.
Warnings: (18+ MDNI) dom!spencer, sub!reader, oral (f), reader in handcuffs so light bondage?, choking, unprotected penetrative sex, multiple orgasms, aftercare and domestic bliss because he’s still our beloved spencer
Words: 5k for 5k milestone celebration! TYSM ILY💘💘
A/n: I combined two requests asking for him to get all angry/frustrated because an unsub had a particular thing for winding him up (from anon 1) so he needs some kind of smutty release (from anon 2). You know who you are.
You could tell something was off.
A sense of unease settled in the pit of your stomach as the front door creaked open, and instead of the usual lively greeting from your husband, you were met with silence. It was as though he was physically there and yet you could sense his absence in the air.
"Spence?" You called out, stepping out of the kitchen. When there was no response, you tried again. "Baby, are you okay?"
Your feet guided you down the hallway where you found him standing by the door with his back facing you. Even from behind, you could sense the foul mood he was in. His shoulders seemed more tense than usual, his hair slightly disheveled, and there was an edge to his movements as he closed the door with a loud thud.
"Babe?"
His response was brief, his gaze flickering towards you before quickly darting away, almost as if he were intentionally avoiding your eyes.
"Hey."
"Hey?" you echoed. "That's all I'm getting?"
When his eyes met yours again, you could practically feel the tension radiating from him. It was clear that he was angry, his usual calm demeanor seemed to be replaced by a subtle but palpable edge. There was a tightness in his jaw, a clenched fist by his side, and his usually warm gaze now held a hint of sharpness.
Only one thought crossed your mind whenever he came home like this.
"Bad day at work?"
He slowly nodded.
"Do you want to talk about it?"
He shook his head.
"Do you want a hug?"
He hesitated momentarily, his brows furrowing slightly as if debating whether to accept your offer. Then, without a word, he closed the distance between you. His arms enveloped you, pulling you close as he buried his head in the crook of your neck. Your hand instinctively found its way to his hair, fingers gently running through the soft strands.
"Oh, honey, you're so tense," you noted as your other hand trailed along his shoulder. "Is there anything I can help with? A massage? A nice warm bath maybe?"
You felt him shake his head against you, but you persisted, wanting to offer him comfort in any way you could. When your hand smoothed down his back, his hold on you tightened. When your fingers brushed the nape of his neck, you felt his warm breath caress your skin.
Then it happened—soft lips brushed against the spot under your ear, tentative at first, before growing more urgent. It wasn't the tender, affectionate kisses you were used to, but a different kind of intimacy that felt almost desperate. His lips nibbled and sucked gently at your skin and it became clear to you what he wanted.
"You want another kind of release, baby? Is that what you want?"
His lips momentarily paused against your neck, his arms loosening their grip around you before he rested his hands on your hips. "I don't think that's a good idea."
"Why not?"
"Because—” he stopped, his grip on your body tightening. “Because I don't feel like myself right now."
You grabbed him by the shoulders, pushing him away just enough to see his face. "What makes you say that?"
Spencer held your gaze. How could he explain to you that he was on the verge of acting out his frustration? That he was so close to losing control?
He knew how difficult he could be when anger took hold of him. In his younger days, he wouldn't hesitate to fire off sassy remarks and snarky comments, letting his emotions dictate his behavior. However, as he matured, he learned better to hide those emotions behind a composed facade.
But tonight felt different. Despite his best attempts to maintain his control, he could feel his anger slipping away, and it was unfair to burden you with it. Especially when you were offering yourself to him, so sweet and so pretty, when he knew love wasn't exactly what he could offer you right now.
So he decided to release you, his grip loosening as he stepped back.
"Forget it," he muttered under his breath before turning towards your shared bedroom. Your brow furrowed as he walked away, leaving you standing there with your mouth slightly agape, bewildered by his sudden withdrawal.
"Spencer Reid," you called after him, your voice laced with a hint of irritation as you followed him. "I wasn't done talking to you."
He paused, his hand halfway to his tie before he loosened it with a sharp tug. You leaned against the bedroom doorway, crossing your arms as you continued to study him. His lack of response only fueled your growing annoyance, but you knew better than to escalate the situation into a fight.
Taking a deep breath to calm yourself, you spoke up, your voice steady but tinged with frustration. "Honey, I can't help you if you're acting this way."
"What makes you think I need help?"
"The way you're wrestling with your tie gives it away," you replied, your words laced with a hint of sarcasm.
He shot you a pointed look, clearly unimpressed by your remark. "I don't need your help."
Your frown deepened. "Seriously? You're just going to shut me out like this?"
"I'm not shutting you out," he countered, moving around the room. "I just need some space."
"Well you're doing a pretty damn good job of it," you shot back, your patience wearing thin as you pushed yourself off the doorway. His jaw clenched, but he remained silent, his actions focused on undoing the button on his wrist now. You scoffed at his lack of response again.
"Oh, so now you're giving me the silent treatment?" When it seemed evident he was trying to ignore you, you pressed on. "Fine, keep your silence, let me do the talking."
His eyes flickered momentarily at you before he turned around, undoing the button of his shirt. You watched him quietly as he continued to avoid your gaze.
"Spencer," you began, your voice softer now. "I know your job can be hard, and I know you're going through a lot right now, but shutting me out won't make it any easier."
“I've already told you, I'm not trying to shut you out."
"Then what are you doing?" you pressed. "I tried offering you help when you didn't want to talk about it. And the one thing I can help you with, the one thing I'm sure will help you relax, you refused."
You let out a frustrated sigh, hating how much your voice wavered now.
"Spence... you—you didn't even want to have sex with me."
His shoulders stiffened at your words, finally turning to face you. "You think I don't want to have sex with you?"
You swallowed hard, feeling a knot form in your throat. "I don't know what to think anymore," you admitted. "You're giving me the cold shoulder, it’s hard not to take it personally."
The room seemed to close in around you, suffocating in its silence. Then, you watched as he began to walk towards you. One step. Two steps. Until his presence loomed over you, casting a shadow that suddenly made you feel small and vulnerable.
"I'm refusing to have sex with you right now not because I don't want to," he said, his voice dangerously low. "I'm refusing because I'm trying to protect you."
You frowned, confusion furrowing your brow. "Protect me from what?"
There was a moment of silence before he replied, “From myself."
You felt a knot tightening in your stomach, goosebumps forming on your skin as you struggled to comprehend what he was trying to say.
“I… I don't understand."
"I don't want to risk it. I'm afraid that if we... if we cross that line, I might hurt you."
"Spencer," you whispered in disbelief, as if his words were the most absurd thing you'd ever heard. "You would never hurt me."
He shook his head. "You wouldn't be so sure if you knew half of the thought in my head right now."
You faltered for a moment, taken aback by his words. Then your gaze involuntarily flickered down his body, tracing the lines of his open shirt and the gentle rise and fall of his chest. Your breath caught in your throat as your gaze moved lower, taking in the way his pants hung low on his hips, and the trail of soft hair leading downwards.
You swallowed hard.
"Tell me then," you challenged, your voice trembling slightly as you met his gaze again. "Tell me how you'd hurt me."
He studied you, assessing, calculating. "You won't like it," he warned.
"And what if I do?"
His eyes narrowed slightly, a hint of surprise flashing across his features. "You don't know what you're asking for."
"I know what I want."
He regarded you for a long moment, weighing your words carefully. Finally, he stepped closer, his breath warm against your skin as he whispered, "You really want to know what I'd like to do to you?"
You held his gaze. "Yes," you replied. "Tell me."
His lips curved into a faint, almost rueful smile. With a slow, deliberate movement, he reached out and traced a finger along the curve of your jaw. "I want to use you," he murmured. "I want to feel you, to taste you. I want to make you scream."
You could feel the heat traveling through your body, a heady mixture of desire and anticipation flooding your senses. You reached out, fingers trembling as they brushed against his chest, feeling the heat radiating from his skin.
"I want to control you," he continued, his gaze darkening. "I want to tie you up leave you bruises, mark your skin. I want you helpless, begging for mercy."
He tilted your chin up, his eyes locking with yours.
"I want to see how far you'll go for me."
Your breath caught in your throat as you drank in his words, and you couldn't deny the heat spreading between your legs. "And what if I want that too?"
A tense silence settled between you. Then slowly, almost as if testing the waters, he wrapped his fingers around your throat, simply holding you there. "You don't mean that."
"Try me," you dared, holding his gaze. "Put your hand between my thighs and see just how much I mean it."
His grip around your throat tightened ever so slightly while his other hand hovered at the waistband of your cotton pants. You felt a jolt of anticipation as he slipped his hand inside, your breath hitching as the pad of his calloused fingers dipped inside your panties.
A soft hum of approval escaped his lips when the slickness of your arousal coated his skin.
"Would you look at that? Barely even touched you and you're already this wet?" A low gasp fell between your lips as he found your clit. "You really want this, don't you?"
You could only manage a whimper in response, your breath coming in ragged gasps.
"Tell me," he insisted, his breath hot against your skin. "Do you want me to stop?"
Your heart pounded in your chest as you struggled to find your voice. "No," you finally managed to gasp.
With deliberate slowness, he trailed his fingertips lower, teasingly circling your entrance. He started with gentle strokes, keeping his fingers only on the outer side as you tried to bite back a moan that threatened to slip out.
“You dirty girl,” he muttered, and you feel yourself getting wetter as his finger continued to touch you teasingly. Then slowly, the grip on your throat loosened before his hand moved to cup your cheek.
“I need you to be sure," he whispered, "Because once we cross that line, there's no going back."
Your eyelids dropped lower as you chewed on your bottom lip, feeling the weight of his desire hanging in the air. It was a heady mix of uncertainty and anticipation, but one thing was clear—you wanted him.
You wanted him to use your body.
“Use me however you like,” you confessed. "I-I’m all yours.”
His lips were on yours in an instant. There was no mercy in his kiss, only raw desire and urgency. He kissed you as if he needed to breathe in your air, his lips moving desperately against yours, his tongue seeking entrance to taste you.
His hand then left your pants to cradle your face, holding you gently yet firmly as he explored every inch of your mouth, leaving you breathless and wanting more. Finally, he pulled away, his chest rising and falling heavily as he caught his breath.
He looked down at you, his gaze intense, and saw the dazed expression in your eyes. Your touch, taste, and scent clouded his vision as you trembled in his arms, the soft sounds of your labored breath sang in his ears.
Mine, mine, mine.
"Now listen to me," he said, his voice low and commanding. "I'm going to leave you for a while, and when I come back, I expect to see you lying on the bed naked with your legs spread apart."
You swallowed hard, eyes slightly going wide. You felt his hand gripping your jaw.
"Do I make myself clear?"
You quickly nodded. "Y-Yes."
His grip tightened momentarily before he released you, his gaze piercing as he held your eyes for a moment longer. Then, without another word, he turned and left the room.
With trembling hands, you began to undress, each piece of clothing dropping to the floor until you stood bare before the bed. The cool air prickled against your skin as you slowly climbed onto the bed.
You brought your feet onto the bed before spreading your knees apart. It felt weird, you had never felt so exposed and vulnerable, yet you couldn't deny the arousal pooling between your thighs. And then you heard him, his footsteps gradually coming closer and your heart pounded in your chest as you gripped onto the bed sheets.
His tall frame filled the doorway as he took in the sight before him, his eyes lingering between your legs. He watched your chest rise and fall, watched the way your legs fell apart even more as if you were offering yourself to him. Without a word, he approached the bed and stripped off his shirt.
Before you could catch your breath, he stood over the bed beside you. "Put your arms above your head."
You hesitated for a moment, feeling the weight of his gaze, but then slowly, almost instinctively, you complied, raising your arms above your head as instructed. You watched as he reached behind his back, and your heart raced as you glimpsed the glint of metal in his hand.
He didn't say a word as he reached for your wrists, securing them above your head with the cold metal of the handcuff, restraining you to the bed. The click of the cuffs echoed in the room before he stepped back, his eyes fixed on you with a predatory gleam as if he was admiring his handiwork.
Your pulse quickened as you lay there, exposed and at his mercy and you couldn't help but squirm under his gaze. He moved closer, his fingers trailing lightly along your skin, and you shivered, both from the chill of the metal and the warmth of his touch.
"You look so pretty like this," he murmured. "So helpless, yet so willing."
Your eyes followed his movement as his fingers moved to unbutton his pants. Then he was completely naked, and even though you had seen him like this countless times, the sight of his cock never failed to make your cunt clench in anticipation. He was thick and hard, with veins pulsing along its length and droplets of wetness glistening at the tip.
The bed sank under his weight as he positioned himself between your legs. You gasped when he leaned forward, the underside of his cock teasingly brushing against your wet folds as his lips met your collarbone. You bit down on your bottom lip as he kissed lower, stopping at your left breast, where he suckled on the supple skin just above your nipple.
His mouth latched onto your skin after taking a moment to try and keep himself from rushing into things. But he was a simple man. His lips worked precisely and diligently, and you watched as he left marks on your breasts, his teeth gently sinking into your flesh here and there, his warm saliva coating the faint markings.
The kisses left on your sensitive skin resulted in you whining for more. Spencer felt a rush of satisfaction like no other, his touches growing more urgent with each sound that escaped your lips. His tongue glided over your plump breasts, teasing and tantalizing, until finally, his mouth enveloped your nipple.
You squealed, squirming underneath him, and he smiled against your skin, his lips forming a knowing smirk as he continued to suck while his thumb flicked the nipple he wasn't focusing on. There was no doubt you would be left with bruises tomorrow morning.
Your eyes drifted downward just as he looked up, his gaze meeting yours, and you couldn't help but whine when the tip of his tongue circled your nipple teasingly. You reached out, craving the sensation of your fingers in his hair, only to feel the metal of the handcuffs digging into your skin.
"It's torture, isn't it? Not being able to do anything," he taunted with a laugh, shifting his attention to your other nipple. "But I guess that's the fun part.”
You whimpered as he softly bit your sensitive bud, and your back arched off the bed in response. He leaned back, admiring the marks he'd left on your skin.
"God, look at you," he murmured as his gaze lingered on your flushed skin, the swell of your breasts rising and falling with each breath. "I could do this all night."
Slowly, he lowered himself back down, his lips tracing a path from your chest down to your stomach. You squirmed, anticipation coiling tightly in your belly as his warm breath ghosted lower. His hair tickled your legs, and he took the opportunity to turn his head slightly to the side, immediately pressing a hot open-mouthed kiss against your inner thigh.
You gasped as he sucked your skin into his mouth, teeth grazing over the flesh as if he was intent on marking every inch of your body. His lips continued to trail along your thighs but never quite reaching the place you craved him the most.
For someone with pent-up emotions, his movements were agonizingly slow. It was frustrating, the way he toyed with you, drawing out the anticipation until you couldn't bear it any longer.
"Please," you whimpered, the chains rattling softly against the headboard as you continued to squirm beneath him.
He paused, his hot breath fanning over your skin as he looked up at you. "Please what?"
"Pl-Please touch me."
He kissed over your mound as he hooked an arm under your leg. His other hand reached for the heat radiating between your thighs before two of his fingers brushed along your outer lips, dragging your arousal along your skin. "Like this?"
You groaned as he kept on teasing you, stroking you with featherlight touches. “More," you pleaded desperately, almost pathetically. "Please."
His fingers stretched your folds, his gaze fixed on the glistening wetness, on the way your cunt clenched around nothing. "You're so pretty, you know that?"
"Spence..." you breathed out, feeling his breath achingly close to your heat.
He didn't respond with words. Instead, he lowered his head, his breath hot against your flesh. The minute his tongue touched you, you were already a writhing, whimpering mess. Your head began spinning, nerves and pleasure swooping into one big fuzzy mess in your mind as his tongue teased up and down your slit.
"Oh my god," you whined the moment his mouth circled your clit before sucking on it, sending waves of pleasure along your body. And then, just as you thought you couldn't take it anymore, you felt his finger at your entrance, and without warning, he pushed in his digit, sending your head tilting back with a desperate gasp falling from your lips.
His groan reverberated against your skin as your walls clenched around him. He pushed his finger deeper, curling it inside of you as his tongue lapped at your dripping folds. With each movement, he pressed his face even further into you, relishing the sensation of your wetness coating his jaw.
Your eyes drifted downwards at the same time he looked up, locking gazes with him, and you let out the most filthy cry of pleasure. He held your gaze as his tongue quickened its pace, sucking your clit even harder as he added another finger inside you.
Your mouth gaped open as you felt the delicious stretch, and you couldn't help but buck your hips towards his face. Spencer always had a fixation on pleasuring you, but not like this—it was never like this. He seemed desperate, almost possessive, as if he couldn't get enough of your taste.
He continued his relentless assault, his fingers pumping inside you with a steady rhythm while his tongue worked tirelessly on your swollen clit. The squelching sound of his fingers thrusting in and out of your dripping walla was so lewd that it made his cock stir against the bed.
You could feel the tension coiling tighter and tighter within you, the heat spreading like wildfire through your veins. Before you knew it, your climax hit you hard, without warning, without mercy, and you were gasping his name over and over.
You shivered and trembled beneath him, tossing your head back even farther, squeezing your walls around his fingers and your legs around his head. But he didn't stop or even slow down. Instead, he pulled his fingers out of you, only to push your thighs apart even when your legs were shaking uncontrollably.
"Stop moving," he ordered as he leaned in, tasting you all over again. He didn't care that you were a complete mess, that you were still reeling in from your climax, that you were trying to move back away from him. All he cared about was giving you the best pleasure imaginable, and he was intent on seeing it through.
"Spence—” you gasped when his nose brushed your clit. “I-I can't—"
He gently held your fragile body in place to prevent you from running away from his mouth. "Hold still and give me another one."
How could you not relent when he treated you like this, so considerate yet so rough? You groaned, your eyes meeting the ceiling as you felt his mouth continue its relentless assault on your cunt. The sensation was overwhelming, yet despite your protests, you couldn't deny the building pressure.
Your muscles tensed. Your breathing hitched. You gasped for air. And just as the waves of pleasure threatened to consume you once more, you surrendered, letting out a pathetic cry as your body convulsed with the force of your climax.
His tongue lingered over your sensitive skin, savoring the taste of your release, before he finally withdrew, allowing you a moment to catch your breath. He then lifted his head, your juices glistening on his lips as he watched your heaving chest.
Spencer had never been so thankful for his eidetic memory. He took in the sight of your hands, bound above your head, the rise and fall of your chest as you panted, the tousled strands of hair framing your face. His gaze lingered on the way your legs willingly parted for him, your skin flushed and pussy swollen, all because of him.
It was a sight he wanted to etch into his memory forever.
You bit your bottom lip as his gaze lingered on you, feeling your body flush under his scrutiny. Then, as if something within him shifted, he reached for you, urging your body to turn until you were facing sideways, the chains rattling softly as you moved.
He settled behind you, and your heart quickened as you felt him grab your leg, lifting it in the air. With one hand gripping your thigh firmly, he positioned himself between your legs, his hard cock pressing against your slick folds.
You could feel the warmth of his body pressed against your back, his breath ghosting over your neck as he leaned in closer. With a deep, guttural moan, he eased himself into you, every inch of him sliding effortlessly into your wetness. You couldn't help but arch your back in response to the sensation of being filled so completely.
"Fuck," he murmured, the curse slipping past his lips in a breathy whisper. It sounded foreign coming from him and yet it only encouraged you more. You pushed your hips back into him, meeting his slow, deliberate thrusts.
"Needed this so much," he confessed, his breath coming out in ragged pants against the nape of your neck. "You have no idea how much I've wanted you like this for so long."
Your head fell back onto his chest, completely enveloped in him—the scent of his skin, the warmth of his touch, the rhythmic movement of his cock thrusting inside you.
"Thought it was wrong of me to take control of you," he muttered, his breath hot against your ear. "But you're enjoying this as much, aren't you?"
You whimpered, unable to form words as the pleasure consumed you and you felt him picking up his pace. The room was filled with lewd noises of your wetness along with the sound of skin slapping against skin.
"You like being helpless like this? You like it when I fuck you while being cuffed to the bed?"
Your breath hitched at his words. His hand left your thigh, but only momentarily. The crack of sound pierced the air, followed by a surge of sensation coursing up your leg. The realization hit you like a bolt of lightning—he spanked you.
And you liked it.
"Answer. Me," he demanded, each word punctuated by the rhythm of his thrusts.
"Yes," you managed to gasp out. "I-I love being helpless."
He let out a sound of pleasure as he released your thigh, only to tease your clit with his fingers. You gasped, your head thrown back as he applied just the right amount of pressure, sending waves of pleasure through your body. You felt the intensity building, the familiar coil tightening in your stomach as he continued to pump into you, his fingers moving fast against your clit.
You tried to speak and warn him about your upcoming orgasm but you couldn't even think properly. The squelch of his cock driving into you roughly rang in your ears and with a sharp inhale, you felt the tension within you reach its peak. Your muscles tensed, your breath caught in your throat, and then, with an explosive release, you cried out his name.
He groaned as he felt you pulsating around him, your walls gripping him tightly. He continued to move within you, riding out your orgasm as his thrusts grew harder, more urgent until he couldn't hold back any longer.
"I need to see you," he breathed as he pulled out of you. Then he flipped you onto your back, guiding one of your legs over his shoulder as he settled between your thighs once more. The change in position brought you closer, the heat of your bodies mingling as you met his gaze.
Without a word, he pushed himself back into you, the slick heat of your cunt enveloping him. You watched him through half-lidded eyes, feeling your body growing sticky, every inch of you glistening with sweat, but his gaze remained fixated on you, unwavering and intense.
"So pretty," he murmured, his hand finding your face and cupping your cheek, absorbing your features in the dim lighting of the room. "My beautiful wife."
You whimpered as he dragged his hand down your skin, thumb brushing over your lips as he felt your hot breath on his fingertip. He watched your eyes switch between widening and fluttering half shut while he began pumping into you.
Spencer couldn't keep his eyes off of you as you took his cock eagerly, your breasts bouncing each time he thrust forward, your mouth hanging open with your tongue slipping out of your mouth. A whine followed through as his hand moved down to your neck, practically holding you in place as his hips collided against your own.
He gave a slight pressure around your throat, and your head began to loll against the mattress, chin pointed in the air in pleasure. The squeezing sensation was now beginning to take over your body, spreading from across your cheeks, to your ears, and up to your eyes, tears pooling right at the corner. The feeling even reached your stomach, tightening and coiling with the signal of your impending orgasm.
Was this your fourth orgasm? Your fifth? You couldn't keep track; all you knew was the overwhelming sensation prickling your skin. The bed below you felt as if it was on fire. The metal digging around your wrist burned with absolute pleasure.
His thrusts grew more intense, each movement raw and unrestrained, as if he was pouring all his pent-up emotions into you. He seemed to lose himself in the moment, his grip on your neck firm but not painful, but it was enough to make you gasp, your body trembling with pleasure, eyes rolling at the back of your head.
You were instantly gone.
A filthy cry fell between your lips as another orgasm crashed over you, more intense than the last. At some point you were gasping for air, feeling your body going limp but he didn’t stop. His hips had a mind of their own. You could feel them beginning to move like they were possessed, with no regard for your pleasure, and in a way, no regard for his.
“Oh god—fuck!” You cried, arching your back as much in this position.
He groaned and leaned in, his arms pressing against the bed on either side of you as he pushed your leg up to your shoulder. He tried to kiss you, but the force of his movements made it hard. Instead, his lips hovered just above yours, both of you breathing heavily and moaning into each other's mouths.
Eyelids drooped a bit too low as your mouth went completely ajar, exhaling weakly. It didn’t take long for another wave of pleasure to rush through your body. You convulsed beneath him, thighs quivering violently as you tried to angle your body away from him, the pleasure almost unbearable now.
Through the haze of your orgasm, you caught a glimpse of him throwing back his head with his eyes screwed shut. Then he finally groaned—his movements slowing, breath sputtering from his lungs as he exploded, pumping once, twice, three times all before coming to a halt, cock twitching inside you.
You watched the sweat bead down his forehead as you both worked silently to relax your bodies, pulses pounding in ruthless rhythm. With a deep, contented sigh he finally slid himself out of you before going through his discarded pants on the floor.
After a moment, he returned to you and unlocked the handcuff from your wrist, the sound of the lock clicking echoing in the room. The chains fell onto the bed with a soft thud as he gently took hold of your hands.
“Are you okay?"
You nodded, offering him a reassuring smile. "I'm okay."
He pressed a tender kiss to both of your wrists, his lips lingering over your pulse for a moment. "I didn't hurt you, did I?" he asked anxiously, his eyes raking over your body. "Was I too rough? Did I—""
"Spencer, relax," you whispered, you took his hand in yours. "I'm good. I promise."
"You sure?" he asked, his face still tight with concern.
"Yes, more than good. Just come cuddle with me?"
He hesitated, his eyes scanning over your body for a few seconds longer. After he seemed satisfied you really were okay, he lowered onto the bed beside you and you drew his head to your chest. Your fingers gently played with his hair, watching as he slowly relaxed into you, throwing one of his arms across your stomach.
"Thank you," he whispered. "I... I think I needed that."
Your attention shifted to his face, happy to see his expression finally somewhat peaceful as he lay just above your breasts. His eyes were closed, the tension you'd noticed on his face when he'd arrived entirely gone now.
Gently running your fingers through his hair, you whispered, "Of course, baby. Anytime you need me, I'm here."
His lips curved into a small, contented smile as he nestled closer to you. "I love you."
A surge of warmth filled your chest at his words. "I love you too," you whispered back. "But are you okay? Do you want to talk about what happened at work?"
You felt him shift as he shook his head. "Maybe later. I just want to hold you right now."
You gently kissed the crown of his head before pulling him closer. Spencer sighed happily as he snuggled closer to you, listening to the steady rhythm of your heartbeat against your chest. He then reached over your breasts, his thumb trailing over the marks he had left on your skin.
"I didn't realize you enjoyed that so much."
You shrugged the shoulder beside his head. "It's hard not to. I mean, I think I've always liked it when you're in control, and that doesn't only apply to sex."
He leaned back to look at you. "Really?"
You nodded, a small smile playing on your lips. "Yeah. Remember the first time we started dating and someone broke into my apartment?"
"How could I forget?" he replied, a frown tugging at his brows as he recalled the memory. “That was one of the scariest moments in my life.”
"Right. You thought some serial killer was targeting me when it was just a random robbery. But the way you handled the situation..." you continued, your voice softening. "When you took charge and made sure I was safe, I realized how much I trusted you. And I remember thinking, 'Damn, my boyfriend's pretty cool.'"
His frown melted away, replaced by a warm smile at your words. "You thought I was cool?"
You chuckled, nodding as you met his gaze. "You're cool, smart, and hot at the same time," you teased. "What I'm trying to say is, I like it when you're in control because I like to depend on you. You make me feel safe and cared for."
His expression softened even further, a tender warmth filling his eyes. "I like it when you depend on me too," he confessed softly. With a gentle tug, he sat up, bringing you along. "Come on then, let me care for you now."
You looked up at him. "Yeah? What do you have in mind?"
"I think we both need that nice warm bath."
You smiled, already feeling the tension in your muscles ease at the thought of a soothing bath with him. "Will you wash my hair too?"
He pushed a strand of hair off your face, his heart swelling with affection at the look in your eyes. How could he resist when you looked at him like he hung up the moon for you?
"Of course," he replied without hesitation. "I'll do whatever you want me to do."
#spencer reid#spencer reid smut#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid x you#spencer reid x self insert#spencer reid x fem!reader#spencer reid drabble#spencer reid one shot#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid fanfiction#criminal minds fanfic#gifwriting#spencer reid x reader smut#dr spencer reid#spencer reid x y/n
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smutty brainrot part 3...?
you lay spread out on a desk, simon's desk no less, with papers scattered all around you in an attempt to clear the space.
between your spread legs knelt johnny, eagerly lapping up the evidence of your arousal like a man starved.
but your eyes weren't on him, instead they were simon who simply loomed in the corner, eyes roaming your body unashamedly. his mask was rucked up from when johnny pulled him into a kiss not 5 minutes earlier.
when he catches you watching him, the bastard only smirks smugly.
"oh gods," you moan, your eyes shutting in bliss as johnny presses his fingers in.
simon clicks his tongue, making his way over before grasping your chin. "eyes on me, pretty girl," he says, but your body refuses to obey his words.
he clicks his tongue again disapprovingly, gripping slightly harder.
"are you gonna make me repeat myself, love?"
this time you force your eyes open despite the flush of embarassment.
"there we go, that wasn't so hard, was it?"
somehow even more arousal pools in the pit of your stomach, your mind growing hazy.
"keep talking, l.t, our girl seems to like it," johnny says before delving back in. this time he swirls his tongue around your clit, and your back arches of the table involuntarily.
simon hums, pressing his hand down on your lower belly to keep you in place. that only serves to heighten the pleasure, and you feel yourself rushing towards that peak.
"you're doing so good, love. taking it so well," he murmurs into your ear, and you practically sob in pleasure.
"im close, oh fuck please, im so close," you say with a shudder.
"come on, cum for us pretty girl," simon says, and like a switch flipped you cum immediately, johnny's fingers and tongue helping you ride through your orgasm.
but soon after, it transitions from being 'too good' to 'too much', but johnny was always known for his voracious appetite after all.
you can't even gasp out the words, but simon can read you like the back of his hand.
"that's enough," simon mutters gruffly, a quiet 'tsk' escaping his lips as he grabs johnny by the hair, yanking him away from between your legs.
his eyes are dazed, drunk on the taste of you and your pleasure as he grins goofily.
"so...round two?"
#RAHHHHHH#i will not mention where and when i came up with this idea LMAO#gods the ghoap brainrot is so real#send help#one day i will actually write a full fledged fic i promise#im supposed to be studying oops#simon riley#simon ghost riley#simon#simon riley x reader#simon riley x you#john soap mactavish#john soap mctavish x reader#johnny#johnny mactavish#soap mactavish#soap mactavish x reader#soap mactavish x you#ghoap x reader#ghoap#simon riley x john mactavish x reader#polyamory#poly 141 x reader#simon riley smut
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Miguel O’Hara x reader - Come to bed
Warnings: fem reader, smut, nsfw, AFAB language, piv sex, overstimulation, and a slightly annoyed Miguel. You and Miguel are also married btw.
Basically, sleepy Miguel fucks you because you wouldn’t come to bed and let him sleep. Fluffy at first, then turns smutty.
Miguel walked into the kitchen, immediately squinting his eyes and bringing his hand up to block the glaring lights of the kitchen as he grumbled. “¿Amor? Dios mios…”
Your husband was always a sight to behold, in all of his forms- but the sweet domesticity of this one must be one of the best. The way he stood before you in nothing but his boxers- how his voice was still deep and gravely from waking up- the way he rubbed the sleep from his bleary eyes- it was perfect.
Miguel shuffled his feet, coming up behind you and wrapping his arms around your waist, pulling you flush against his chest and resting his chin on top of your head as he mumbled his complaints. “What are you doing up? Love, It’s 2 AM. Why are all the lights on?”
“I was hungry…” You murmur, looking down at the plate of mix-matched leftovers you had scrounged from the fridge.
“Yes, pretty. I can see, but why does warming up leftovers require you to turn on every light in the house.” Miguel said, poking fun at you as his fingers crept under the hem of your shirt, caressing the soft skin of your stomach as he pressed a kiss to the top of your head.
You can’t help the smile that spreads across your face at Miguel’s teasing. “Go back to bed, Miguel. I’ll be there in a minute.”
Miguel, however, did not go back to bed. He instead followed you around, sitting down with you on the couch and holding you tightly against him
“You’re like a lost puppy, Miguel. Can you not sleep without me there?” You tease, looking back and smirking at Miguel.
Miguel, for his part, looks practically asleep behind you- his eyes half closed as he rests his head on your shoulder, mumbling barely intelligible words into the crook of your neck. “‘m not a puppy. ‘m a wolf… a big, bad, scary, and protective wolf.”
The (frankly, adorable) sight is enough to send a pang of guilt through your chest from keeping your poor, exhausted husband awake- so you do your best to quickly eat the food you’ve made for yourself.
Once you’ve finished, you had to wake Miguel up, but once he was awake, he was immediately herding you back towards the bedroom. With one hand on your back, gently pushing you forward through the hall, and the other rubbing at his tired eyes.
You couldn’t help but giggle at his incessant nudges. “Hey! Miguel! I gotta go pee first!”
“Nu-uh. Nothing else. Back to bed.”
“Miguel!!” You laughed, ducking under his arm and running into the bathroom, locking the door behind you.
You went to the bathroom as fast as you could, but not fast enough for Miguel, who stood outside the door whining the entire time.
“¡Por favor! ¡Date prisa, amor!”
When you finished and unlocked the door, you found a rather pitiful looking Miguel on the other side- who immediately scooped you up in his arms and carried you to your bedroom despite the light hearted protest you mounted against him.
“Miguel!! I gotta brush my teeth before I go back to bed! I just ate!!” You say, grinning as you squirmed in his arms and managed to slip away. Only for a strong arm to wrap around your waist and pull you back, hoisting you up in the air and over Miguel’s shoulder.
“That’s it. You’re coming to bed right now. No ifs, ands, or buts. Except your butt, in bed.”
You couldn’t deny the shiver Miguel’s words sent through you. This poor man- your dear husband- who was so clearly exhausted and wanted nothing more than to lay down with his wife and go back to sleep. However... there was a threat in those words. One that you were itching to press him on.
“But- Miguel!” You whined, only to be cut off by a harsh slap to your ass and a startled yelp escaping you.
“I said, no buts.” Miguel growled, tossing you onto the bed and climbing on top of you.
You couldn’t help the burning need quickly growing inside of you, because Miguel looked practically primal above you. With his messy, sleep-tousled hair- the way his voice was still just as deep and scratchy as when he first got up- how perfect he looked above you, in nothing but his boxers as he pinned you down on the bed.
Miguel yanked down your pajama bottoms and underwear, eliciting a surprised yelp from you at the sudden rush of cold air. “You always decide to be a brat at the worst times. You couldn’t just listen tonight and come to bed one of the five times I told you. No, you had to keep running around and doing whatever the hell else you felt like doing. And now, you're going to stay in this bed, whether you like it or not.”
The sudden press of Miguel’s large, warm, and calloused thumb against your hole was enough to make you clench around nothing , pressing your hips down to try and get some of that thumb inside of you. Only for Miguel yo scoff and pull his hand away.
“No. Don’t move. You’re going to be a good girl and sit there and take it. I stayed up with you for the past half hour, waiting patiently for you. So now, it’s your turn. You're gonna lay right here and take exactly what I give you, got it?”
You quickly nodded your head, desperate enough for his touch that you’d probably agree to just about anything.
Miguel growled, pressing the tip of his cock against your hole and just barely pressing it in- rubbing it against your lips as he spoke to you. “You’re so wet for me already, you don’t even need any prep, do you?”
Your cunt tensed around nothing as his cock slid over your hole, nearly making you start to beg for him to just put it in already- only for him to push his entire length in as soon as you opened your mouth to speak- resulting in a loud moan falling from your lips as he bottomed out.
Miguel smiled to himself, looking at you with a clear air of pride at how loud he just made you moan for him. “You seem much more docile now that I have you all stretched out on my cock, pretty lady.” He comments, pulling out slowly, only to thrust back in and begin to fuck into you, quickly establishing a brutal pace.
“Is this the only way I can get some sleep around here? Do I have to fuck all the energy out of you? Hm?” Miguel asks as yet another embarrassing moan falls from your lips at his words.
Moans fell freely from your mouth as the lewd sounds of sex filled the room. With Miguel’s pace, it wasn’t long before you felt your orgasm start to build.
You cry out, reaching a hand down to hold Miguel’s. “Miguel! Miggy! Miggy I’m close! ’m gonna cum!”
“Good.” Miguel growls, intertwining your’s and his fingers and pressing your hand against the pillow. “Cum for me, love.”
all you can do is nod dumbly as your orgasm washes over you- Miguel reaching down to play with your clit as he continued to fuck you through your orgasm.
As you came down from your high, you realized Miguel was still fucking into you- the pleasure from just seconds ago quickly turning into painful overstimulation.
“I-it’s too much!! T-too much!” You whined, desperately trying to squirm off of Miguel’s cock, only for him to smile and take your other hand, intertwining your fingers and pinning both hands down- holding you in place as he fucked you harder on his cock.
“Remember what I said? Take what I give you?” Miguel said, smirking and fucking into you with new intensity as he held you in place. “Well it’s a two way street. You always have to take what I give you. Whether it’s not enough, or too much. I don’t care. You’re. Going. To. Take it.” Miguel punctuated each of his final words with deep, powerful thrusts. Leaving you nothing but an overstimulated mess beneath him, whining as his hips stuttered and you felt his cum fill you up.
Miguel didn’t pull out, still hovering over you as he panted and caught his breath.
After a moment, he scooped you up in his arms and rolled both of you onto your sides, holding you tightly against his chest and kissing your forehead as he murmured sweet praises into your ear.
“You’re so pretty for me. So good to me too. You feel so good, you know that? You’re so warm- so soft and perfect for me. You’re always perfect for me, love.”
You nodded sleepily, happily curled up in Miguel’s strong arms- his cock and cum warming you from the inside out, and the thick comforter that Miguel pulls up encasing you and him in a warm cocoon of shared body heat. You couldn’t help but press closer to Miguel’s chest, your eyes slipping shut as you relaxed in his embrace.
In the end, Miguel finally got what he wanted- laying in bed, warm and cozy under the covers, holding his wife against his chest as he fell asleep. Although, there would be a bit of a mess in the morning to deal with.
#miguel x reader#miguel o'hara#miguel spiderverse#smut#atsv miguel#miguel spiderman#miguel smut#miguel o’hara x reader#miguel o'hara x reader#miguel ohara#miguel x y/n#miguel o’hara smut#miguel x you#across the spiderverse#atsv smut#miguel o’hara fic#miguel o’hara x y/n#miguel o’hara x you#miguel o’hara fanfiction#fluff#then smut#miguel ohara fluff#miguel o’hara fluff#fem!reader#fem reader#miguel o’hara x fem!reader
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Jealousy
A.N: OMG I am finally starting this blog. I am so so excited. This is a Benedict Bridgerton fic ofc. The true loml. I'm still debating if I will write only Bridgerton orrrrrr others? I dunno... but for now, here is a lovely, smutty, cutie, Ben fic hehe <3
Warnings: semi-public sex, fingering, vaginal sex, drinking, dirty talk, heavy praise, talk of public heavy petting ;)
Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader
Minors DNI!! 18+
He sighs from beside Eloise, shifting on the picnic blanket for what has to be the millionth time. "Brother, you worry too much about that woman." She mutters with an amused glint in her eye, taking a bite of one of the strawberry tarts the family maids had made for the occasion.
A family picnic was not a rarity during the social season, especially for the Bridgerton's. What was a rarity is that Benedict had invited a woman along, an incredibly important woman at that. Y/N L/N, a daughter of an influential Viscount. The woman he found himself to be head over heels in love with.
"I am not worried. I am merely observing so our brother does not make a fool of himself in front of her." He replies with a huff, taking a sip from his flask before tucking it back into his pocket.
You were merely speaking with his brother. His happily married older brother. He has no reason to be jealous, really, but something in him still tugs painfully at the sight of you speaking to another man. It is only when Kate comes to steal her husband away that you scootch back over to him, a bright smile on your face.
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You move back over to Benedict and look up at his cute pouty expression, smiling at the warmth that blooms in your chest as a result.
You wished to get to know his family before the inevitable happens. Marriage. You know, as well as he does, that you were both going to tie the knot as soon as it was acceptable to do so. You also know that he would scoop you up and marry you tomorrow if he had his way.
At the very first ball of the season, Lady Danbury insisted that she had someone for you to meet. Someone who enjoyed painting just as much as you did. So, she took your arm and led you away from your father to the Bridgerton family. You were confused, at first, when the already happily married Viscount, Anthony, turned to greet you. And then, as if the sea was parting, he appeared. A crooked grin on his face as he moved to see you. Benedict Bridgerton, although he is a second son, stole your heart as soon as you saw him.
From then on you waited with bated breath for every dance you would share, dreamt of him in your bedroom when you got home, and thought of nothing but him in between. You shared stolen glances at every event and even snuck off to any hidden corner or garden you could find for breathless kisses and entirely impolite words that sent your mind into a whirlwind you could not explain.
Soon enough, he started inviting you on promanades and even sooner he wished for you to dine with his family. Get to know his life outside of the stuffy ballroom, to which you found yourself falling even deeper in love than you could've ever imagined.
"You're pouting, Ben." You hum, taking a sip of your lemonade with an eyebrow raised in curiosity. "Indeed. Perhaps if you were not so caught up with my brother I would not have a reason to pout, hm?" He returns, moving to take another sip from his flask.
He was jealous? Of his married brother? You sigh and move your hand over his, shaking your head slightly. You hand him a glass of lemonade. If he truly is jealous, the last thing he needs is whiskey.
"If you truly wish to hear what we were talking about, I shall tell you." You return as he takes a sip of the lemonade you gave him. He moves his hand over yours, just out of sight of his family. A possessive gesture that makes your heart flutter.
"Yes, in fact, do enlighten me." He grumbles with a sigh. "His wife, Benedict. He was talking about his lovely wife, which if you have forgotten, happens to be my dear friend." You sigh, running your thumb over his knuckles.
He looks over at you, his green eyes sweeping down to your lips, then your chest, before finally looking back up. "I care not of what you were speaking about, I should like you to speak with me when it is I who invited you." He practically growls, the tone of his voice making the place between your legs heat up and dampen instantly. A feeling that only happened with him, something he had explained as both desire and arousal.
"You know that I-" You begin, but are cut off by him pulling you to your feet. The glasses of lemonade are now completely forgotten. "Mother, I should like to promenade with Lady Y/N." He fibs.
What he would really like to do is rip the skirt of your dress open, spread your legs wide, and plunge his cock so deep inside of your soaked cunt that you forget everything else. He wants to paint your insides with his seed right here, in front of the whole ton, so that every man can get a glimpse of who you truly belong to.
"Of course, dear. We shall not keep you." Violet replies with a smile before delving back into conversation with Eloise, who also looks up with a confused expression but quickly rolls her eyes and continues to speak to her mother.
You shoot him a questioning look to which he just raises an eyebrow and offers his arm. You take it and he begins to lead you away from the picnic canopies that many families have set up to dine under.
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"Where are we going?" You question after a moment, realizing that you are not following the path around the lake but rather the path to the carriages.
He stops and tugs you behind a tree, pushing you up against the trunk. The bark bites into the little exposed skin the back of your dress grants you and your cunt flutters when you see his expression.
Desire is different for men, he taught you. You can see it in the way his trousers tighten at the front and in the way his eyes haze over. His hands move to your waist and he bends down, pressing kisses all the way up your neck until he reaches your ear.
"Agree to marry me and I shall show you." He whispers, biting the soft flesh beneath your ear causing you to shiver and whine. He grins and licks over the tender skin, soothing the sting.
"You already know very well that I would say yes to any proposal you give me." You breathe, leaning your head back as your eyes flutter shut. His hand skates over your stomach, running up the smooth fabric of your dress until he meets your breast. He cups one and swipes his thumb over your hardened nipple through the fabric.
He pulls away, swiping the saliva off his bottom lip with his thumb before picking you up. You squeal and he chuckles, paying the driver of his carriage off before tucking you inside. He closes the door and the curtains on the window, darkness enclosing the both of you.
"Benedict." You whisper as he lays you back on the velvety bench. "Hush, my love. I shall not do anything before asking I swear it." The title makes your heart almost burst out of your chest. He dips down once more, pressing his lips to yours briefly.
You pull him back down before he gets very far, chasing one of those open-mouthed kisses he gave you at the last ball. He groans, his tongue swiping over yours. He grins over your lips at the sound that escapes, moving his hands to yours where they rest on his chest before breaking the kiss.
"Ben please." You whine, wanting him to continue so desperately. He only smiles, taking off your gloves. "You must have patience, my sweet girl. I am going to ravish you in due time." He assures, pressing soft kisses from your palm all the way up to your shoulder as he takes off his gloves as well.
He reaches your neck, to which he takes a deep breath. Taking in your scent of lavender and citrus, making him groan as it always does. "Do you remember when I taught you to ride my thigh?" He whispers, running his tongue down to your collarbone, nipping the skin.
The memory makes you flood your underwear. You remember well, how could you not? He had lead you to the garden at one of Lady Danbury's balls and sat you down on his lap on the edge of the fountain. He hiked up your skirt and led your hips back and forth until something inside of you snapped so hard you saw stars and stained his trousers. That is where he taught you about his arousal, about yours.
"Yes." You breathe, your eyes fluttering shut as one of his hands moves under your skirt. His slender fingers skating teasingly up your thigh. "Good girl." He praises. He cups your cunt without warning and you cry out, your hips canting.
"Fuck. You are absolutely drenched." He whispers, relishing in the moans he draws from your body just from keeping a hand over your cunt. "And I told you about sex, do you remember that darling?" He murmurs, watching your eyes flutter.
He slowly pushes your skirt up so he can slide off your panties. He tucks them into his pocket, smiling to himself. "Yesss." You moan as the air hits your bare sex. "You told me it happens when we get married." You whisper between whines as his hand comes back, his fingers curling into your pubic hair.
"Such a good listener. So good for me." He praises, sliding two of his fingers along your drenched slit before finding your clit with expert touch. He rubs a slow circle on your button and you moan loudly, throwing your head back. "Now, when a man has honor he waits to take a woman's innocence. But my honor disappeared when I saw you with my brother," You try and protest but he pinches your clit and you cry out before you can get so much as a whisper out.
"So I will take you now. In this damn carriage." He growls, moving his free hand to your hips to hold you down. You whine when his fingers move down. "Fuck you are perfect," He breathes. "I'm going to slide one of my fingers inside now, darling, alright?" He murmurs, the switch from possessive to sweet sending your mind reeling. So overwhelmed, so mindless Just how he likes you.
You nod tentatively, your heart rate spiking which he picks up on. He shifts so he is over you, and kisses the crown of your head. "I'll go slow, hm? Nice and slow. All you need to do is pat my arm twice and I'll stop." He assures, calming your heart. You nod and nuzzle his neck.
He slowly plunges a long finger into your weeping cunt and you whine at the invasion. "Good girl, fuck you are so tight." You gasp and writhe as he curls his finger, the feeling sending a shock straight to your clit. He slowly adds another finger and you moan loudly, your eyes rolling back.
"Ben... so good. Feels...." You cry out when his fingers curl into a spot that sends waves of pleasure through you. He grins and begins to rock his fingers, drawing heavenly noises from your soaked cunt. The carriage filled with the sound of your moans and the squelching of your pussy.
He licks a stripe up your neck, beginning to suck as he rocks his fingers. You curl a hand in his thick curls and tug, your hips desperately trying to move against the palm of his hand.
He kisses your jaw, and then your chin, before finally capturing your lips. His tongue immediately sliding past your swollen lips and tangling with yours. You moan into his mouth as his thumb presses down on your swollen clit, moving clockwise as he rocks his fingers into your body.
He breaks the kiss and pulls out his fingers, much to your dismay, before unbuttoning his trousers. "Benedict... why did you stop? It felt so very nice..." You whine, grinding on nothing to try and gain some sort of feeling.
He groans at the sight, bending down and pressing a sloppy kiss to your cheek. "My harlot of a fiancee. So needy for something she does not even know the half of." He praises as he slowly frees his cock, the sight along with his filthy words making you gasp.
He pulls back and strokes himself with the help of your delicious wetness, before looking back at your sweet face. All flushed and wide-eyed. He moves his free hand to your chin, running his thumb over your bottom lip.
"It will not fit, Benny." You whisper, suddenly frightened. His eyes soften and he moves down pressing a swift kiss to your lips. "It will, my love. We will go slow, I promise. Remember what I told you, two pats on my arm and we will stop." He hums, peppering your face with kisses which causes you to giggle and calm a bit. "Perhaps one pat for apprehension, hm?" He murmurs with a smile, pulling back. You nod.
"Good girl." He hums. He leans in and runs his length through your soaked folds drawing moans from the both of you. "Fuck. God, I love you." He grunts and you smile, draping your arms over your eyes to cover your blush. "I love you too, Benedict." You whisper back.
He slowly pushes into your body, throwing his head back at how tight your pretty pussy is. You cry out at the invasion, your hands shooting down to grasp at the edges of the carriage bench. The feeling is a strange mix of pain and something different. A tart taste on your tongue paired with a tingly feeling in your already hot womb. "Fucking hell." He groans before tucking his face in the crook of your neck, stopping halfway so you can adjust.
You whine and wrap your arms around his neck after a moment. "P-Please..... more. I need more, Benedict." You gasp after the pain subsides. God, he almost comes right there. He wants you like this all the time, mindless for his cock. Begging him to fuck you.
"Good fucking girl, Y/N." He grunts before bottoming out inside of you. You moan and toss your head back into the seat cushion and he groans at the feeling. "You feel so good, my love. So ripe, so wet. God, so very tight just for me." He praises.
He begins to move slowly, the slap of thighs meeting thighs filling the carriage. The feeling is so foreign but fuck you never want it to stop. Moans and whines slip past your lips before you can even begin to try and stop them, and you cry out as he speeds up. The noises he is drawing from your body would embarrass you if you didn't adore the way he feels inside of you to the point that you can think of nothing else. You wish to be like this as much as you can, full to the brim with his cock.
"Benedict." You moan and he stalls, gritting his teeth. "Never ever stop moaning my name, you vixen. God, I am a lucky man. The luckiest man in the world." He praises you as he begins to slam into you.
You grip his coat so hard you are surprised the velvety fabric hasn't torn. You cry out when his thumb finds your clit, the feeling sending you up to the clouds. "Come for me, my love." He grunts from above you with a slight slap on your thigh. That sends you over, your vision going white as you scream his name.
He thrusts a few more times before pulling out and pumping himself. He releases with a groan onto your stocking-covered thigh before collapsing on top of you.
After a moment he lifts his head to look at you, brushing your fallen hair out of your face. You smile, almost drunkenly, as you look at him. "That was heavenly." You whisper and he smirks, pressing a kiss to your lips.
"Just wait until we are married. I cannot wait to fill you with my seed and see you plump with my child." He murmurs. resting his head back on your shoulder. Your hand absentmindedly finds his hair, running through his messy curls.
"We have to go back." You whisper to which he shakes his head. "Not yet. I paid off the driver. We have as much time to rest as we wish, dearest." He hums, his eyes closed. You grin and close yours as well, slowly dozing off with him.
You are the luckiest woman in the world.
#benedict bridgerton smut#benedict bridgerton#bridgerton#fanfic#benedict bridgerton x reader#bridgerton x reader#bridgerton fanfiction#benedict bridgerton x you#bridgerton imagine#bridgerton fic#smut#fem reader#imagine#x reader#benedict bridgerton oneshot#benedict bridgerton fanfiction#benedict bridgerton x fem!reader#fic#benedict bridgerton fic
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hi bug!! for your shy!reader requests, idk if you’re going smutty w them but if you ARE: I love the concept of reader being generally pretty quiet, which extends to r’s sex life bc they’ve never thought to b otherwise… enter Hawkins’ own loudmouth DM who takes it upon himself to coax every noise out of reader that he can 💖🫡
ty for requesting! here's my first attempt at smut on here since 2023 :D — eddie teaches his quiet gf how to be louder in the bedroom (shy!fem!r, smut 18+)
Eddie’s face appears from beneath the covers — pale cheeks flushed, chestnut hair wild. He’s still got his ringed fingers wrapped ‘round your thighs, clutching you with the same intensity he’d had when his face was shoved between them.
He blinks at you with chocolate eyes and drags his tongue across his lip. His pink mouth is softly swollen with use and glittering with your honey. “Is this okay?” he slurs between labored pants.
You lift your swimmy head from the pillow and peer at him through the valley of your breasts, rising and falling with each deep breath. You nod until the words catch up to you. “Yeah. Yeah, it’s— it’s good,” you answer breathlessly, though you don’t think that describes the half of it.
There aren’t enough words in the English language you could string together to describe how he makes you feel. How good he is with his tongue. How you’re throbbing clit still pounds like a heartbeat for more of him.
“Okay. Good,” he huffs with a lazy nod.
His fingers fidget around your thighs when he shifts on the mattress, wincing slightly when his sensitive cock ruts against it. “I just… I wanted to make sure, you know? ‘Cause you weren’t… You weren’t really… Saying anything.”
He forces out a chuckle to keep the honeyed mood light while horror floods your features. Your eyes soften around the edges with worry. “What was I… What was I supposed to say?” you squeak.
“Nothing!” he answers quickly, eyes going wide when he senses your panic. “It’s just… Most— Most people moan when they feel good and stuff…” His lip quirks in a lopsided smile before a laugh sputters from them. “I mean, you’ve heard me. I’m fucking loud.”
He is. He’s more than loud, actually — full of gruff moans, pretty whimpers, and neverending praise. He never leaves you with an ounce of worry when you’re with him ‘cause he’s constantly rambling about how good you feel.
“Fuck, baby, that’s good— Oh, shit,” he babbled while he fucked your mouth, some minutes ago now. He whimpered after, high-pitched and faraway.“Gonna make me cum— so fucking hard— in your pretty little throat. Fuck, angel. Fuck—”
You writhe on the mattress, feeling suddenly uncomfortable in your own skin.
You become acutely hyperaware of how bare you are below him, with his face mere inches from your glistening pussy and his chocolate eyes swimming with warmth. You feel more naked than you already are. Totally fucking see-through.
“Sorry,” you murmur sheepishly. “I just… I guess, I’m just quiet. I don’t know.”
Eddie smiles like he isn’t wearing your slick all over his chin. “That’s okay,” he assures with an innocuous twinkle in his eye. “But you don’t have to be. You know that, right?”
You blink at him until you realize the question isn’t rhetorical.
His smile falls into a mischievous smirk when you nod.
“Be as loud as you want for me, yeah? Make all the noise you want…”
—————
He’s a menace.
Eddie Munson is a total fucking menace.
He doesn’t eat your pussy like it’s the last thing he’ll ever do. No, he takes his good and well time with you — like he plans on doing this, and only this, for the rest of his life.
Your inner thighs are slick with saliva. His spit drips down your ass, along with your honey, as his tongue laps mercilessly at your cunt. Slowly, gently, agonizingly. It’s like he can’t help but be so sloppy. Like he can’t help but drool all over your pussy ‘cause he loves it so damn much.
“Eddie, please,” you whine through heavy pants, clammy hands cradling your knees to keep them spread for him. “I wanna cum, Eddie. Please, I wanna cum.”
If he’s doing all this to get you talking, well, it’s fucking working.
His mouth smacks when it parts from your sensitive clit. The delicate button is as swollen as his lips are now. His pretty face is utterly blissed out — mouth rosy, eyes lidded, cheeks flushed. Like he’s found heaven in your pussy.
“Shit,” he huffs with a crooked smile, still a bit breathless. “You taste too good… Got me all distracted… Wasn’t tryin’ to tease you, babe, I swear.”
He pulls back the sticky hood of your cunt with a ringed hand. You keen when his thumb rolls over your throbbing clit. “Fuck, Eds,” you gasp — back arched, head thrown back.
“Need it that bad, huh?” He chuckles quietly when your hips buck into his hand, desperate for more.
“Please, Eds,” you beg with your eyes squeezed shut. Tears burn in the very corners of them, stinging like you might cry at how good he’s making you feel. At how badly you want him to make you cum.
Spit dribbles from his pursed mouth onto your already slick pussy. He rubs it in with guitar string-calloused fingers, and your toes curl into the sheets. “Wanna cum?” he slurs, blinking slowly at your trembling form with pretty button eyes. “Wanna cream on my tongue?”
You whine at the vulgarity of his words — and at the lightning strike that rushes down your spine when his merciless fingers graze your pulsing clit. Swallowing down a sob, you nod rapidly against the pillow.
Eddie kisses your pussy like he would your mouth. Your honey clings to him when he pulls away, smirking up at you with glittering lips. “Then keep talking for me, yeah?”
#published by bug#eddie munson x reader#stranger things x reader#eddie munson smut#eddie munson x you#eddie munson x y/n#stranger things imagine#eddie munson imagine#stranger things fanfic#stranger things fanfiction#stranger things fic#stranger things#eddie munson#eddie munson fanfiction#eddie munson fanfic#eddie munson fic#st drabbles#eddie spaghetti drabble
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An Education in Malice
Pairing: Vanserra!Reader x Azriel
Summary: With the sharp tongue of your notorious family, you are Azriel's most tantalizing challenge yet. It only takes one small meeting before you both realize that the line between hate and desire is dangerously thin.
Warnings: 18+ SMUT, rough, angry, hate sex basically. sexual degradation (name calling), p in v penetration, sex in da woods, bickering and insults, inner circle slander
Word Count: 6.6k
a/n: i know technically we wouldnt be a princess... but we r a high lord family so were running with it for the sexual tension. also dedicated to my soulmate and the brilliant babe, @itsswritten who told me to write sumthin smutty like this. thank her 🫡
Part Two
✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹
“Hello, Shadowsinger.”
Azriel’s jaw clenched at the sound.
He’d almost forgotten how grating your voice was to his ears, how it made his body tense with an emotion he could never quite describe. He turned around slowly, taking you in where you stood leaning casually against a tree.
The dress you wore was reminiscent of autumn court elegance, fabric cascading around you in rich hues of crimson, gold, and amber, like the vibrant foliage of the season brought to life, sleeves like flickering flames. There was a sense of wrongness in seeing such an elegant form amidst the wild, your commanding presence even more striking than that of your other family members. If he didn't know who you were, he would have been tempted to describe you as something of unparalleled beauty, a vision amidst a forest of wilderness.
But Azriel knew who you were. He knew what you were.
He had noticed the similarities between you and your brothers quickly, from your mannerisms down to the curve of your lips. You and Eris shared the same snarky smirk– a smirk Az wanted to wipe clean off your faces. You were using it now, holding his gaze with the corners of your lips upturned and amused eyes.
“You look thrilled to see me,” you said.
Az did nothing to hide his disdain as he narrowed his eyes at you. “Where is your brother?”
“Busy,” you responded, absentmindedly running the tips of your fingers along the tree you leaned on. You took a moment to observe the bark before you turned to face Azriel again, a small taunting smile on your lips once more. “I’ll let him know you missed him.”
Azriel held your gaze for a moment, a tick in his jaw as he let out a short exhale. Then, he was turning around to leave, a clear dismissal. A small flicker of anger rose in your body. Quickly, you winnowed in front of him, your sudden appearance setting his shadows into a frenzied dance around him, coalescing into a swirling mass around his neck like a collar of live snakes ready to strike.
“Don’t be rude,” you said, “I’m here on Eris’ behalf. Give me information to report back to him.”
“Nothing to report,” Azriel said, voice flat. He stared at you for a moment, eyes scanning you. And then he was making another notion to leave, brushing past you with a small shove to your shoulder. You nearly laughed at the action, at how easy he was becoming to rile up— at how much your presence bothered him.
“You don’t want to stay and chat?” You said over your shoulder. A flutter of triumph spread in your chest when you heard his footsteps come to a halt. You turned to face him, his back still to you, shadows swirling around his body like black flames. “It’s been so long since we’ve seen each other.”
Azriel turned to face you, a small scowl on his beautiful features. “Not long enough.”
You laughed, the sound stroking his body in a way that sent shivers down his spine. You let out a sigh.
“I get bored in Autumn sometimes, you know?”
Briefly, something flickered in Azriel’s hazel eyes, but it faded faster than you could decipher what it meant or where it came from. He titled his head slightly, eyes taking you in fully.
“Not enough cruelty for you?”
“Something like that.”
You both held each other's stares, his icy gaze against your fiery one. He lifted his chin slightly, rolling his shoulders as if to straighten his already stiff posture. You didn’t miss the way his wings extended slightly from their tucked in position, just enough to stand as a warning, as a reminder of who he was— what he was.
“This is a waste of my time.”
Yet, Azriel made no move to leave— not this time.
“Because you have such important matters to return to?” You asked with a raised brow, “You said it yourself, nothing to report. So, are there some damsels in distress to be saved? Something to make you feel important?”
You made sure to pay extra attention to when you mocked his previous words, tone dropping slightly deeper to imitate his. Azriel’s eyes narrowed even more, a dark wave of evident anger washing through his face, nostrils flared, jaw clenched. You bit the inside of your cheek to contain your grin.
You were playing with something dangerous, this you knew. But Azriel was so fun to rile up, so easy to. You understood, now, why your brother seemed to enjoy these meetings so much. You’d assumed Eris was some sort of masochist, somehow finding pleasure in the necessity of being allies with the Night Court, the same people who so commonly disregarded you and your family as evil and cruel— although, they were right to a certain extent. But perhaps Eris had found some sort of entertainment with this affair.
“Stop talking,” was Azriel’s only reply.
“Why?”
He took a step forward. You made sure to stay still, to hold his gaze as he peered down at you.
“Because you’re trying to get a rise out of me,” Azriel responded, his voice cool, “and it will not work.”
“Oh please,” you scoffed. “Play the unphased act all you’d like, we both know its bullshit.”
He said nothing in response, his eyes remaining locked on yours. Azriel’s stare was harder now, colder. A clear warning was written in his features, carved out between his clenched jaw and narrowed eyes: do not fuck with me.
But you welcomed the challenge. If he wasn’t going to admit it, you were more than willing to prove your point.
“You put my brother in a chokehold in a public meeting. You have no self-control. You’re just constantly one spark away from igniting.”
Azriel growled. “Your brother deserved it.”
You raised your brow in a small taunt.
“Because he called your precious Morrigan a slut?”
Whether Azriel wanted to admit it or not, you were very easily tearing at his resolve. He moved quickly, his hand naturally falling to the dagger at his hip. Shadows moved closer to you, but with a swift movement of your fingers, they were met with the spark of a small flame, quickly retracting back into their mass form near Azriel’s shoulders. You winnowed back to your original place, back against the rough tree bark.
“Careful, Shadowsinger,” you sneered, “You’re forgetting your manners.You didn’t even let me finish.”
Azriel wore a clear scowl now, brows furrowed as he held your gaze from afar, hand still on his weapon. There was something deadly about the way you made him feel, the intensity of those feelings far surpassing any hatred he held for your brothers– Eris, specifically. In truth, the more time Az spent near Lucien, the more he saw him as someone good– and the less similarities he seemed to bear with you, his conniving snake of a sister. You opened your mouth to taunt him once more.
“I don’t agree with my brother,” you said, “Hell, I admire Morrigan for her freedom. I do love a pretty dress. So, I would have called her something else… a liar, perhaps?”
Those words were all it took to light Azriel’s fuse.
Within a blink, he was in front of you, the cold steel of a dagger, Truth-Teller you presumed, pressed against your neck. His wings flared out angrily behind him. Shadows surged around you, a suffocating darkness descending like a shroud, swallowing the sunlight and leaving only a void of darkness. You stared into Azriel's eyes— cold, and angry.
"Shut up," he snarled.
For a moment, a sense of fear flickered deep in your stomach, but you swallowed it down, the flame diminishing before it could properly ignite. Even as his shadows threatened to consume you both whole, you refused to back down, meeting Azriel's gaze with a defiant stare of your own. And then, you grinned. A cruel, wicked gesture that made his blood boil.
“Nice to see you perform without an audience, too.”
Azriel's voice was laden with disdain as he responded, words dripping with venom. "You and your brother are exactly the same."
But instead of flinching at the accusation, you maintained your smirk, unfazed by the blade pressed against your neck. "Which brother? I have quite a few," you countered, your tone teasing, almost playful.
Azriel's grip tightened, images of your family conjuring in his mind. Az could barely remember the names of your other brothers, their features blurring into a blurry mess of fiery auburn and copper. Instead, his mind focused on you– the female before him, under his grip and his dagger, standing next to the two males he despised for different reasons.
“You can decide,” Azriel finally said, “they’re all equally terrible.”
“I’d say Lucien is a good male,” you laughed bitterly, “I’m willing to bet your sweet Elain would agree.”
A surge of fury rose within him, a deep primal instinct to lash out and silence your taunts once and for all. But even as he bristled with anger, he realized you were right.
He was constantly teetering on the edge, one step away from losing control. It had gotten worse recently, watching everyone around him find their place, their people; Elain growing closer to Lucien, his brothers spending time with their mates. Azriel was frustrated. He was angry. You’d done exactly what he told you wouldn’t happen– gotten a rise out of him. He hated it, hated you, hated himself even more.
Azriel took a deep breath, your heated gaze still on him, eyes narrowed, a small smirk on your lips that he filled him with a burning anger. It wasn’t as if he could kill you, no, he couldn’t even really hurt you. One mark on the Vanserra’s youngest and only daughter would be a mark for war. This was a battle Az couldn't win, indulging your provocations for the mere sake of your entertainment. He needed to calm down. Regain control.
The shadows around you began to recede and sunlight filtered back into the clearing as Azriel pushed you away with a snarl. You leaned your head back against the tree as you took a deep breath.
He studied you for a moment before saying, "You'd think someone as pretentious as you wouldn't need to rely on irritating someone for an ounce of attention."
There was a subtle shift in your demeanor—a swallowed response, a flicker of vulnerability. His gaze followed the movement down to the column of your throat.
“Pretentious?”
You gave a bitter laugh.
"Yes, pretentious. All of you Vanserras," Azriel retorted with a bitter edge, “Every single one.”
"That's ironic coming from you. You think we're pretentious?"
Azriel's gaze hardened. "Yes. Cruel, evil, and vile. You think you're better than all of us."
Your mouth widened as you scoffed. And then you let out a laugh of disbelief.
"Oh my Gods, does it ever get tiring?" you retorted, your voice dripping with sarcasm. "Wallowing in your own self-pity and then using it as a means to hate everyone outside of your incestuous little circle?"
"Do not speak of my family," Azriel snapped.
You smirked. “So you admit your family is incestuous?”
Azriel said nothing, a sudden realization that his anger, once again, had beat him to his rationality, somehow giving you another weapon to use against him. He clenched his jaw, feeling a simmering heat building in his stomach.
"You stand in front of me and pretend to be shocked when I call you for what you are?" he countered with a sneer, “Your family isn't quiet about their disdain for my family, for my kind, or for me."
You lifted your chin. “You don’t even like your own kind, Shadowsinger.”
There was another flare of his nostrils and you knew that you’d gotten him once again. Azriel’s fists clenched at his sides, a sight lost to you as his shadows covered them. You continued as he stayed silent.
“I will admit, my family can be a bit narrow minded. Why would I hate you for the things you can’t control? Where's the fun in that?”
Again, Azriel remained silent. He knew if he made a move, if he said a word, it would likely be something he regretted, something that would come back to bite him in the ass.
"I don’t hate you because you’re from the Night Court, or an Illyrian, or a bastard, or whatever it is you tell yourself at night," you continued, your words like a dagger aimed at his pride. "I hate you because you are hot-headed and arrogant. You’ve held a grudge against Eris for something that wasn’t his fault and have utterly screwed Lucien to no end. Your little family is a disease.”
Azriel’s resolve was cracking. He didn’t have enough self-control for this, for you. He’d barely mustered up the diplomacy needed to meet with Eris.
“Stop talking,” he said through gritted teeth. He felt it again, the flicker of frustration that threatened to engulf him like an unattended flame.
You gave him a withering glare. “Or what, you’ll make me?”
Azriel blinked, his eyes scanning your body instinctively. There was something about the words you spoke, the way you had spoken them, that made his body shiver. A small jolt of electricity passed through his muscles. Unfortunately for him, you caught it as quick as it manifested. Your eyes widened as you let out a dry laugh, forming a small smirk on your lips.
“Oh my gods,” you said, taking a step closer, “I bet you’d like that, wouldn't you? Is that why you’re such an ass today?
Azriel’s wings twitched behind him. You gave him a mocking pout as you stared up at him.
“No one to torture, no sweet female to make love to? Poor, powerful, Spymaster.”
Azriel thought for a moment. He thought about the anger boiling in his body, how on edge he’d been, how every little thing had been setting him off. He thought about you, in front of him, a female he despised from previous meetings– loud-mouthed, vicious, and selfish. A female from a family he hated, a family that took things from his family, from him.
And then he began thinking of how great it would feel to show them how wrong they were about him. To prove to them that they weren’t better than him, that he was just as, if not more, powerful than their damned bloodline.
You had been right again. He was pent up. He hadn’t taken a lover recently, hadn’t fucked anyone since that one almost-night with Elain– where she’d been sweet, sensitive, and gentle. But even before, with the females who’d asked for it rough, told him they could handle it, he hadn’t indulged himself too far. He still respected them. They were still wide-eyed and kind, sweet to a certain extent. He didn’t want to hurt them. They were ladies. Azriel respected ladies.
“I said stop talking,” Azriel growled.
There was a tick in his jaw.
“And I said, make me.”
But you, you weren’t a lady. You weren’t sensitive, sweet, or kind. You were a viper. A snake with beautiful lips and a body he found incredibly inviting— not that he’d ever admit it to anyone. But standing in front of him, that defiant look in your eyes, the pride seeping off you, the smirk on your lips… Azriel felt hungry. He felt ravenous.
So, he thought for one more moment. And then he was taking a step forward, one that you matched with an equal stepback.
“Y/n,” Azriel drawled as he continued to take another step. You matched him again, moving back while you glared at him. “Are you not getting enough attention? Is that it?”
Your back hit the tree and you let out a small exhale as Azriel took a final step forward, inches away from you as he stared down with a dark gaze.
“What the fuck are you talking about?” You bit out.
“You know exactly what I’m talking about.”
You attempted to regulate your breathing as his eyes drank you in, a clear and unashamed desire painted over his face.
“Do I look like a fucking mind-reader?”
Azriel gave a dry chuckle. You were unraveling before him, scrambling for control. “Such a vile mouth for a princess.”
“Fuck you.”
“Is that why you came?” He brought a hand to your chin, roughly tilting your face up to look directly at him. “Do you want to be fucked, Y/n?”
The answer was yes, you did. There was a sickening sense of excitement that ran through your blood, a heat pooling between your thighs. But you wouldn’t admit it. You weren’t going to give him the satisfaction, weren’t about to prove him right. So instead you stayed quiet, pulling your face out of his hands and turning your cheek.
“I came for intel,” you said through gritted teeth, “in Eris’ place.”
Azriel gave another chuckle, something dark and humorous. His hand trailed to the side of your neck, pushing the hair off your shoulders to expose the line of your collarbone. You swallowed.
“Interesting,” he said. He leaned in, lips against your ear. “Then what is that desire I smell?”
You let out a sharp exhale as he leaned away. Taking a deep breath, you looked at him, biting the inside of your cheek at your body's betrayal. You needed to balance this.
“Maybe its you that needs a good fuck, Shadowsinger. Like I said, you seem real pent up. Noone quite scratching that itch?”
But Azriel no longer seemed angry at your words, instead, he seemed amused– hungry. He was quiet for a second too long, simply staring at you. A sense of irritation prickled at your skin.
“What?” You snapped.
“I can admit that,” Azriel said coolly, “if you can admit something to me.”
“What, are we trading secrets now? I wasn’t aware this was a children's sleepover.”
Azriel didn’t respond. You registered the movement of a dark shadow as it fled from his body, slowly sneaking around your collarbone. You attempted to hit it away, but it quickly slithered back to Azriel, running up his chest to curl around his ear. He smirked.
“When was the last time someone fucked you, Y/n?”
The air left your lungs as you let out a small gasp. You blinked. Quickly, you regained your composure.
“Excuse me?”
Azriel kept his smirk. “It must be hard getting anyone to touch you when you’re so sheltered by those males you call brothers.”
He reached out a hand to your bare collarbone, but you caught his wrist in your hand, allowing it to hover in your grip. His eyes slowly trailed up to your face, heavy-lidded and darkened with a sense of attention that made your stomach clench.
“What the hell are you getting at?” You sneered.
Azriel simply stared at you, the ghost of a smirk still plastered on his lips. His reactions had you gritting your teeth in anger and rubbing your thighs in anticipation at the same time— you hated it.
“Don’t ask questions you know the answers to.”
“You're pathetic,” you spat, “Save your games for a bitch who cares.”
But you still gripped his hand in yours, still felt the heat radiating off his skin. And you made no motion to move. No motion to let him pull back. Azriel didn’t fail to notice this, either.
“That snarky mouth of yours is going to get you in trouble. But I bet that's why you use it, right?”
Your breathing was heavier now. Azriel’s gaze flickered to where you still gripped his wrist.
“You can fool everyone, Y/n,” he said, “But not me.”
You shouldn’t have enjoyed the way his voice sounded on your skin, shouldn’t have felt a breathlessness filling your body as he spoke to you. But you felt it. And it was a burning, hungry desire that made your chest tighten. This was what you wanted, it was what you needed.
Azriel was right. The bastard had read you like a book. Your family, your brothers, never let anyone near you for fear of embarrassment– fear of you bringing some sense of shame. But Azriel was right. You wanted it. You craved it. You wanted to forget who you were, to give up the control you always had to wield.
Before you could overthink it, you loosened your grip on Azriel’s hand and pulled it towards you, situating it on the side of your throat. You let out a small gasp when he quickly wrapped his fingers around the base of your neck.
And then he was pulling you into him with a deep and angry kiss. All teeth, tongue, and fire, mouths crashing together almost painfully, but neither of you stopped. With every movement of his mouth, of his tongue on yours, a dormant flame deep within you awoke.
A primal desire surged through Azriel’s veins like wildfire, the scent of you– of your want, of your desire– filling his senses in a way that had his cock throbbing. There was no room for rational thought, only the raw, unbridled passion that engulfed him in a fiery embrace. His hand found its way into your hair, fingers brushing along your scalp as he yanked your hair to expose your neck to him. His lips wandered to your exposed collarbone, giving a harsh suck to the skin near the column of your throat.
“Is this what you wanted?”
“Shut up,” you responded, reaching your hands out to fumble with his leather clothes. Azriel pulled back slightly, grabbing your wandering hands in his. You let out a sound of protest as he ran sloppy kissing along your neck.
“Oh how i’d love to fuck that foul mouth of yours,” Azriel murmured against your skin, his mouth reaching your ear. “But we’re short on time.” He took your lobe in between his teeth and you let out a small groan.
“I bet all you’ll need is a few minutes– and that's being generous.”
Azriel’s hand gripped at your waist, traveling up your chest to roughly grab your breast through your dress.
“No wonder you’re so insufferable.” he said, his voice amused as he pulled back, his other hand tugged at your hair once more. “You haven’t been fucked properly.”
You snarled. "Fuck you."
Azriel grinned.
"Oh, princess, I will.”
And then he was pulling the front of your dress down, exposing your bare breasts before him, nipples peaked in the fresh air. You let out a gasp as a small faint ripping sound traveled to your ears. Before you had a chance to react, Azriel was spinning you around, pulling your back against his chest, one hand bracketing your throat as the other traveled down your stomach, grabbing at the fabric at your dress.
"But first, you're going to beg me for it,” he breathed into your ear, his voice so low you felt it more than you heard it. His words traveled straight to your core, leaving you dripping with want. Yet, you refused to let the words leave your lips. You gritted your teeth, bristled at the suggestion— pride and defiance warring within you.
“Like hell I will.”
Azriel made a sound of disapproval, his mouth still running along your ear, “No?” he asked, hand slowly trailing from your throat to your chest, his fingertips leaving goosebumps in their wake. “So you don’t want me to touch you?”
His hand fell over your breast, cupping it in his palm as his thumb brushed over your nipple. You watched as black tendrils of shadow danced around his forearm, meeting where his fingers tweaked your nipple. Their cool gentle touch sent a ripple of sensation through you and your head fell back against him as you let out a small whimper.
“Stop being a fucking tease.”
Azriel found that he loved the way you whimpered, loved the tinge of frustration in your voice as he touched you. Here you were, melting into his touch, attempting to avoid admitting in words what your body was showing in actions.
“I asked you to do something.”
He rolled your nipple between his fingers. You let out a deep exhale, pushing yourself back onto him, grinding into the evident bulge that pressed against you, the thin material of your dress doing nothing to disguise his hardened length.
“Just fuck me already,” you turned your head to catch his gaze, darkened and pupils blown with lust. “I know you want to.”
You covered his hand in yours, molding his hand into your touch, urging him to grab your breast again– harder, firmer.
The corners of his lips quirked up. “That doesn’t matter. Beg for it.”
Agonizingly slow, his hands roamed your trembling form, lighting flames of desire that you almost feared would consume you whole. Second by second, you felt yourself losing control. The heat of his touch seared through you, eroding the last crumbs of your resistance until all that remained was a burning need to be filled by him, to succumb to the primal urges coursing through your veins. You wanted him. You needed him.
“Please,” you whispered, the truth spilling from your lips in a voice so meek you barely recognized it as your own.
"Please what?"
With a trembling breath, you finally let go of the last shreds of your resistance, your voice coming out in a deep, frustrated plea. “Please fuck me.”
Azriel's lips curved into a predatory smirk.
“Good girl,” he said, his voice low and sultry as he pulled away from you. In one movement he was pulling your ass closer to him, forcing your body forward to brace yourself on the tree. In seconds you felt the cool air on your body as Azriel pushed your dress above your hips. Naturally, you felt your body bowing at the sensation. He let out a groan at the sight.
Then he was spreading your legs, baring you before him, glistening cunt on full display. His rough hands gripped your bare ass. He massaged it for a moment, but the motion was brief, and soon you felt a hard hand land on the fat of your cheek. You let out a small shriek, but it was followed by a low moan as he delivered another smack. Azriel smirked at the sound of it, at the sight of your ass reddening with his handprint.
“Are you going to fuck me or not?” You managed to grit out as you pushed your ass out further, “I’m growing bored.”
“Bored?” He ran finger through the wetness that pooled at your core. “Your cunt doesn’t seem to think so.”
You moaned at the feeling, pushing yourself back against his hand.
“Too stubborn to admit anything,” Azriel murmured, “But your body gives you away.”
Azriel took a step back, your body cold at the loss of contact as he freed himself from the confine of his leather pants, each movement filled with a primal urgency that would’ve made him unsettled— embarrassed even— if he had been in a more rational state of mind. But Azriel wasn’t being rational. All he could think about was you, and staring at your beautiful glistening cunt, all he wanted was to fuck you into oblivion, to let his frustrations out. To tame you like a wild animal— his most tantalizing challenge yet.
He settled himself behind you and stroked his cock along your folds, allowing it to glide against your core until both of you were slick with your desire. He teased you slowly as he moved up and down your entrance. You pushed against him, urging him inside, inviting him to take you.
Azriel only laughed darkly at the movements, and you whined in response, frustrated and irritated.
“Remember this the next time you insult me,” he said, “Remember how you were begging for me to fuck you.”
Half a breath later, he pushed himself inside you, sheathing himself to the hilt. You exhaled in tandem, your cunt clenching him, pulsing around the stretch of him. He adjusted his angle and picked up the pace, sending pleasure rising in a wave that you couldn’t hold back, your mouth falling open as he began to take you harder.
You let your forehead fall against your hands, braced against the rough texture of the tree. You faintly felt the ridges under your palm, but there was no pain, no irritation that you knew you were bound to experience later. All you could truly feel was Azriel deep inside you, stretching you out and using you in a way you hadn’t experienced for a very long time. The lust Azriel felt, the experience of being with you, of claiming you as his, was no longer a desire, no longer a want. It was a need. An animalistic and primal need that he felt deep in his chest.
Azriel's movements were relentless, each thrust sending ripples of pleasure rippling through your body, clouding your mind in a haze of ecstasy and melting away all coherent thought. There were sounds emitted from your lips, this you knew, but they were incoherent whimpers, quiet murmurs whispered towards the ground as your forehead dug into your hands with every buck of Azriel’s hips.
“You had so much to say earlier, Y/n,” Azriel said, pulling out until he was barely inside you. He thrusted back in, resuming a hard and brutal pace.
“Why so quiet now?”
Thrust.
“Did you just need the attitude fucked out of you?”
Thrust.
"What will your brothers think?” he taunted, his grip on your hips bruising in its intensity, “Your father?”
Thrust.
“If only your family only knew what their precious princess was up to. Taking it from the likes of me, like some common pleasure hall whore."
The mention of your family sent a surge of burning shame coursing through your veins, you felt the heat rise to your cheeks, flushing against your exposed skin. But amidst the suffocating shame, there was something else, something primal and insatiable that stirred within you—a hunger born of defiance, of indulging in a forbidden ecstasy. It filled you with a sense of exhilaration that bordered on madness.
Quickly, that spark of defiance ignited within you, mingling with the fiery hunger coursing through your veins, an urge to bite back at him. You craned your head to look over your shoulder, catching his eyes as you let out a moan, taking your lips in between your teeth.
"Do common whores get you this riled up?" you purred. There was a feigned innocence in your tone that made Azriel twitch inside you. His gaze burned into yours. "Do they make you this hungry?”
A part of you wanted the confirmation, wanted the triumphant feeling of knowing you could ruin him for everyone else— that you felt better than the females he had bedded, that you, the one he loathed so openly, were the only one to truly quench his thirst.
“Do they feel as good as me, Azriel?”
He let out a deep, guttural moan. The sound traveled through your body, lighting your skin on fire as you bucked back into his movements, meeting every roll of his hips.
“Say that again,” Azriel groaned.
When you gave no reply, he twisted your hair around one fist and gave it a tug, pulling your body up to him as before. His thrusts never staggered, not even as his hand traveled to wrap around your throat, matching the reddening print from his earlier grip. The other hand remained steady at your hip, gripping into the fabric of your dress and the exposed skin of your body.
“Say my name,” he growled and your cunt tightened at the sound, at the way he gripped your throat harder. You grasped at his arm with your hands, holding on to his skin as he bucked into you.
“No.”
Azriel growled, pulling out of you almost completely before he pushed back in a heavy, angry stroke. Your body arched in pleasure, a small whimper leaving your mouth instinctively.
“Don’t be a brat.”
“Fuck you.”
“I am,” Azriel said, “And your cunt is swallowing me whole, princess. Like it's made for me, like its been begging to be fucked.”
He released his grip from your throat, letting you fall forward as he placed his hand on the small of your back, arching your body for him as he pounded into you from behind. You fell forward, hands planted on the tree before you, fingers clawing at the bark like an animal in heat. Azriel watched as his cock disappeared into your cunt with every thrust, watched how your ass bounced back on him with every movement, how your tits moved with every roll of his hips. He fought not to finish from the sight alone.
You struggled to find your voice through the haze of pleasure that clouded your mind, that seemed to twist and tie your tongue to where you could only gasp incoherent words of ecstasy
“Oh, fuck. Azriel.”
Azriel drank in your sounds of pleasure like a male thirsted for centuries, the sound of his name on your tongue sending a wave of pleasure through his body.
“Are you going to cum, Y/n?”
You let yourself surrender to his touch as he continued to ravage you with ruthless abandon, his voice caressing you in ways you never knew a sound could do. You wanted him to go faster, harder, rougher; wanted him to fuck you with all his might, with all that anger you saw. As if he could read your mind, Azriel’s thrusts sped up, slamming into you.
“Fuuck, yeah, you are. I can feel this pretty little cunt clenching me.”
He continued his pace, fucking you with long thorough strokes that left you completely pinned between him and the rough bark of the tree. You felt him heavy against your back, breasts pressed against his hand as he moved between gripping them both roughly, holding onto them for leverage as he fucked you from behind.
"Look at you," he taunted, his grip tightening around you possessively. "So desperate, so needy. You're nothing but a pretty little slut, begging for release, aren’t you?"
Azriel continued, moving deeper and faster, pumping into you with snaps of his hips that had you writhing underneath him.
"And yet," you managed between breaths, gasps leaving your lips as he drove into you. "You’re the one pounding into me like a brute who can't get enough.”
With a low groan, Azriel's hand tightened around your breast, his grip possessive as he leaned in to bite at your shoulder with a hungry intensity. He was beginning to think that you’d surely be the death of him, that he had created something, some beast inside him, that refused to be satiated by anything other than you— and that was dangerous. But he didn’t think too much about it, not now, not as he felt your cunt massaging him from the inside, felt your walls clamping onto him in a way that set his body on fire, his cock throbbing.
Azriel railed you over and over, nothing slow or gentle about his movements. And with every thrust, you whined in ecstasy. His grip on your hips tightened, holding you in place as he kept pounding into you. He fell forward, grinding against you, pushing you further into the rough bark of the tree.
You could feel it, a deep pressure building in your stomach as his cock stretched you in the most delicious way. And you could feel him too, hot against your back, his deep breaths and the groans that reverberated through his body. The sound of skin slapping against skin echoed in your ears, muffling out the sound of your moans as your whole body tensed.
Then you felt it, a cool trail snaking up your legs. Dark tendrils of Azriel's shadows slithered through your thighs, caressing your skin with a tantalizing touch that made you clench at the sensation. You gasped as they coiled around your clit, winding you up with a feeling you’d never experienced before. With a loud moan, your orgasm rolled through you in a violent convulsion, white spots dancing at the edges of your vision.
Azriel hated to think it, hated to admit that the sound of you coming undone on his cock was one of the most beautiful things he’d ever heard, that feeling your cunt clench around him as the sound filled his ear was enough for him to unravel. With a choked moan, Azriel spilled into you, spurts of his seed coating your walls. You let out a final, breathy whine at the sensation of him spilling into you, feeling as it began to drip as Azriel slowly pulled out.
With a heavy breath, his gaze lingered on the glistening trail connecting the tip of cock to your cunt. The lust in his eyes faintly faded, and a moment of clarity washed over him as the reality of what he’d just done hit like a sudden, cold wave. He didn’t regret it, no, not at all. This was exactly the release Azriel had needed. In fact, a part of him nearly grinned at the realization, at the relief he now felt in his body. But the other part of him, the rational side afraid of disappointing his family, of fucking something up, awoke in a panic. What the fuck had he just done? And why was he so proud of it?
You slowly stood up, straightening yourself out as you turned to face him, face flushed and hair a tangled mess. There was a ghost of a smirk playing on your lips as you took them between your teeth and bit down. Your breasts were still exposed, nipples peaked and reddened marks from his rough grip. Azriel's eyes traveled down your form, swallowing hard as he took in the sight before him. He could smell the desire that filled the air around you both, could smell himself on you— the image of him plunging in and out of you still fresh in his mind.
The idea of it alone made his cock stir again. There was something intoxicating about this situation to him. The image of you returning home, covered in his marks, in his scent, in his seed. Eris smelling him on you, realizing that you’d not only fucked someone he despised, but sullied yourself with an illyrian– just as he’d told Mor. And you, you’d remember this. You’d remember him inside you, remember how you let him use you, fuck you like a common-court whore. And you’d have to live with that. Every insult you’d give him, everytime you sneered at him in the future, there would be a part of you that remembered falling apart on his cock as you begged him for more, for him to fuck you harder.
With a gentle flick of your fingers, your dress was perfectly restored, the fabric falling gracefully around your figure as your hair cascaded down your shoulders in silky, untouched, waves. You smoothed out the sleeves of your dress with a practiced gesture before turning your gaze back to Azriel, scanning him from head to toe. Your eyes lingered on his still-exposed cock, covered in the mixed fluids of your cunt and his seed. A smirk played at the corner of your lips as Azriel looked down, realization flickering in his eyes as he hastily pulled up his pants, stuffing himself back into them.
"Well, this was fun," you remarked casually– almost bored. Azriel resisted the urge to frown at the words, at the tone you used. "Catch you later, Shadowsinger."
Before he could respond, you were gone, leaving him standing alone in the forest, staring at the empty space before a tree.
✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹
Part Two
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in unholy denial
･ ｡ﾟ*. 18+, minors DNI . * ｡ﾟ･
pairing: wanda maximoff x reader
summary: you’re the perfect all-american girl; a good student, a weekly churchgoer, you’re even dating the high school quarter back. so it’s all a big shock to you when your family decides to send you to a conversion camp, claiming they believe you’re a lesbian. you don’t agree with their accusation, telling everyone that you don’t like girls at all. but then you meet your camp mate wanda maximoff, who seems determined to sway your mind in another direction…
warning(s): conversion therapy, homophobia (externalised and internalised), religious mentions (christianity), smut, fingering, thigh riding, loss of virginity, hickeys, slight dubcon (only kissing), swearing, pet names (princess, honey), wanda and r are in high school but of age (over 18), cheating (r has a bf), slightly innocent reader, nude magazine, etc. minors dni
author’s note: this is my first time writing and uploading smut so i really hope it’s not terrible 🙏🏻this is heavily inspired by ‘but i’m a cheerleader’, only this time it’s with teenage wanda and much more smutty :) i also took light inspiration from @imaginedanvrs and her fic ‘atonement’, and though i did take a different turn, check it out because all of their writing is amazing :))
wc: 11.7K words
The car is quite on the ride up. You stare out the window, watching as your world begins to disappear. The camp is just under two hours away from your home town; far away enough that it feels like a whole different world, but close enough that your parents can still come visit on the weekends.
You’re not being punished. At least that’s what your parents have told you. They just want what’s best for you, want to help you find the right journey in life. Apparently this camp was supposed to do that for you. Though, you could quite see how - the apparent problem they claim to be able to fix, not identifiable to any part of your mind.
When they’d first brought up the idea, you’d been quick to confusion. A conversion therapy camp? But you weren’t gay. You had a boyfriend, the football team’s best quarterback at that, and you two were very happy together. He was handsome and kind, and you loved him. Except for maybe when he tried to kiss you, always left feeling grossed out by the encounter as his tongue tried to play with yours. But he must just be a bad kisser. That was at least what you always told yourself…
Aside from that, there were so many things that couldn’t have possibly lead your parents to believe you were gay. You were one of the top students at school, always getting the highest grades. Every Sunday you attended church, said your nightly prayers each evening before you slept. You were in the church choir, for goodness sake!
Still, your parents had sat you down in the living room one night and had a very serious conversation with you. They were concerned mostly, worried that something sinister had crept in and was tainting your life. You’d used all of your excuses in protest but they’d came prepared with their own.
A few posters from your room, filled with woman in bikini tops. You liked the patterns. Songs from your playlist that held ulterior meaning. You just liked the way they sound. The fact you hated kissing your boyfriend; a few comments you’d made to your friends about other girls at church. You thought everyone felt that way…
In the end, they’d convinced you to come along to the program, claiming it was in your best interest to attend and get the help you need. Although you didn’t believe you needed any help at all, you had agreed. If this camp was going to help them feel better, you were willing to give it a go, even if it meant getting treatment for a nonexistent problem…
Still, your heart aches a little as your small family car drives away from the suburbs you are used to, the view soon replaced by dense forest trees and vibrant undergrowth. The program was set out almost like a Summer camp, out near a lake where members could swim during their free time. That was one of the activities you’d read in the pamphlet your parents had handed you, the camp explained in its entirety alongside its promise to guarantee positive results. You’d initially asked your parents how long you would have to spend there, worried about being forced to remain when there wasn’t a problem with you to begin with, but your mom had simply smiled back softly and replied, ‘let’s just see how you get on’.
You’re almost lost in thought when the car finally turns on to the last stretch of its journey. The sight ahead of you drags you back to the present moment, eyes now searching the wide opening in the trees as the camp comes into view. It’s easy to spot, the only buildings around for a long while, and the white shutters standing out vibrantly against the green trees. The lake comes into view too, shimmering in the morning summer sun.
Soon the car slows, coming to a halt outside what looks to be the main building, its size large compared to the other’s dotted around. The ranch-style house is painted a soft blue, the fixtures and wrap-around porch shining dazzling white. All in all, it looks rather beautiful.
Your parents are the first out the car, looking around as they close the doors. You follow a moment later, eyes drifting over your surroundings as you inhale the sweet smells of the forest air. A pair of footsteps soon diverts your attention, your gaze falling to a tall blonde man making his way in your direction from the large blue house. He’s dressed very similarly to the men you see at church; a pair of neat navy slacks and a matching blue and white gingham shirt. You and your parents come to stand together on one side of the car just as he reaches your feet.
“Good morning,” the blonde says, his grin reaching from ear to ear. “Mr and Mrs Y/L/N, isn’t it?” There’s an exchange of hand shakes as your parents confirm his assumption. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. And you must be young Y/N.” His gaze falls to you as he speaks, a hand outstretching in your direction.
You take it, shaking it gently as you nod your head. “It’s nice to meet you, sir.”
The blonde lets out a low chuckle as he releases your hand, his attention turning back to your parents. “What a polite little girl you have,” he says, his smile widening. Your parents seem to take pride in his compliment, inching closer together as they stand and look over at you. “But please,” the man continues, turning back to you. “My name is reverend Steve so you can call me as such. Or just Steve if you prefer.” He smiles again as he shrugs his shoulders. “Sir always feels a bit too formal.”
There’s a trade of small laughter between the adults but you don’t find yourself joining in, still feeling a little apprehensive about this whole scenario.
“I do hope your journey here was alright.”
“Oh, just fine,” your father replies in response to reverend Steve’s question, smiling easily back at him.
“Good. I’m so glad to hear that. We’re just so happy to have Y/N here. And don’t worry, your daughter is in very good hands.”
Just at that moment, you notice another figure approaching your group, a woman, originating from the same place Steve had. When she reaches you, there’s a soft smile on her face, her red hair dazzling in the Summer sun. The reverend reaches one of his arms out, bringing the woman close to his side as his hand rests on her hip. “I’d like you to meet my wife, Natasha. She helps direct things around here, especially with the girls.”
Her hand also extends out to your parents to meet in a soft handshake as she smiles widely back at them. “Hi, it’s a pleasure to meet you.” With your parents, reciprocating the sentiment, the redhead then turns her attention to you. Her eyes sparkle a bright shade of green as the morning sun hits them. “Hello, Y/N,”
You find yourself momentarily stumbling over your words, something about the woman distracting you until she speaks. “Good morning,” you manage eventually, smiling back nervously.
In the time you’ve greeted her, it seems your parents have retrieved your luggage from the back of the car. “These are your bags?” Reverend Steve asks, reaching to pick them up. In truth, you hadn’t even noticed them being moved there. “I’ll just take these up to your dorm room, Y/N.” He smiles once more at you before he turns, walking towards the house with your belongings in tow.
“I’ll give them a little check over once we get there,” Natasha says, drawing your attention back to her. She passes you a playful wink that causes a strange feeling in your chest. “But I’m sure there’s nothing in there that will get you in trouble, hm?”
“I don’t think-“ Your response is cut off by your sudden realisation you’re standing alone, your parents retreating back to the car and already starting the engine. “Wait I-“
“Don’t worry.” The redhead’s words yet again distract you, pulling your attention away from the vehicle behind you. “They’ll be back at the weekend to visit. You’ll be seeing them again in no time.” Natasha turns to stand side by side with you, her hand resting on your back as she gently begins to press you forwards. “Now how about you just come with me and I can show you around the place. How does that sound?”
“A-alright,” you stumble, giving one glance back to the car that has already pulled away from the camp. You let the woman by your side guide you as you watch it slowly move further and further away up the road, officially leaving you all alone.
The tour Natasha gives you, however, helps to lift your spirits a little. The camp grounds are rather beautiful, the grass vibrant and speckled with small colourful flowers. The buildings themselves are also very pleasant, all adding to the soft summer camp feel the area had. Natasha first directs you to the small bunker home her and Steve resided in, claiming members were not allowed inside but there was a small bell if you ever needed them at any time. Next, she shows you the church; a small yet grand building with dazzling stained glass windows. As you walk the pews, Natasha tells you how their service is held each morning, directed by Steve himself.
“I hear you’re in your church choir?” Natasha quips as you take in the way the light hits the windows, spreading bright colours across the floor of the building.
“Yes,” you reply, lifting your head and smiling sheepishly. “I have been since I was thirteen.”
“You’ll have to sing for us one time,” Natasha says playfully, before beckoning you out of the church and off to your next destination. On your way, she explains a little of how their program works; a mixture of group lessons and singular sessions to help you understand your problem. “Do you still attend bible study, Y/N?” Natasha asks as you approach the main building.
Shyly, you turn to face her. “No. I stopped a few years ago when I turned sixteen.”
The redhead clicks her tongue but overall doesn’t seem too disappointed, still smiling over you. “Don’t worry,” she replies. “I’m sure our study will set you just right again.” She passes you another wink before you step in through another door that she opens ahead of you.
The building has a wide front opening, a set of grand stairs set out ahead in the expanse of the tall ceilings. At the bottom of them, you suddenly notice a tall girl standing there. She’s wearing a neat uniform, her long black hair pulled back into two braids. “Y/N,” Natasha says, gesturing towards the girl. “I’d like you to meet Kate. She’ll be your mentor while you settle in.”
The raven-hair girl smiles at you as she extends a hand. You shake it, sharing a quick greeting before she hands you a welcome packet. Natasha explains how all of the rules are written inside, alongside a list of other expectations and your schedule for your stay. You hold on to it against your chest as the pair walk you around the house on your continued tour.
Inside of the main building, it feels somewhat like a mixture of a house and a school. There are two classrooms, both filled with a set of students learning from a tutor at the front of the class. A large dining hall was also set up, functioning like a school canteen. Downstairs there were a few recreational spaces with small couches arranged around card tables, all littered with various bible verse posters along the walls. As you move upstairs, Natasha shows you the bathrooms and the couple isolation rooms they had, though she assured you, you most likely wouldn’t be spending any time in there.
“Now, let’s get you some uniform, hm?” Natasha says, moving further down the corridor. She opens a long cupboard, filled with rows of pleated skirts and crisp white shirts. She looks through the rails before handing you a set of uniform in your size. Her and Kate then give you some privacy in the cupboard to change while they step outside.
The uniform is light blue, the skirt pleated through with lines of navy. The sweater vest is a matching dark blue, the logo of the camp embroidered onto one breast. You pull it on over the white button shirt, followed by the long white socks and black patent shoes Natasha had also provided. When you step out of the cupboard, the older woman takes hold of your old clothes, claiming she’ll take care of them for you until you’d be needing them again. You’re not entirely sure what she means but she’s continuing on with the tour once more before you can truly give it much thought.
“These are the girl’s dormitories,” the redhead says as she opens another door, guiding you inside. As you step in, you notice two rows of small cots, lined up with matching pink floral bedsheets. You notice one on the end, your bags sat atop waiting for you. But what catches your eye even more, is the brunette girl splayed across one of the middle beds, a magazine between her hands. She looks up as all three of you walk into the room, her green eyes meeting directly with you.
“Miss Maximoff,” Natasha says as soon as she notices the girl. “Aren’t you supposed to be in your lessons right now?”
The girl diverts her gaze to the camp director. “I didn’t feel well so I came to lie down.”
The way the girl lay across her stomach, face perfectly amused as her eyes flitted across her magazine didn’t exactly come across to you as unwell. It seems that Natasha too picks up on her lie, simply passing the brunette a small scowl. “Nice try.”
There’s a moment where the girl stares back, almost daring the women with her gaze, but she soon gives up, instead rolling her eyes as a long frustrated sigh escapes her lips. “Fine,” she mumbles, lifting herself up from the bed and slowly walking towards you. As she does, you notice how her shirt is unbuttoned further down and how her skirt is rolled at her waist, climbing the front of her thighs.
Natasha seems unfazed by her antics, simply holding out her hand which the brunnete places her magazine into with another sigh. The redhead gives it a once over before staring back at the girl. “This is contraband. Where did you find it?”
The brunette simple smirks in response. Her shoulders briefly brushes against yours as she squeezes her way through your group, headed towards the door. Before she leaves, she turns, walking gently backwards as the smirk widens on her face. “The Lord showed me the way to it.” She turns again quickly, disappearing from the dormitory alongside her lingering gaze.
Natasha doesn’t make any move to follow her, simply inclines her head as as she shouts down the corridor. “Roll down your skirt, Miss Maximoff!” Her voice still echoing, the redhead then turns back to you, that perfect smile returning almost as quickly as it at dropped. “I’m so sorry about that,” she says, glancing down at you. “Some of the other girls are a little…challenged in finding the light. Sometimes they can be a bad influence but I’m sure if you just stick with Kate, you’ll be just fine.”
You glance at the tall girl stood beside you, her soft grin looking back. “If you have any questions, feel free to ask Kate. Or of course, me or Steve at any point,” Natasha adds, drawing your attention back to her. You nod in response and she smiles back, placing a hand on to your shoulder. “Now, how about we take a look at your bags?”
———
Settling in isn’t as hard as you thought it might be. Kate is nice, you discover quickly, and helps you get unpacked. You tuck your things away into the drawers under your bed, then some more of your belongings in to the bedside table - next to the complementary bible you find tucked inside. Kate explains you can put up some photos with blue tac if you wish, pointing out to some of the other girls’ beds who have done the same. You borrow some of said blue tac from her as you stick a photo of your family alongside one of you and your boyfriend up on to the wall.
Afterwards, Kate sits with you while you look through your welcome packet. A lot of it relates to the pamphlet your parents had given you before your arrival, talking all about the camp and its methods of tackling what they phrase, ‘the misdirection of youths towards homosexuality’. The entire idea is still a little scattered in your head, but you brush it aside as you delve further into the rules and scheduling of the camp.
There are quite a few rules written down, a lot of which you recognise from your own home regulations. No curse words are to be used, nor any other inappropriate language. The Lord’s name must not be used in vain. Members must pray before each meal and every night before bed. Uniform must be worn at all times.
Then there are other rules that make you feel a little more uncertain. There is strictly NO fraternising between members. No member is permitted in the opposite dormitory to which they are assigned. Any inappropriate belongings will be confiscated.
The last rule makes you wonder back to the girl you’d seen sat inside the dormitory. There have been something ‘inappropriate’ about her magazine, obviously leading to the confiscation by Natasha. You weren’t quite sure what about it could be so bad, the name you’d glanced at briefly unrecognisable before Natasha had quickly stashed it away from your sight. If anything, the whole ordeal had only made you more curious about the strange girl and what exactly she had been reading.
As if the universe could hear your thoughts, it’s barely a few hours later when you collide with the girl once more. It’s lunch time, Kate and you just having sat down with your plates of food after she’d explained how they were set out each meal time. The dining room is filling up, all of the other camp members filing in to take their place at differing tables. It’s as your inspecting the meal in front of you that a very particular member sets herself down in front you.
“Hey, newbie.”
Your head raises from the table as you hear the voice, looking up to meet the same pair of green eyes that you recalled from earlier. The brunette stares back at you, a small smile playing at her lips as she watches your face. “Uh…hi?”
You don’t get to say much more before Kate is speaking up, leaning over the table with a scowl. “Get lost, Maximoff. We don’t want you to sit with us.”
The brunnete turns to look at the other girl, a frown of her own appearing between two perfect brows. “Loosen up, Bishop. I just wanted to say hello to our newest addition.” As she finishes, her eyes trail back to you, the scowl dropping away to that same smirking expression. For a moment it seems as if she looks you up and down, scanning over your uniform before studying your face again. “I’m Wanda,” she says eventually, voice light. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
You smile back a little awkwardly, torn between your polite nature and the instructions you had received to avoid this exact girl sat opposite you. “Y/N,” you reply, letting your manners overtake the situation.
“Just go away, Wanda,” Kate butts in suddenly, her voice raised. “I’m her mentor, not you.”
The brunette screws up her face as she turns to the raven-haired girl, scoffing under her breath. “God Kate, you’re so fucking uptight.” She sighs loudly as she pushes herself up from the table. As she does, you notice how her skirt is still rolled at the waist. But you don’t settle on it too long, distracted as she begins to speak again. “I’ll see you around, Y/N,” Wanda says, her voice playful once more. Her eyes train on you for just a moment as she backs away from the table, another girl soon taking her place.
“Just ignore her,” Kate grumbles over to you. She begins to list a string of complaints about the girl but doesn’t get far, soon interrupted by Reverend Steve calling for grace at the front of the room. You bow your head as he begins to pray, clasping your hands under your chin just as you did with every meal you ate at home. A chorus of ‘amens’ rings out as the prayer finishes, all heads lifting once more to begin eating their lunch. As you lift yours, your gaze briefly flashes across the room, catching across the way, a pair of green eyes staring back at you. Wanda sits smirking, but you don’t see much else, quickly finding yourself flustered and looking away, turning your concentration instead to the plate of food sat in front of you.
———
Natasha’s office is very nice. That’s your first thought when you enter through the door, guided by her hand on the base of your spine. There are a few wide windows on one wall, white shutters open to give a view of the lake just down a grassy hill. Her desk sits in one corner, a plush vibrant chair close by, then across the way, a small couch. There are shelves littered with both plants and framed pictures, most depicting some sort of bible verse.
You sit yourself down on the sofa while Natasha settles in her chair beside her desk, pulling out a notebook as she turns to face you. There’s an exchange of pleasantries as she explains exactly how these private sessions will go and how anything you say is entirely confidential. You nod, sitting rather folded in on yourself, uncertainty still coursing through your body.
“So Y/N,” Natasha says eventually, crossing her legs over the other. “To start off, why don’t you tell me a little bit about the first time you experienced homosexual tendencies.”
The request is one that leaves you stumbling a little. “Oh I- well…” You swallow, landing on the same response you’d had every time your parents had suggested the idea. “I’m not actually gay. Everyone just thinks that I am.”
Natasha’s face changes, taking on a soft but curious expression. “And why do you say that?”
“Well I’m not,” you reply. “I don’t- I don’t like girls. I have a boyfriend.”
That fact alone seemed enough to you for this whole endeavour to be needless. You didn’t like girls, couldn’t like them. You and your boyfriend had been going strong for over two years. He was handsome, funny, and you were sure you loved him. Even if you did feel slightly disgusted every time his lips touched yours…
“Listen Y/N,” Natasha says, her voice calm. “I know this whole experience can seem a little daunting but we’re here to help you, okay?” She smiles softly, the intention of her words feeling truthful. “But the first step of your journey needs to be your admittance to your problem.”
It isn’t that you don’t feel comfortable telling Natasha about your problem, in fact you actually feel a strange warmth in your stomach whenever she talks to you, but in your mind, there was no problem to begin with. “I’m not gay.”
Natasha sighs at your answer. She adjusts herself in her seat, her soft gaze looking back at you. “Think about it like this; homosexuality is like a disease. These thoughts weave their way into your mind, changing your behaviour.” The redhead raises a set of perfect brows. “But we can’t begin to heal if we don’t have a proper diagnosis. Can’t administer the right treatment if we can’t admit we’re ill, right?”
Her analogy isn’t lost on you, somewhat similar to something you’d heard your pastor say back at your home church. “Yeah…I guess that makes sense.”
“Now what you’re experiencing can be fixed,” Natasha continues. “I’ve seen it fixed many times before. You can heal Y/N, break away from this and find the light of our good lord.” With his name, Natasha glances up to the cross hanging on the wall beside you. Your eyes follow too. “Don’t you want that?”
You turn back to the woman, your voice sounding small. “Of course I do.”
Natasha smiles. “That’s good.” She rearranges herself again, adjusting to hold her notebook and pen better. “Now, could you maybe tell me first time you can remember ever having thoughts about other women?”
“I don’t-I haven’t,” you stumble. “I don’t think about them like that.”
Like that. It was a phrase you’d repeated like a mantra in your head. You didn’t want a girlfriend, you didn’t want a girl to kiss you. You thought about girls the same way everyone else did. Sure, sometimes your eyes would fall to their ass when they walked to the front of class, or perhaps you got a bit hot and bothered in the changing rooms before gym, maybe even your favourite movie scene was the one where all the girls would go to the beach and play in the water. But that was what everyone else thought too…right?
“Alright,” Natasha says, sighing again. “I can see you’re really struggling with this, but that’s okay. I’m here to help you.” She smiles. “How about we take a little look at your family history, hm? See if that can get things kickstarted for us?”
You spend the rest of your session talking about your family. Natasha asks about extended members, questioning about any problems there may be down your blood line. But as far as you know, it all comes up clean, your entire family the same good Christian folks you’ve always known them to be.
Finding nothing of interest, Natasha moves on to talk about your childhood. She asks about your time at school, how long you’d attended church, what sort of friends you had. It’s all scribbled down on the notebook in her hand as you list off answers, all the perfect idiom of what a good Christian girl should be.
By the end of your session, you’ve spoke about almost everything that’s led you up to where you are now. Natasha asks again about your feelings towards women, trying to compare the reasons your parents sent you here to real acts of homosexuality. But all in all, it’s no use. At the end of the hour, you’re still in denial, refusing any accusation of your alleged problem. Thankfully, Natasha doesn’t seem angry, still smiling softly as you leave her office. She send you away with an assignment to think about what could be your ‘root’, what she terms the initial source of your unholy thoughts, determined once you figure this out, it will begin your journey to sanctuary.
———
The next few days pass by without much excitement. You begin to settle into your lessons, listening as a few ex-members of the program give speeches of their experiences, or as Steve talks about how God can help give meaning to your life. There are group therapy sessions you attend, though mostly sit quietly through, but listen while others talk about their own experiences and thoughts. It’s in them you notice a certain person who seems to stare at you from across the room. You try to avoid making eye contact but it seems each time you glance over, Wanda’s stare is trained on you.
Following what Natasha had said when you first arrived, you tried to stick to Kate’s side as much as possible, avoiding the other girl who seemed to look at you more often than not. When you weren’t in lessons you could avoid her, instead hanging around with Kate and her friends in the recreational spaces, sometimes watching one of the approved DVDs that lay beneath the TV. At meals, your group sits together, always saying your prayers before eating your food. But it seems even there you can’t escape the strange brunette, always catching her stare from across the room. It’s only in bible study, on the day that marks a week since your arrival, that you actually get to speak to her again.
Kate was sick today. She’d caught a head cold, presumably from her parents who came to visit her at the weekend. You had also had a visit, your mother and father asking every possible question about your stay and how you were finding camp. The visit had went well, but now a few days later you were left with no mentor to guide you throughout your day. It isn’t too much of a worry in your mind though, the layout and scheduling of the camp already becoming a familiar routine to your body. But what you aren’t used to, is a certain strange individual sitting in the seat where your mentor usually sat.
You don’t notice it is Wanda at first. Feeling the body slide against yours on the bench, your first thought is perhaps that Kate has made a miraculous recovery. But when you turn to face the individual and are met with piercing green eyes, you are certainly even more surprised. “Um,” you fumble, looking back at the brunette as you try to stumble for words. “That’s Kate’s seat.”
Wanda raises a brow, her head spinning to look around the room before it returns to you. “I don’t see her.” She smirks. “Besides, no seating arrangements, right?”
Technically she is correct. There is nothing actually stopping her from sitting beside you apart from your slight aversion to interacting with her. You slide your body away a few inches to the right, shifting away from the touch Wanda had initiated as she sat down a little to close. The brunette seems to notice, glancing down at the gap now settled between you, but she doesn’t say anything about it, instead just looking up at you as she flashes a set of white teeth. “So Y/N,” she begins, rolling your name easily over her tongue. “Where are you from?”
“Not far,” you reply, still inclined to politeness even with your anxiety around the interaction. You elaborate further, telling her the name of your town just two hours north of the camp.
Wanda hums at your response then crosses her legs on the bench. You try not to notice the way her rolled skirt flashes a pair of smooth pale legs. “I’m from down south,” she says. “Further than you, though. About six hours. My parents only come to visit about once a month.”
You met her eye as you try to think of a response, but before you can, you’re being interrupted. Reverend Steve calls out at the front of the class, silencing everyone so that he can begin calling the register. As names echo out across the room, you and Wanda’s conversation dies, but the soft warmth emanating from her body close to yours, does not leave for the rest of the lesson.
Having quit bible study over three years ago, you were a little worried you wouldn’t be able to keep up, but as Kate had told you last week, some of these kids had never even been to church, so the pace was definitely slow enough for you to follow along. The story Steve told today was one you knew rather well actually, one of the most prominent ones you could recall from your early teens. Still, you pay the upmost attention throughout the entire time he talks, eyes trained on his figure at the front of the classroom. What makes that a little difficult however, is the girl sat right beside you.
Wanda is easily distracted you notice quickly, constantly fidgeting with the pen in her hand - your pen actually, borrowed by the brunette when she claimed she had forgotten her own. You sit a little in shock as she casually graffitis the open bible sat upon the desk in front of her, mindlessly drawing squiggles and random shapes into the margin. You try your best to ignore her antics but it’s a little hard when she accidentally tosses her pen across the desk, following a failed attempt to spin it around her fingers. It lands over on your side, just to the right of your own bible. You go to reach for it to hand back to her but it seems she’s already moving before you can even get the chance.
Her body lifts slightly from the bench, stretching out across the table with one arm for her lost pen. As she does, her chest is brought closer to your face. Your eyes fall on the black cross hanging around her neck, then suddenly dip lower, catching the area of her shirt where her buttons are undone further than they should be. There’s the briefest of moments where your eyes linger there, passing over the ever so slightly visible cleavage that swells on her chest, but it’s less than seconds later you’re darting away. Wanda eventually picks her pen back up, after what feels like an eternity, and pulls back in her chair. You glance momentarily over at her, then quickly return to the bible open in front of you, trying your best to follow along with the passage Steve reads aloud while ignoring the strange sensation that has settled in your lower stomach.
———
Camp isn’t quite the way you imagined it to be. Before you arrived, you thought it would be entirely awful, like a prison only with more…God. But for most of your experience, it just feels like you’re back in school. Although, now your lessons about maths or science are replaced by those about God and the way into his heart. Just over two weeks in, you’ve picked up the swing of things quite nicely, falling into an easy routine as you move through the services and lessons with ease. The one thing you just can’t quite seem to grasp is the understanding of why you’re here in the first place.
You’ve had three private sessions now with Natasha, each of them as feeble at finding a change as the last. You’re still not ready to admit your problem, as Natasha puts it, reluctant to find the issue within yourself. But as you’ve said since before you even came, it’s a simple fact you aren’t gay. Natasha seems determined in her ways to make you see something different.
She’s handed you a book, walking out from your last session. The title reads, ‘My Sexuality and Me: Finding the Root of Homosexual Tendencies’. You’re tasked with reading it before your next session in hopes it might finally help you understand your own thoughts. For now, however, it has to wait. Leaving your session, you go up to the dorm to drop it by your bed, taking just a moment before you have to head to your next organised activity.
The camp helps run on a set of scheduled chores that the members have to carry out. It’s on a rota, something Kate had shown you on your very first day, and changes each week. There’s everything from weed picking to cleaning dishes, all work that helps to keep the camp in shape for everyone staying there. Reverend Steve mentioned something about the work ethic helping everyone be grateful for what the lord had given them.
You have to go down to check the rota, forgetting what was scheduled for you this week. Most of the others are already dotted around the camp doing their chores, apparently your one-on-one session running over slightly and causing you to be a little late. You make your way down the stairs to the main room where the rota is located, pinned into a notice board on the wall. But as you turn the corner at the bottom of the stairs, you notice that you are in fact, not alone.
Wanda turns almost immediately when you round the corner. She’s stood up against the notice board, back resting upon the wall with one foot lifted against it. A smile appears on her face as you come into view, her teeth shining around the piece of pink bubblegum she chews. “Hey, princess.”
You try not to scoff at the name - an endearment the brunette had coined after seeing you one night writing in your diary about your boyfriend, claiming you were like a locked away princess longing for her prince to come save her. You’d rolled your eyes at her comment at the time, and had to deal with its return each time you’d bumped into her in the past week. Now, you try to ignore it as you walk past her and stare up at the notice board trying to find the chore schedule. However, Wanda is speaking again before you even get the chance to locate it.
“Looks like it’s you and me this week.” You glance over at her, watching as a pink bubble forms at her lips. You want to ignore her teasing, looking back to the board to locate where you would be stationed, but when your eyes fall upon the schedule, you realise she is right. Written on the notice board, right below the date of the beginning of the week is your and Wanda’s name, then below it; house duty.
You turn back to look at her, a pair of green eyes glinting your way. For a moment you think there’s some kind of mistake. After all, you had always been with Kate before. But then, not far away from yours is indeed Kate’s name written, not on house duty, but on pantry organisation.
Wanda smirks as she rolls the gum in her mouth, eyes fixated on you as she blows another bubble. When it pops, she finally speaks again. “You’ve never done house duty, have you?”
She’s right. You’re in unfamiliar territory and you don’t have your usual mentor to help guide you. “No,” you reply simply, gently shaking your head.
Wanda breathes out a laugh, throwing her head back slightly as she drops her leg from the wall. “Come on, princess,” she says teasingly, walking to close the gap between you. “I’ll guide you.”
Her hand is reaching for yours before you can protest against it. Soft skin slips into yours, gripping hold and quickly dragging you down the corridor. You stumble slightly, surprised by the whole encounter but Wanda doesn’t seemed fazed. She simply pulls you along the hall like a lost puppy. When your brain restarts from the initial shock, you look down at the way your fingers are grasped between hers. It’s a simple interaction at its core, an innocuous hand hold as she shows you the way to go. You’d done the same thing with your own friends back home many of times, but something about this one feels a little different. Something about the way her soft skin is warm against yours creates an odd fuzz in your head.
“Here we are,” Wanda announces, suddenly dropping your hand. You try not to think about the way it now feels cold as you watch her reach for a door handle. It opens to a cupboard, full of what looks like cleaning supplies. “We basically just dust everything,” the brunette continues, turning back to look at you. “Just dust and vacuum the floors in every room in the house. Oh- but not the bathroom, someone else will be doing those.”
You find yourself nodding, the task seeming simple enough. You’d dusted plenty of times at home, this couldn’t be any different.
Wanda lets out another laugh, seemingly at your immediate obedience to follow through with your task. “Alright, princess,” she says, cracking her gum. She reaches in to the cupboard, picking up a cloth and a bottle of disinfect spray. “I’ll do upstairs, you do downstairs?”
There isn’t much room for objection even if you had any, Wanda already beginning to walk away with the cloth thrown over one of her shoulders. You reach down to grab similar materials, standing back up to watch her figure moving down the corridor. “Stop calling me that!” You call out, but the girl is gone before your sentence is even finished, the protest seemingly falling on deaf ears. A sigh escapes your lips as you close the cupboard door, determined to just ignore the other girl while you begin your designated chore.
You start with the class rooms, wiping each desk with the spray and then dusting the other surrounding surfaces. You quickly find nothing was too dirty, the uphold from the other members ensuring the work wasn’t too difficult. You move next to the dining hall, then the recreational spaces, your cloth picking up any small specks of dust that have come to rest on the furniture and surfaces. When you’ve wiped down each room, you return to the cupboard for the vacuum you’d spied earlier. It’s older than the one you have at home but easy enough to work, quickly making light work of vacuuming the entire bottom floor.
It’s probably half an hour later when you finish, at least that’s the guess you make without a watch. You tidy away the cleaning supplies back into the cupboard before doing a quick inspection of everything to make sure you haven’t missed anything. Satisfied everything is clean, you turn your attention to your missing task partner. You haven’t seen Wanda once, barely even heard her moving upstairs. So, devoid of what else to do, you decide to head up to check if she needed any help.
You check a few rooms before you find her, the closest spaces absent of her presence. It’s only when you open the door to the girls dormitory that you finally see her. Except, she’s not cleaning like you expected her to be, in fact the cloth is entirely disregarded on the bedside table. Instead, Wanda sits with her back against the headrest of her bed, legs crossed over the top of her floral sheets and a magazine sat across her lap.
The door almost slams behind you as you catch eye of her, shock and repel taking you over. “You’re supposed to be cleaning!”
Wanda’s eyes pick up as she hears you yell, meeting your stare across the room. A smirk appears on her face, her expression seeming very amused by your sudden entrance. “Believe me, what I’m doing is much more enjoyable.”
You scowl back, annoyed by the fact you’d just spent the last half hour cleaning the house while she had been sitting up here doing nothing for who knows how long. If you were more argumentative, you would think of something to say in retaliation, some quick quip to get back at her for being lazy. But you’d never been very good at arguing, never very good at holding your temper. So instead you simply hold your tongue as you walk further in the room, watching Wanda as she stared back at you. Suddenly, your eyes fall to the paper in her hand, reminded of how similar this situation felt to the first time you’d met her. Like then, the same curiosity comes over you as to what she might be looking at, particularly how it could be classified as contraband. With that in mind, the next words you utter are not with anger anymore, but instead interest. “What are you reading?”
“Oh this?” Wanda replies, closing the magazine and holding it up briefly. She smirks your way, the grin wide against her cheeks. “Playboy.”
The word was unfamiliar to your mind. “What?”
Wanda’s brow raise. “Don’t tell me you’ve never heard of a playboy magazine.”
You notice in that moment she’d lost her gum from earlier. In fact, you wouldn’t be surprised if she’d stuck it under a piece of furniture somewhere. But still trying to focus on the conversation at hand, you simply shake your head in response.
Wanda looks surprised, her brows raising even further. You think she’s going to jest you further, make fun of you for not recognising the name of her treasured magazine, but instead she simply extends it out. “Look.”
You move slowly, slightly hesitant to approach. You know Natasha had confiscated something like this from Wanda before and you didn’t presume this new magazine was much different from that previously banned material. Still, your curiosity seems to be getting the better of you because you slowly sit down on Wanda’s bed, your legs hanging off the side whilst the brunette crosses hers. Against the covers of the bed, Wanda slides the magazine between the two of you, opening it to a random page. What is plastered over it causes your eyebrows to raise completely in shock.
Women. But not just any pictures of women. The magazine was covered in dozens of images of women in differing stages of nudity. Immediately when you saw it, you felt the need to pull your eyes away, knowing that these kind of images were most definitely not the kind you should be looking at. But at the same time, it was like you couldn’t stop. There are about four models across the two pages scattered with different images, sometimes wearing sets of black lacy lingerie, sometimes wearing nothing at all. Theres a strange sensation bubbling in your gut, an odd warmth spreading through your mind as you look down at the pictures. The pure immorality of it all is enough for you to shake your head viscously.
“This is-we’re not-you shouldn’t have that.” You stutter, the images imprinted in your brain making it harder to focus and find the right words. You’ve never seen anything like that before, never looked at a woman’s body so out in the open. Now you could see why Natasha had quickly confiscated Wanda’s magazine and hidden it away from your view. “How do you even have this?”
The brunette seems utterly unfazed by the material in front of you. More so, her face looks amused at your alarmed reaction. “I steal them out of my brother’s backpack when he comes to visit,” she replies casually, as if this is something she’s been doing for months. “He’s pretty oblivious so he never notices, always thinks he lost them. Besides, even if he did know, he couldn’t tell my parents. He’s not allowed them either.”
While Wanda explains, you have to fight against yourself to hold eye contact. In your peripheral, you can still see the open page of nude women, restraining yourself from your body’s seemingly natural instinct to look down. “This isn’t right,” you reply, shaking your head. “We shouldn’t be looking at that.”
Wanda scoffs, looking displeased at your disapproval. She reaches out for the magazine, pulling it back into her own lap as she glances down at the images. Then, she’s looking back up at you, face inquisitive. “You’ve really never seen one before?”
You’re not sure exactly where she thinks you were going to find such a thing, but you’re certain you’ve never seen anything of the sort before. “No,” you reply sternly, shaking your head once more.
Wanda laughs to herself, rolling her eyes. “You call yourself a lesbian and you don’t even know what a playboy is.”
Her words cause a deep frown to appear on your brow, your voice raising to almost a shout. “I’m not a lesbian.”
A perfect brow raises in your direction as Wanda looks at you. Her expression seems particularly amused. “No? How’d you end up here then?”
The question hits you hard, the same thing you’d been pondering to yourself over the last few weeks of your stay. “I’m not gay,” you reply harshly. “Everyone just thinks that I am.”
“And why do you think they think that?”
Wanda’s eyes meet your own as she speaks, the question another one familiar to your own mind. “I don’t know,” you shrug. “Stupid reasons.” You think back to the conversation you’d had with your parents, the first time any of this had even cropped up into your mind. “A few posters I had up in my room, a couple songs on my playlist. Oh, and I told my boyfriend I don’t like kissing him. Which is totally stupid. I’m pretty sure he’s just really bad at it.”
A chuckle emanates from Wanda’s throat. You’re not quite sure why, watching as she leans in closer to you. When she speaks again, her face is barely inches from your own. “Oh honey, you don’t like kissing him because you like kissing girls.”
“What?” you exclaim, taken aback by her accusation. That couldn’t possibly be right. “No! I don’t! I told you, I’m not a lesbian.”
Wanda smirks, her eyes trained on yours. “Okay, maybe not a lesbian but I bet you’ve thought about a girl while he’s kissing you.”
The idea was entirely preposterous. “No!” you yelled back. “I haven’t!”
But your anger is only met with amusement on Wanda’s side, her smirk only deepening as she leans back on the bed. “You’re cute when you lie.”
The words have you recoilling, the inclination behind them picked up on yet rejected by your brain. And yet, you could feel a warmth spreading to your cheeks, embarrassment flushing in.
“Have you ever kissed a girl?”
You snap on to Wanda as her question rings out, watching as she casually slides her magazine back behind her bedside table. “No,” you reply firmly. “Of course not.”
“Then how do you know you don’t like it?” The brunette sits up again, leaning in closer to you. Her eyes meet your own, a strange shadow seemingly passing over them. She watches you for a moment, in almost unreadable expression moving across her face. “Surely theres only one way to find out.”
Wanda’s voice is low, barely above a whisper. You find you’re too busy watching her lips to notice her leaning in even closer, face barely centimetres from your own. Suddenly, you pull back. “What are you doing?”
Wanda doesn’t miss a beat, continuing to lean in even as you pull away. One of her hands comes to rest on your thigh, fingers grazing the material of your pleated skirt. “It’s okay,” she says lowly. “I’m just trying to help you.”
Her advance doesn’t stop, face moving closer and close towards yours. It’s only when she’s almost touching you, you realise she’s trying to kiss you. “No,” you say quickly, pushing her back by the shoulders. “We can’t do that. It’s not right.”
Wanda sighs, relaxing her posture a little. She shifts in the bed, eyes still trained on you. For a moment she simply looks over your face before that smirk appears once more. “Maybe…” she says, angling her head. “But isn’t that the whole reason we’re here?” The question slightly throws you for a loop, your confusion allowing Wanda to move closer to you once more. “Don’t do you want to be a good girl and finish the program?”
The way her breath fans across your face sends an odd shiver down your neck, goosebumps appearing on your arms. Her choice of words seems to form an odd feeling in your stomach, but you try your best to brush it off, nodding your head in response to the question. You did want to finish the program. You wanted to be able to go back home to your family.
Wanda smiles at your answer, her head angling to the side as her voice takes a caring tone. “Well we both know what the first step is…You have to admit to yourself you like girls.” She leans in closer, her eyes briefly flashing down to your lips. “You can’t heal if you don’t admit you have a problem.”
Her words mirror those of Natasha’s, the same thing she’d been trying to get through to you for weeks. But you can’t help but fight the part of your brain that recalls everything you’ve been taught about attraction. “This isn’t right,” you say quietly. “You have to stop.” And yet you find yourself making no move to pull away from the girl whose face sits mere inches from your own.
“As I said, I’m just trying to help you.” Wanda’s voice is calm, understanding. “Once you realise you like girls, you can move on with the rest of the program.” Then the brunette shrugs a shoulder. “Or hey, you maybe hate it and realise you actually are straight.”
It makes some sense in your mind but you’re still hesitant, knowing that what Wanda was even suggesting was against everything you wanted to believe in. “I don’t think that we should-“
“Just don’t think.” Wanda cuts you off before you can finish, and before you can even process what’s happening, she closes the final gap between you. Her lips meet yours, soft and warm against your skin. It’s gentle but rough at the same time, your eyes fluttering closed. Then immediately, as the warmth leaves, they snap back open.
Wanda’s staring back at you, face smiling. “How’d that feel?” You notice that her eyes look a little blown out, pupils wide against the sea of green. “Feels good right?”
Suddenly you realise what’s just happened, every part of your upbringing screaming inside your head. “What? No!” you reply, flustering. “No, it didn’t feel good. It felt wrong.”
But some part of you creeps up in the back of your mind, a part you recognised and yet wanted to snuff out more than anything, a part that knew you were lying.
And apparently, Wanda can see right through to that part too. “I can see it on your face, honey,” she says, voice now teasing. Her eyes trace over your features and you wonder what exactly gave it away. There isn’t much time to think however, as before you know it, Wanda’s leaning in again. Her lips meet yours, a hand sliding to your thigh once more.
“Stop,” you reply, pulling away. “This isn’t right. We��re not supposed to-“
Wanda cuts you off again. “Don’t think about what we’re supposed to do. Think about what feels right.”
You notice again the wildness of her pupils, only for a moment, before she leans in again. Your eyes close on impact, her lips crashing into yours in another kiss. Only this time you instinctively lean into it, pursing your lips against hers. Wanda pushes back, her mouth opening just slightly to take in your lips and you find yourself leaning in. There’s a reminiscent taste of bubblegum, sweet on your tongue as her saliva begins to mix with your own. The hand on your thigh tightens, another placed on to the side of your face. For a second you don’t think about anything other than just how good this moment feels.
It’s seconds later Wanda pulls away, her touch lingering but her lips missing. You find your eyes opening, gazing back at the smirking brunette staring back at you. “It feels pretty good doesn’t it?”
You’re lost for words, sure of your answer to her question but so reluctant to admit it. Wanda smiles back at you, her grip on your leg slowly raising up, ever so slightly bunching the fabric of your skirt. Before you can formulate a response, she’s moving in towards you. Her face disappears into the crook of your neck, her warm breath fanning out across your skin before her lips attach. Without thinking, your head falls back, only giving the brunette more access to nip at the skin of your neck. Your eyes feel heavy, an odd sensation pooling deep in your body. “I can make you feel so good…”
The words reverberate across your skin, sending shivers down your neck and across your chest. A small whine exits your throat, unintended by any part of you but seemingly drawn out by the gentle touches of both Wanda’s lips and her fingers dancing across your skin. “Wanda…”
The brunette slowly pulls back, her face rising to meet with yours. Theres a look in her eye you can’t identify. “You’re already a sinner now, right?” she says, voice husky. “No harm in twisting the knife.”
There’s a moment where you want to turn away, to listen to the rational part of your brain that tells you this is all wrong. But right now there’s only one thing you can truly think of; just how good it felt with Wanda’s lips against your own.
Your hands grab at the brunettes shoulders as you pull her in, the pair of you colliding before you even recognise what you’re doing. The kiss comes fast, clashing together in your desperation for the girl to stop talking and just to feel her against you again. Wanda smirks against your lips, humming an amused noise before she’s all over you.
Her hands find purchase in your hair, entangling in the strands at the nape of your neck as she pulls you in closer to her body. Her kiss becomes fiercer, control quickly being regained as she presses her lips into yours. A small hum of your own escapes as she presses her tongue into your mouth, quickly taking over as you simply let her in without protest. And in that moment a thought crashes over your mind; gay or not, your boyfriend was definitely bad at kissing. Furthermore, Wanda was very, very good.
Your hands grips slightly at her shoulders as the brunette domineers the kiss, her lips almost possessive against your own as her hand clutches as your cheek, manipulating your position to give her full control. You feel her other hand begin to drift further up your legs, pushing your skirt up to your hips before climbing even higher. Delicate touches grace over your stomach, then softly against your chest. You release a small whine as Wanda nips at your lip with her teeth, at the same time, reaching to unbutton the top clasp of your shirt. Her fingers work faster than your mind can even process, too distracted by the touch of her lips to notice her quick work of opening your entire shirt. It’s only when she reaches to touch your chest, a gasp of realisation releases from your throat.
Wanda however, continues without missing a beat. As you gasp, she lets her lips leave your own, reappearing quickly on the side of your neck. Her hand tightens around the skin beneath it on your chest, fingers squeezing around your bra and grabbing hold of your breast beneath it. Her soft kisses continue to move lower as you whine softly, her touch against your chest sending shivers down your body.
Then, her mouth turns more aggressive, resting just at the curve of your breast she begins to suck on the flesh harder, nipping with her teeth before smoothing it over with her tongue. You whine softly, the new sensation novel to your body but so intrinsically intuned. For the first time your eyes open, looking down to where the brunette resides again your chest. You notice the way your necklace rests between the wisps of her hair, a silver cross that you’d worn every day for years. The image is enough to remind you of how wrong this is, how under no circumstances you should be letting a girl kiss you or touch your body like this. But before you can fully wrap your mind around the forbidden nature of the act, a new sensation is stripping a small gasp from your chest. Wanda’s fingers move back to your thighs, slipping up the exposed skin before coming to rest on your underwear underneath.
“Wanda…” you breathe heavily, worked up by her touch and yet knowing how wrong it all was. You shouldn’t be doing this, any of it, especially what Wanda was insinuating as she slipped her hand beneath your skirt.
“Shh, it’s okay.” The brunette replies with ease, her voice low and sensual. Her eyes raise back up to your face, meeting your gaze with a blown out expression. “Let me make you feel good, Y/N.”
And with that, her mouth is on yours again. Her kiss is enough to distract you from forming a response, eyes closing as the sweet taste of bubblegum coats your tongue once more. Then you feel her fingers again, pressing lightly against the material of your underwear, tracing the lines of your folds underneath. Small noises travel from your mouth to hers, receptive to her touch, but it’s when she presses her thumb to your clothed clit, a moan finally slips out.
The situation is entirely new to you, never having been touched by anyone this way before. You and your boyfriend had always said you’d wait till marriage, just like you knew you should. But here with Wanda, her lips against yours and her fingers tracing your most delicate areas, the endorphins flowing through your brain are enough to say to hell with it all.
You push harder into the kiss, grasping hold of Wanda’s shoulders as you try to gain the upper hand. But the brunette is much more experienced than you and doesn’t let up easily. Her hands move to your own shoulders and quickly begin to push the open shirt from them. Her lips remain on yours, strong and fierce, until the shirt has been slipped from your body. Then Wanda pulls away, her eyes drifting down over you for just a moment before she’s grabbing at you again. She spins you around, pulling you fully on to the bed as her hands press your shoulders down into the mattress. In a swift movement, she’s kicking off her shoes to the floor, then pulling yours off too. She comes to settle on top of you, knees placed either side of your legs as she looks down. Her hands are quick as she unbuttons her own shirt, tossing it to the side. Then, she’s moving to unclip her bra.
You feel your eyes widen slightly as Wanda’s bare chest is revealed to you. Before the magazine she’d shown you minutes before, it’s the first time you’ve looked at another woman so nude. And in that moment, despite what your brain is screaming out to you, you can’t help but think about how good she looks.
Wanda seems to notice your staring, her face pulling an entirely amused expression as she looks down at you. “I don’t see why you deprive yourself of this, Y/N,” she says, beginning to lean in. Her lips meet your neck, sucking gently as you feel her fingers slip behind your shoulder blades, seeking the clasp of your bra. “Can something truly be so wrong if it brings you so much pleasure?”
You try to reply to her question, brain racking all of the answers you know you should be saying. But then her lips are sucking at your neck and you’re arching into her touch, once again taken over entirely by the flush of pleasure underneath her control. Theres a release against your chest as Wanda unclips your bra, tossing it easily to the side along with her own. “So gorgeous,” the brunette murmurs, one hand coming to grab at your chest. Then her lips are on you again, kissing at the skin around your nipple. When she pulls it into her mouth, teeth grazing over the bud, a needy whine erupts in your throat. Wanda smirks against you, breathing out a laugh. “So sensitive.”
Her mouth continues to work around the skin of your chest, before you notice her fingers crawling over your stomach. They take hold of your skirt, pressing it up to bunch at your waist. Then Wanda is moving away, fingers quickly hooking themselves under the sides of your underwear as she begins to slide them down.
For a sudden moment, you’re acutely aware of what’s going on, of how you are quite literally in a dorm at a camp where this type of behaviour was attempted to be corrected. Not to mention the rule of any sort of fraternisation being entirely banned. “Wait,” you say, looking down at the brunette between your legs, suddenly afraid of what you were about to do. “I don’t think-“
“I told you to stop thinking,” Wanda replies, eyes snapping to yours. She continues to pull your underwear down, throwing them to the floor once they’ve passed your ankles. Before you can say anything more, her lips drown you in a kiss. The sweetness of it all is enough to wipe any of the doubt from your mind, so when Wanda’s hands dip between your legs, you don’t hesitate to let her. Deft fingers run between your folds, teasing you slightly as they brush gently across your clit. You sigh breathily between the breaks of your kiss, Wanda’s touch like electric to your skin.
“God, you’re so wet, Y/N,” the brunette whispers, pulling her face away to smirk down at you. “Is this all for me?”
She’s teasing you, making you think about how hesitant you’d been to this whole idea, and then about how receptive you were under her touch. But you don’t want to think about any of that, don’t want to remind yourself of how wrong this all was. All you want is for her to keep going. “Wanda…” you whine, squirming under her as her fingers teased your entrance. “Please.”
You don’t even truly know what you’re asking for her to do, all you know is you need her. Thankfully, the brunette is proficient in picking up your body’s signals. “Shh, it’s okay,” she whispers, breath fanning across your face. “I know what you need, princess. Don’t worry, I’ll take care of it.”
It’s only seconds later you feel her middle finger plunge into you. You let out a loud gasp at the contact, feeling her finger begin to move inside of you like nobody’s had before. Her name drips off your tongue, laced with pleasure, as her head moves back to your chest, tongue playing with your hardened nipple. Theres a mark resting there, red and throbbing below the skin of your cross. In the heat of the moment, you hands reach out to grasp the back of her head, intertwining with her hair as you feel her add another finger inside you.
The pleasure rolls of you in waves, Wanda’s touch like a skilled professional highly attuned to draw sweet subtle moans from your mouth. Her thumb circles your clit as she continues to pump her fingers inside of you, curling them to reach that spot that sends shivers up your spine.
“Fuck, Wanda,” you murmur, nails lightly scratching at her bare back.
The brunette chuckles, raising her head from your chest. “Now that’s not a very holy word, is it Y/N?” She smirks, and for a moment her touch is gone. You whine, chasing her fingers as they leave your needy core. Theres a second she lifts her weight and you see her reaching to remove her own underwear, then she’s back on you, this time sitting against just on of your thighs. You can feel her wetness against your skin, a soft moan escaping as she makes contact. “I wanna cum with you, okay?” she says, eyes meeting yours. You nod eagerly but your reply is swallowed up by a low cry as her fingers suddenly sink back into you.
Her speed picks up as she begins to curl inside you once again, a soft stream of curses leaving your lips at the unexplainable pleasure of her touch. You can feel Wanda begin to grind on to your thigh as she works, soft gasps escaping from her lips each time her clit brushes beautifully against your skin. She showers your praises as you whimper noises of your own, breaths heavy and moans unrestrained as she brings you closer and closer to that edge.
“You’re so fucking gorgeous, princess,” Wanda husks over you. “Such a pretty girl for me.”
Her words only add to the building feeling in your lower stomach, that familiar coil building from the times you’d reached down to pleasure yourself after your parents had went to bed - not that you would tell anyone that.
“Please, Wanda,” you whimper, back arching into her. “I’m close-please…”
One hand continues to pump inside you, paced perfectly as her curled fingers reached that spot with each thrust. The other come up to play with a perked nipple, the bud rolling though Wanda’s fingers as helpless whines spill from your mouth. “Just a minute, princess,” Wanda replies, her breathing heavy. “I’m almost there.”
Surprisingly, her pace doesn’t falter as she too climbs closer to her orgasm. Her moans grow louder, her cunt grinding harder against your thigh as she continues to swirl your clit at the perfect speed. It’s when you finally tense the muscles in your leg, that she finally falls apart.
You feel her soak your thigh, gasping desperately as she cums. You watch mesmerised as her face screws up, her jaw hanging loose as she rides out her orgasm on your leg, drunk on pleasure. It only adds to the bundling arousal pooling in your lower stomach.
“Cum, pretty girl” Wanda whispers, still coming down from her high. “Cum for me.”
And you do. With her fingers curling just right inside you, you finally tip over the edge. Your orgasm comes hard, crashing over you in a tidal wave as Wanda slowly circles your clit, guiding you through it. A guttural moan elicits from your throat, Wanda’s name lacing your tongue. That pleasant buzz takes over your mind as you feel her fingers slow, riding out your high, drunk on her touch. You’re on the brink of overstimulation when she finally removes her hand entirely. Eventually your eyelids flutter open, heavy from exhaustion, and you spy the brunette with her fingers deep isnide her mouth, her tongue lapping up every last bit of your arousal.
“So sweet,” she murmurs above you, both of your minds still fuzzy from the resounding pleasure. Eventually, the brunette moves herself away from your thigh, whining slightly as her core is exposed to the cool air. Her body flops down next to yours, shoulders touching as you lay cramped in the single cot. Your heavy breaths are the only sound for a long while, loud in the silence of the dormitory. Then finally, when you’ve managed to right your body again, your face turns to look at the girl beside you. Wanda is already staring back, green eyes wide as a huge smirk settles across her lips. She looks you up and down, her grin only widening as she husks, “You still wanna believe you’re not into girls?”.
#wanda maximoff x reader#wanda maximoff#wanda maximoff smut#wanda maximoff fanfiction#wanda maximoff fic#marvel
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Theodore Nott talking dirty in Italian to fem reader who doesn’t know Italian but finds it super hot, with a smutty ending?
Yes! I love this idea. I think he'd love it a lot if you didn't speak Italian, just so he could tease you more. Also, I used google translate, so idk how accurate it is, but hopefully it works.
Dirty Talking
Theodore Nott x F!Reader
Warnings: Oral(Male receiving), cussing, unprotected sex, creampie.
18+ Minors DNI!
You always loved when your boyfriend would talk in Italian. Something about the way it sounded and rolled off of his tongue just did something to you. He could be saying anything in Italian and you’d want him to just take you right there as he kept talking.
And Theo noticed. He wasn’t stupid. He saw the way you would blush ever so slightly and press your thighs together. He just never said anything because he liked watching your reactions and he knew you’d try to stop your reactions if he mentioned them.
But when he was arguing with Draco about the quidditch practice as you all were heading back up to the castle, he slipped into Italian as he cursed him out. You suddenly got flustered and blushed. Theo noticed this, forgetting about the argument with Draco as he waved him off, dragging you away into a broom closet. He was frustrated and needed a release and he could tell you were turned on.
“Theo, what are you doing?” You asked as he closed the door behind you two.
“Ti scoperò.” He said into your ear as he pushed you against the wall, pressing kisses down your neck.
“Wait, what?” You asked, your brain trying to catch up with his actions as he spoke Italian.
“Ti scoperò. Sii buono con me.” He said before kissing you. It was rough, a hand in your hair and another on your waist. He pulled back and pushed you onto your knees, undoing his pants. “Così bello.”
“I don’t know what you’re saying.” You said, but you could feel how wet you were becoming.
“You love it, though, don’t you, cara mia.” He smiled down at you as he pulled out his cock. “Aprire.” He said as he tapped his tip on your lips as he grabbed your hair.
You had no idea what he was saying, but you opened your mouth and he pushed your head down his cock until you gagged. He let out such a hot moan before guiding your head up and down his cock, tears building in your eyes as you held onto his thighs.
“Così dannatamente sporco. Look at what you do to me, principessa.” He moaned. “Mi prendi così bene.”
God, his fucking deep voice with those words. You didn’t even care what he was saying, it just sounded so good, so filthy to you.
“Merda. You’re so fucking good to me.” He said before pulling out of your mouth and up off the floor. He pushed down your panties before turning you around to press your front against the wall. “You’re so fucking wet from me talking in Italian, huh?” He slipped his fingers through your folds, feeling how soaked you were.
“Yes, fuck! Yes, it’s so good.” You moaned.
“Così sporco.” He said before removing his fingers and teasing your folds with his cock. “You want me to fill you up, mi amore?”
“Yes, please!”
“Who knew a little Italian would get you all slutty for my cock.” He teased before thrusting into you. He covered your mouth before you could make a sound. “Stai zitto. You want everyone to hear?”
He started thrusting, using his free hand to wrap around your front, holding you closer to him. You were moaning and crying out into his hand, your hands holding onto the wall for support.
“Così buono. You’re taking me so well.” He said quietly in your ear before kissing your neck. His chest was pressed against your back, trapping you against the wall as he kept fucking into you. “Do you wanna cum, principessa?”
You nodded against his hand, moans only getting louder as he angled his hips slightly to hit that spot that makes you see stars.
“Sei così avido. Sei così sporco. Lo adoro.” He said, moving his hand that’s wrapped around you to play with your clit. The combination of his dick inside you, him playing with your clit, and the Italian were enough to have you cumming in mere moments, trembling and crying out into his hand. “Brava ragazza. Good fucking girl.” He praised, helping you ride out your orgasm. “You gonna be a good girl and let me cum in you?” He asked as his thrusts sped up, chasing his own orgasm. You nodded against his hand again, whining and whimpering as he overstimulated you. He cussed as he came, slipped between English and Italian as he moaned in your ear, filling your pussy with his cum. He removed his hand from your mouth and pulled out, slipping your panties back up with a smile as he kissed your cheek. “Guess I found another weakness, huh, cara mia?” He teased.
#slytherin boys#slytherin boys x reader#slytherin boys smut#thedore nott x reader#theodore nott#theodore nott smut#theodore nott x reader smut
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Katherine’s horny thought has been sent to you: 💌
Bucky Barnes is a feral man when it comes to his girl and seeing her being friendly with Steve…he cannot contain himself anymore. You gotta share something angsty and smutty babe. For all of us. 🤍
Here’s a promt:
“Are you trying to make me jealous doll? Cause it’s fucking working.”
You’re Mine » Bucky Barnes/Winter Soldier
Pairings: Boyfriend!Bucky Barnes x Girlfriend!Reader
Summary: Bucky makes sure his best girl knows that she’s his and only his when he sees her getting a little to friendly with Steve.
Warnings: Angst, Smut (18+), language, mentions of alcohol, jealousy, kissing, hickeys, fingering, unprotected sex, daddy kink, metal arm kink, praise kink, praise kink, choking, degrading, name calling (slut), use of pet names
A/N: Thank you for requesting @katherineswritingsblog 🩷
Written on my phone. I’m sorry for any mistakes and typos.
Header made by @buckys-wintersoldier
GIF IS NOT MINE! Credit goes to the creators.
MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!🔞
Bucky watched from across the room as your hand rubbed Steve’s bicep, giving it a squeeze. His right hand was clutching the glass so tight that it could shatter any second. Bucky’s jaw clenched when you kissed Steve on his cheek. That was the last straw for him. Bucky downed the rest of his whiskey and slammed the glass on the table, not caring if he broke it or not.
“Hey doll, we better call it a night. We have that thing to do tomorrow.” Bucky says, grabbing your upper arm.
“What thing?” You asked, furrowing your eyebrows in confusion.
“You know what I’m talking about.” He says, tightening his grip on your arm, making you wince slightly.
“Oh yea!” You went along with it. “Goodnight, Stevie.” You say, kissing Steve’s cheek again.
Bucky practically drug you out of the room to the elevator and to yours and his shared bedroom. He closed and locked the door the second you two got in the bedroom. He then pinned you against the wall.
“Are you trying to make me jealous, doll? Cause it’s fucking working.” He practically growls.
“Now you know how I feel, James.” You say with sass in your tone.
Bucky chuckles and shook his head.
“So this is what that little stunt was about, huh?” He starts. “You decided to flirt with Steve cause I was talking to that girl at the coffee shop yesterday.” He says.
“More like flirting.” You say with an attitude.
Bucky grasped your jaw, making you look straight at him. His blue eyes were filled with jealousy, anger, and lust.
“How many god damn times do I have to tell you? I told her that I have a girlfriend and wanted nothing to do with her.” He says, almost gritting his teeth.
“That’s not what I saw!” You say.
“What did you think you seen, babydoll?” He asks.
“You were flirting with her! That’s what I seen and heard!” You say.
“And you think that it makes it right to flirt with my best friend?” He says.
“I wanted to give you a taste of your own medicine.” You say.
Bucky scoffs and shakes his head.
“Let me tell you something, babydoll…” His face got closer to yours, his lips inches from yours. “You’re fucking mine. Not Steve’s. Mine.” Bucky growls.
The next thing you know, you hear the sound of fabric tearing. Bucky just ripped off your dress. You didn’t even have time to react to it cause he yanked your panties down your legs and picked you up. You instinctively wrapped your legs around his waist. Bucky almost immediately latched his lips on your neck, his teeth biting down hard enough to mark you up. A moan left your lips when his metal fingers rubbed your clit. His fingers found their way to your wet entrance, circling it teasingly before unexpectedly sliding two metal fingers inside of you. His fingers fucked you fast while his metal thumb rubbed your clit. You threw your head back against the wall, moans of his name leaving your lips.
“Oh daddy!” You moaned.
His fingers found your sweet spot almost immediately. Your pussy clenched around his fingers every time his fingers hit it.
“You’re such a fucking slut for me.” Bucky almost whispers. “I bet I can get you to cum in seconds just with my metal fingers.” He says.
You couldn’t form any coherent words. Moans and whimpers left your lips the more he degraded you. Honestly, you fucking love it when he degrades you. Bucky knows it turns you on. That’s why he does it.
His fingers were hitting all of the right spots, massaging your wet and warm walls and hitting your sweet spot causing your cunt to squeeze around his fingers. Your orgasm was building up quickly.
“I bet you’re so close, aren’t you, doll?” Bucky taunts. “You want to cum, don’t you?” He says.
“Yes please, daddy!” You whimpered.
“That’s too bad.” He abruptly took his fingers out of your pussy and leaving you frustrated. “You’re not gonna cum for a while.” He says, making you whine in frustration.
Bucky walked you over to the bed, dropping you on it. You propped yourself up on your elbows and watched as Bucky stripped himself out of his clothes. You looked down at his hard cock and licked your lips.
“My eyes are up here, doll face.” Bucky says, snapping his fingers.
“Shut up and fuck me.” You sassed.
Bucky spread your legs and got in between them. A loud moan left your lips when Bucky thrusted his cock inside of you in one thrust. You decided to test him more.
“Is that all you got? I’m sure Steve can give me more.” You say tauntingly.
A growl left Bucky’s lips. His metal hand wrapped around your throat, squeezing a little bit. He put his hand on the headboard above your head and began pounding into you. Your nails left red scratch marks on his back. Loud moans left your lips.
“Say that again. I fucking dare you.” Bucky growls. “Steve doesn’t know your body like I do. He wouldn’t know how to touch you like I do.” He says.
Pleasure took over your body. Bucky’s cock was hitting your sweet spot repeatedly. His fingers on his right hand found their way to your clit and began rubbing to the point where you were sensitive. Your pussy squeezed around his cock.
“Daddy, please!” You whined. “Please let me cum!” You begged. “I’ll be a good girl!” You whined again.
“I don’t think so, babydoll. You’re not gonna cum until I do.” He says.
“But daddy!” You whined.
“Quit your fucking whining.” He says, applying light pressure on your throat.
You tried your best to not cum, but it was so hard. His cock kept hitting your sweet spot, making you want to cum. Bucky pulled you into a rough kiss, his tongue slid past your parted lips and explored every inch of your mouth.
“You want to cum so badly?” Bucky asks. “Prove to me that you deserve to cum.” He says.
“I won’t ever flirt with Steve again. I promise to be a good girl and listen to what daddy says.” You say, followed by a whimper.
“You better be a good girl and do what I say.” He starts. “Cum for daddy, doll.” He whispers.
Your eyes rolled to the back of your head and a loud moan of his name left your lips as you came hard, soaking the sheets beneath you. Bucky’s thrusts became sloppy and he came inside of you. He thrusted a few more times before pulling out and laid down next to you. Both of you were sweaty and panting.
“Flirt with Steve again and I won’t hesitate to tie you to the bed and edge you.” Bucky says.
🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵
-Bucky’s Doll
#sergeant james buchanan barnes#sergeant james barnes#sergeant barnes#james buchanan bucky barnes#james buchanan barnes#james bucky barnes#james barnes#bucky barnes#winter soldier#sebastian stan#sebastian stan characters#avengers#marvel#marvel mcu#mcu#bucky barnes x female reader#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes angst#bucky barnes smut#bucky barnes oneshot#bucky barnes imagine
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I have a request please 💜 I had the most random idea, Eddie and his gf who is quite shy and sweet, she makes one of those paper fortune teller things and uses it with Eddie, she uses it in a cute way, like to see how many kisses he will get and things like that but maybe Eddie then makes one of his own but his is not so innocent 😈 just basically him making a game out of ways he can please his girl..he will probably try get her to choose certain numbers too because he knows the answers beneath them 😅 but yeah just something fluffy and ofc smutty if you would like! Thankyouuuuu 🥰 love your work
•{to request} {Eddie’s masterlist} {my masterlist}•
Thirteen Kisses
Eddie Munson x innocent!fem!reader
Summary: for Eddie, you make a paper fortune game that buys you tons of kisses, for you, Eddie makes a paper fortune game that buys him the opportunity to make you feel as good as possible
wordcount: 2.2k
Warnings: Smut, Swearing, petnames, marking/hickeys, oral (f receiving), making out, unprotected sex
There was always a seat next to Eddie at the hellfire table in the cafeteria, and that seat was always reserved for you. That seat was also almost always empty, because each day, you opted to sit in Eddie’s lap rather than your own chair. He of course didn’t mind, the closer you were, the better. He loved nothing more than holding you and doting on you, his special girl.
“It’s called a fortune teller! But mine’s special and I made it just for us.” You grinned at your boyfriend, kicking your feet excitedly as you sat in his lap, leaning against his chest and showing him the fortune teller you made. “First you gotta pick a colour.”
Eddie rested his head against yours as he looked down at the paper origami in your hand. “Hmm… red.” He stated and you started to move the fortune teller in your hands, spelling out the word ‘red’. He caught on quick, and unprompted, he picked a number, 7, and you moved the fortune teller again, counting to 7. Finally, out of the visible numbers, he picked 2. You flipped it up and smiled.
“Thirteen! You gotta give me thirteen kisses.” You smiled before correcting yourself, “Unless you don’t wanna-”
“Shut up.” He laughed playfully and kissed you quickly, he only pulled back for a second before he was kissing you again. He kissed your lips five times, each cheek once, the tip of your nose, and then five more kisses on your lips. By the end of those thirteen kisses, you were both giggling a ton.
You raised the fortune teller in your hands once more. “Again?” You asked, and he was quick to comply, huge smile on his face.
He picked the colour purple, then the number six, and finally the number four. "Eight kisses!" You were smiling from ear to ear, and Eddie was only able to match it himself.
Of course he immediately complied, peppering seven kisses over your face and giving you one big wet kiss on your soft lips to finish it off. Your sweet laughter was music to his ears, he'd do anything to be able to hear it for the rest of his life.
"Now, how's this fair?" He spoke loudly, faking anger as he gently snatched the fortune teller from your hands. "Does it work for me to? Can I get kisses? Or... maybe only the princess gets kisses... No kisses for a lowly peasant like myself." He sighed dramatically and you giggled. He couldn't force the smile off of his face.
You gently shook his wrist with your hand, "C'mon! You can get kisses too." You leaned your head against his shoulder, waiting a beat for him to figure out how to move the paper properly.
"Pink!" "Three!" "Five!"
Eddie leaned forward just slightly, pressing his chest into your side as he flipped up the paper. "Looks like... you owe me thirty kisses!" He exclaimed and placed the fortune teller on the table.
You rolled your eyes and giggled, "That's not what it looks like- that said six kisses, not thirty." You pouted and he pouted back, leaning closer and closer to you.
"Pretty sure it said thirty baby... what, you don't wanna kiss me thirty times?" He brought a hand up, gripping his chest dramatically.
You groaned, entirely pleased and kissed him hard. You gave him kisses on the lips, cheeks, nose, jaw, and a couple on his neck, because you knew he liked that. You both smiled and you leaned your head against his, but all too soon your interaction was interrupted by Dustin gagging dramatically from his spot at the table.
You pouted as you and Eddie turned to look at him. "Don't mind him baby, he's just jealous and lonely." Eddie rolled his eyes and gave you a big, loud kiss on your cheek.
"Awe... I'm sorry Dustin. If you want you can use my fortune teller! You and Mike can give each other some kisses." You offered, so sweet and polite, seeming so kind that it was almost hard to tell you were joking. Eddie barked out a laugh, kissing you again. He loved watching the way your humour changed to become more like his.
✽-
You yawned as you stretched out on your stomach, resting on Eddie's bed. You felt the mattress dip as he kneeled beside you. "Look, I got somethin' to show you." He spoke in a hushed tone. Excitedly, you sat up facing him, and smiled when you saw a new fortune teller in his hands. "I got Robin to show me how to make one, mines special too." He explained. You could tell by his face that he was up to something.
There was a moment of silence, you and Eddie staring into each others eyes before you finally focused you're attention on the fortune teller. "Pink... Four... Seven." You watched Eddie move closer to you.
"Hmm... you get to make out with me for five minutes." Eddie grinned wildly, holding up five fingers. He waited for you to smile back at him before he cupped your face, pulling you to meet his lips with your own.
It didn't take long before his tongue was pressing past your lips, Eddie's always been an eager kisser, and you loved being kissed by him. You hummed softly and he responded by moaning deeply into your mouth, the sound forcing heat to your core.
Five minutes went by fast. You were left with kiss bitting lips, slick with spit. Cheeks burning red, eyes glistening, and thighs pressing together. It didn't take much to get you there, excited and needy for your boyfriend. Eddie loved that about you.
Eddie sighed contentedly and gave you a free kiss on the cheek before he held up his fortune teller again. You squished your cheek against Eddie's shoulder. "Pink... three... one." You chewed your lip excitedly. '10 hickeys from Eddie' written in his nearly unreadable handwriting.
He smirked and placed the paper down, hand moving to the hem of your top where he pulled lightly. "Let's get this off of you pretty girl." He helped you take off your shirt, your bra followed quickly. A smile never left his face as he gently pushed you back against his pillows.
Normally, Eddie took his time working you up, placing kisses over every inch of your body that he could reach before he even thought about marking your skin. Today however, he jumped right into what the fortune teller told him to do, not wasting any time before he eagerly sucked a dark hickey onto the side of your throat.
Like usual, he made a trail; three hickeys on the left side of your neck, one on your collarbone, one on your sternum. You weaved the fingers of your right hand through his hair as he began to kiss and suck the flesh of your right breast. He clearly enjoyed this just as much as you, soft hums against your skin and his evident boner pressing into your leg.
Two hickeys on one breast and three on the other. You were breathing heavy, ready for him to just take you, just fill you up already. Your heart raced as he picked up the paper fortune teller again.
"You know the drill baby." He smiled, his own cheeks flushed. It took you a moment to tear your eyes away from the bulge in his jeans and focus.
"Blue... four... two."
You watched intently as he flipped the paper up and read it to himself, an intimidating smirk growing on his face. "Get those shorts of baby- panties too."
Immediately, you through your shorts and panties off of yourself and to the ground, resting back against the pillows. You wanted Eddie in you so bad, you couldn't wait.
It took a second before you registered the fact that Eddie hadn't taken off any of his own clothes. By then, he was already on his stomach between your legs, licking a long stripe through your folds and stopping to lick at your clit.
You moaned loudly, back arching and hands gripping Eddie's sheets beneath you. You hadn't expected him to eat you out, you'd expected him to fuck you. You wanted him to fuck you. But this, you were more than happy with this.
Eddie spread your lips apart, admiring your wet cunt for a moment before he dove in, tongue driving inside of you. You whimpered loudly, pressing back against his face. His nose bumped against your clit over and over again and it was perfect, Eddie was always so talented at pleasing you with his mouth.
"Feels s'good." You praised him and he moaned in response, trying to press himself closer to you if that was even possible. It felt so good as he fucked you with his tongue, your thighs shook on either side of his head. He moaned in response to every sound you let out and it shook your core. He always enjoyed giving you head just as much as you enjoyed receiving it.
You could feel the beginnings of an orgasm building up, but you needed more attention on your clit. You grabbed a fistful of his hair and pulled up gently. Of course he understood immediately what you wanted and he wrapped his lips around your clit, sucking harshly.
The mattress underneath you creaked as you writhed in pleasure, hand still tugging on Eddie's hair. You were pulling moans from him that tortured your sensitive clit and had your orgasm hurtling to you. "Eddie- god, Eddie please- gonna cum." You warned him, voice watery and desperate.
He hummed in approval and that was that, your back arching incredibly high and your throat straining as you moaned loud enough that his neighbours could probably hear you. He kept licking you through your orgasm, then gentle kisses on your thighs and pussy as you came down from your high. "Thank you." You nearly whispered.
"You are ever so welcome." Eddie grinned at you, moving to his knees as he wiped his mouth and chin off on his sleeve, cleaning his face of your juices.
You sat up slightly as he picked up the fortune teller again, you just wanted him to fuck you so bad. "Please, Eddie I jus' need you, need you in me so so bad." Your voice was thick with need, tears threatening your eyes.
He smirked cockily at you, even though he wanted the same thing. "C'mon baby." He pointed the fortune teller, prompting you to pick a colour.
"Uh, pink, two, um...-" You looked up at Eddie pleadingly.
Eddie took sympathy on you, his sweet baby. "Out of curiosity." He started. "What's five plus three? I know you know, my smart girl."
You smiled thankfully, excitedly. "Eight!" You started to sit up further but he put a hand on your shoulder, pushing you so you were laying back fully, you giggled.
He flipped the paper up. "Hmm... seems like you're gonna get to cum on my cock after all." He tossed the paper beside you, watching hungrily as he stripped himself of his clothes.
He wasn't taking his time and neither did you; you were both just desperate for one another. You were already so wet, and he did a good job getting you ready with his mouth, so neither of you were surprised when his cock slid inside you with no reluctance.
You moaned, arms reaching around Eddie to hold him closer to you, nails digging into his shoulders. It only spurred him on even more, moaning into your neck as he fucked you as fast as he could.
He'd been hard since making out, and he was about to blow his load embarrassingly soon. He sucked on the skin of your neck, already marked up from earlier, and reached a shaky hand down to your clit. The broken moan you let out almost had him cumming in you right then and there.
"Eddie-" you moaned his name, resting your head against his as you arched your back, tits pressing against his chest. You could feel yourself getting closer and closer to cumming, he could feel you clenching around him repeatedly, he knew you were close.
"Come on doll, cum for me, wanna feel you soak my cock, come on, c'mon-" you cut him off with a loud moan, close to a scream as you came, nails dragging down his back.
Hearing you cum and feeling you claw up his back was enough to trigger his orgasm. His thrusts grew sloppy as the dam broke, cock twitching inside you.
You whimpered as you felt the warm sensation of him cumming inside you, filling you up. He kept fucking you, through your orgasm and his own. You felt some of his cum drip out of you and he watched as he fucked it back inside, making sure not a drop was wasted.
He stopped before either of you got too overstimulated, hovering over you, forehead pressed to the pillow next to your head. "Did so good baby." He kissed your cheek and you smiled, stroking his back gently.
"Gonna help me make another fortune teller later? We squished this one..." he laughed and you did too. Of course you would agree.
#eddie munson#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson smut#petalwrites#smut#fluff#eddie x reader#eddie x fem!reader#eddie munson stranger things#eddie stranger things#requested#innocent!reader#eddie munson x innocent!reader
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