#when you want to look fancy just take a fancy glass and fill it with something you like
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MORE ANGST.
Like, okay, more angst for reader, but I need some angst for 141. Like PLEASE.
So, the reader, frustrated (mentally and physically), decides to take things onto their own hands. If they treat them as if they don't exist, so will they. It starts simple. They don't greet them good morning and goodbye anymore, when the team would only offer a grunt or nod of acknowledgment. Reader doesn't ask them to hang out, or to join into their plans. They start living for themselves, not quite leaving them, more like treating the four men like roommates. Whenever one would initiate intimacy, reader would slip away, offering some lame excuse. At the same time, just an hour later, they'd see a glimpse of reader, all dressed up and pretty, not bothering to let them know where they'd be going as they run out the front door, only to be heared from a couple of hours later. Stumbling through the front door with a second pair of footsteps following suit, and a hearty male laugh. The apartment was as much reader's as it was the boys' so it should be normal they brought someone home ... but was this what the task force 141 though?
changed it ever so slightly but I love this yes
c/w: poly!141, mentions of emotional neglect, alcohol, intoxication
you got the idea after scrolling through social media, rotting away in bed had become a common routine for you. an advertisement had popped up for a bar that opened up a few months ago, you remember asking johnny and kyle to go with you but they were too busy at the time
it looked like a nice enough place. not like the dive bars in camden that simon takes you to, or those annoying ass scotch bars in canary wharf that john insists on ‘introducing’ you to. as if you’ve never had a glass of scotch before. the memory makes you scoff to yourself
surprisingly, it doesn’t take much to convince yourself to just… go. if they won’t go with you, there’s no reason why you can’t convince yourself. they were too busy ignoring you to notice you’d be gone anyway. so, you drag yourself out of bed and rifle through the wardrobe for something to wear
looking good really does make you feel good, you say to yourself when you catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror once you were ready. you’d decided on a fitted black dress with a pair of black strapped heels. they wouldn’t notice but you added a bit of detail to the outfit
if they did notice that every piece of jewellery was a piece they had bought for you, it would fucking burn. the diamond skull-shaped studs that simon got you, the vintage locket that john had found for you when he was deployed, and the anklet that kyle had grabbed from some fancy jewellery store on oxford street paired with the stunning ring that johnny found at a local market in scotland
you took a deep breath and held your head high before grabbing your purse. when you entered the front room, all conversation stopped as usual. but only because they were too busy eyeing you up and down, “where’re you goin’ dressed like that?”
you roll your eyes when john speaks up, not even stopping to respond. a curt ‘out’ leaving your lips as you walk out the front door and slam it loudly. the boys all looked at each other, shifting in their seats uncomfortably at the interaction
john narrowed his eyes as he glared at the front door. he didn’t like not knowing where you were. even if you didn’t know it, john always knew about your whereabouts
the bar was nice, nice enough for you to drink your feelings away in. in your head, you imagined flirting with anyone just to make the boys jealous. but every time someone approached you, it just filled you with more sadness. perhaps a part of you just wanted the boys to grab you, persuade you to stay with sweet words and gentle kisses like they used to do when you looked this good
it was a few hours past midnight when you finally returned, simon awakened by the sounds of giggling outside and your keys jangling in the door. he didn’t plan on getting out of bed until he heard a male voice speaking along side yours
he stalked down the stairs, following the sounds of your heels stumbling until he found you in the front room. you were drunk out of your fucking mind with some random bloke holding you up. simon’s fists clenched at his side and he decided to make his presence known
“better take your hand off her before you fuckin’ lose it, mate.” he spits, taking a step closer to yank you from the man’s grip. you squeak and stumble from the harsh tug, landing right against simon’s bulky frame as he holds on to your arm to keep you steady
the man takes a step back, holding his hands up in surrender. “woah, i’m not here to cause any trouble. was just making sure she got home safe. my colleague over served her and she said her roommates were too busy to pick her up.”
simon clenches his jaw, keeping his gaze on the man and just waiting for him to step out of line. he doesn’t even notice that the others have climbed out of bed too, coming downstairs to hear what the commotion is about
he turns his head only to shove you into price’s arms, squaring his shoulders as he stares the bartender down. “well, our girl is home and safe now so you best be on your way.”
“relax, mate. she’s really not my type. that one there is more my type.” the bartender chuckles, nodding his head towards soap before turning around and walking out the door but not before giving you a goodbye
price steadies your body against him, already getting an idea of the kind of drunken state that you’re in. he lifts your basically limp body into his arms before carrying you up to bed but he doesn’t take you to the spare room. he takes you to what you have recently come to know as their room
“had a bit too much, princess?” he chuckles, placing you down on the bed. you look at him confused before letting your head fall to the pillow
“‘m still your princess?” you mumble into the fabric. price frowns slightly, turning his head to look at the boys before making work on taking your heels off
“course. you always have been.” he mumbles. you respond with a small hum before completely passing out against the sheets…
#mw2#cod mw2#simon ghost riley#simon riley#simon riley x reader#captain john price#john price#john price x reader#ghost x reader#kyle gaz garrick x reader#kyle garrick x reader#kyle gaz garrick#kyle garrick#john soap mctavish x reader#soap mactavish#soap mactavish x reader#soap x reader
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⌇ YOU'RE MADE OF, ANGEL DUST 𓍼 ﹙ PRINCESS TREATMENT ﹚
. . ──𝖺𝗅𝗍𝖾𝗋𝗇𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗏𝖾𝗅𝗒, 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖺𝗋𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗂𝗋 𝖽𝖺𝗋𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗅𝗂𝗍𝗍𝗅𝖾 𝗉𝗋𝗂𝗇𝖼𝖾𝗌𝗌.
﹙ 𝒘𝐞𝐛 ⭑ 𝒅𝐞𝐭𝐚𝐢𝓁𝓈. ﹚ enhypen being the rhys larsen to your bridget. fem!r. fluff, fluffffff and fluffff. requested. wordcount` 1907. アーカイブ ARCHIVE?
PLS REBLOG!!!!
𝐋𝐄𝐄 𝐇𝐄𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐔𝐍𝐆
gives you his coat, heeseung always makes sure to be properly dressed to accommodate you. taking out his warm fuzzy coat for you to wear when you're cold and don't have enough layers to when you need his jacket to cover your lap while seated, your dress riding up. although he absolutely loves having his hands on your tender skin, kneading your thighs when you sit beside him to his arm hooked at the curve of your waist able to feel the heat off your body; he'd rather have you feel comfortable and free.
holds all your stuff for you, like your jacket when you're too hot and don't want to keep it on anymore, your heels when your feet hurt; his big shoes switched with your dainty heels that are a bit too small for his feet, your purse with all your makeup and tissues and glasses and sunscreen and everything you think you need; in his hands the moment you step out the door. and it's not like you have to say anything, he just does it himself first.
let's you raid his place, the spare key, the passcode, his schedule, you know everything and you are always free to show up and use his house however you want to. you can empty the fridge and dirty the kitchen trying to cook, mess up the living room and heeseung would come back and ask you if you had fun, in fact his fridge is filled with things you love and the cabinets are filled with appliances you like to use to experiment the recipes you come up with.
𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐉𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐒𝐄𝐎𝐍𝐆
opens doors and helps you sit first, the car door, the restaurant door, the cafe entrance, your apartment unit door literally every door he possibly can he opens and stands back to let you walk through it first. and then when you reach the table, he's pulling your chair to help you sit first before bringing the drinks you want or the desserts you like or ordering the food. in the car he'll open the passenger door for you, and offer his hand to hold onto while you get inside and then put on your seatbelt for you.
buys you anything you want, that little dress that caught your eye at the mall but they were out of your sizes, the necklace you saw in a tv commercial that you seemed to like a lot, the heels you said looked good on one of the fashion magazine models, it's all in your bedroom in a week. literally any thing that you show interest in, jay makes sure you have it one way or another. asking you to doll up and do a pretty show for him.
takes you out to wherever you want to go to, you have to just mention it even if it's in the passing and jay will take you there as soon as he can. from little dates in a new bakery to destination vacays nothing is impossible when it comes to you. the new restaurant with months long reservation and holiday stops that have all year round bookings everything is at you feet in an instant flick of a finger.
𝐒𝐈𝐌 𝐉𝐀𝐄𝐘𝐔𝐍
gives you piggyback rides whenever you ask for it, when your feet hurt, when your heels break, when you twist your ankle, when you're tipsy, and when you just feel like it, jake is always ready to hold you against his back, arms hooked under your knees, one hand holding your shoes, heels, slippers. and all he asks for you to keep giving him kisses every two seconds to charge his fuel as he races you down the road while you both giggle and laugh.
let's you do anything with him, a wide range of things. experimenting with makeup on him, tying his hair into little ponies, dress him in funky outfits, drag him to little places any time of the day, from cute manga cafes to fancy dinner reservations he has no idea of (but he's paying for it, he swears) he just loves being your boyfriend it doesn't matter what you do.
buys you anything that reminds him of you, he sees a little penguin plushie that looks a little too much like you, he's getting it. he sees a dress he thinks would look way too pretty on you, he's getting it. he finds a cute plant he thinks you'd love to have in your room, he's getting it. he comes across a bunch of fresh flowers he knows you'll be so happy to receive, he's getting it. he finds a lotion that smells like you, he's getting it (for himself lol) and also he'd absolutely buy anything you said you wanted, he'd rather descend to hell than let you buy anything yourself.
𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐍
drives you everywhere, college classes and weekend internship to girls' night out and midnight cravings. he'll put alarms to be right on time to drop you off wherever you'd be going and then later waiting for you outside your university gates, at your workplace, by the night bar to pick you up and get you back home. always waking up at once when you tell me you want to eat something and immediately taking you there in the middle of the night, telling you to sit wherever you want or wait in the car while he gets you your food.
let's you borrow his clothes and accessories, he absolutely hates the idea of his clothes touching someone else skin unless it's you. allows you to just grab anything from his closet you'd like without any need to ask him ever. sometimes he'd even pick something himself and ask you to wear it for him, to cover it with your soft scent. showing off to his friends when he wears that saying my girlfriend wore and it smells like her, pretty right?
takes pictures of you anywhere you go, most of times he'd be tagging along with you with his professional camera he got in a limited edition just to store photos of you. he'd carry it everywhere you go together and click random candids and spontaneous videos. always asking you to pose pretty for him and taking pictures until you're satisfied. later editing it in a long video he plans to surprise you with. a heartfelt video, a look into you through his love filled eyes.
𝐊𝐈𝐌 𝐒𝐄𝐎𝐍𝐖𝐎𝐎
gets you your favorite food and desserts any time of the day, he knows everything you like and he knows when you want it too. always surprising you with it whenever he gets the chance. looking up new places to take you to, exploring all kinds of food and sweets. making special reservations in places famous for dishes that are to your taste. bringing you new baked goodies in the middle of the day or at the break of dawn. plus point if you asked for it he's getting you that within an hour.
makes you special handmade gifts for special occasions, he thinks it carries more meaning if he puts in efforts to prepare something from scratch for you, so that everytime you look at it you think of him. like a little couple bracelet, or custom perfume, or crocheting you a pretty top. and if he bakes something for you he'd always film your reaction eating it, his laughs and giggles recorded along in the background. the special little moments of simple love where you both make each other happy over the tiniest things.
ready to learn anything just to please you, from short time hobbies you pick up like drawing doodles and gardening plants to taking professional classes like pottery and ballet. he'd do just about anything to make you happy, tagging along as company so that you can share even more interests together. he'd also take secret candle making classes when you start getting obsessed with them to make you his own ones. using scents that'll help you feel relaxed.
𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐆 𝐉𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐖𝐎𝐍
brings you flowers and small gifts every week, he needs to see you smile uncontrollably at his actions and what's better than to give his pretty girlfriend receive pretty flowers, always making sure to get a new bouquet before that last one withers. and anything he sees, tiny little small things that remind him of you and that he thinks you'd love he'll buy immediately and show up at your doorstep to give it to you with a short sweet cute handwritten note along with it. sometimes he'd hide it and put directions all around the house for you.
fixes your clothes and helps you put on your shoes, he loves loves and loves being able to be of help to you, fixing the hem of your dress or skirt when it hikes up, tugging the straps of your crop tops and sundresses when they slip off, tying the strings of your backless tops if they come undone. removing your hair out of the way when it gets stuck under your clothes, tucking in your bra straps when they accidentally show, you just gotta doll up and jungwon will make sure you look best. sits you down before going out, getting on his knees to slip on your heels or sneakers himself.
always has a hand on you when you're outside to make sure you're safe, makes sure you're always on the side away from the road, his hands on your waist to hold you in case you'd trip and fall or someone pushes you. hands on your thighs, when you are in some restaurant, or holding your hands even if he's busy talking to someone else around the table. he just loves to hold you. it's become a habit at this point.
𝐍𝐈𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐌𝐔𝐑𝐀 𝐑𝐈𝐊𝐈
buys an extra of things you use a lot, anything that you seem to have a habit of using, he'll look thoroughly and get or order it to keep it with him in a small bag he takes everywhere with you. and when you seem to forget to bring yours, he's pulling it out his pouch and handing it to you. your regular cherry lipgloss or your shea butter lotion or your peach scented handcream, your compact powder, sunscreen stick, aloe wipes, your soft fragrance deo, apple mints you much on and just about everything.
patiently waits for you to get ready, he will wait for a million gazillion years for you, and only you. sitting on your bed or outside your room, either watching you or taking candid pics or just looking through his phone. even if you take an entire hour deciding an outfit he'll sit with a grin and help you choose, telling you his thought on each option. even if you end up wearing something you totally said you wouldn't in the end he's just happy to be of any help.
let's you use his account to play games, his life lies in his game accounts, but if you say you wanna try playing something he'd sit you with him and teach you how to play, encouraging that you're doing so well even if you're making an absolute blunder. if you insist on multiplayer mode he'd definitely let you win, happy to see you happy. and if you mess up something on his account he won't say a word. he can just do it again.
taglist ( open. ) @kangseulgithegreat @s00buwu @luvyev @pockyyasii @nctislifue @ashtxrie @miniature-tragedy @jayujus @brachives @thoughtsmeander2tumblingblindly @eeunoia @nxzz-skz @shawnyle @enhaswirlds @enhasnuggles @potato0579 @enhastolemyheart @belowbun
#enhypen imagines#k-labels#HONESTLY THOUGH I THINK ENHA WOULD TREAT THEIR S/O MORE LIKE QUEEN#enhypen fluff#enhypen headcanons#enhypen reactions#enhypen scenarios#enhypen soft hours#enhypen soft thoughts#enhypen drabbles#enhypen heeseung imagines#enhypen jay imagines#enhypen jake imagines#enhypen sunghoon imagines#enhypen sunoo imagines#enhypen jungwon imagines#enhypen niki imagines#enhypen x you#enhypen x female reader#enhypen x y/n#enhypen x reader
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thinking about ji coming home from the studio hyped as fuck knowing he made another banger and he wants to celebrate but you’re asleep. good thing you told him he can fuck you in your sleep so he does just that. spooning you from behind while he slowly moves in and out and softly caresses your thighs and shoulders so you don’t wake up. hnnng. -💛
they popped the fancy champagne tonight. it was a bottle they had been saving for a special occasion, a gift from someone with more money than they knew what to do with.
the track they’d been working on was far from perfect but it was finished and that was a huge feat in itself. chan, changbin, and jisung had been wrestling with the song for months. they kept pushing it to the back burner, telling themselves they’d save it for the next comeback, the next album, the next single. they would’ve tossed it had all three of them not been convinced it was good. it had the potential to be a title track if they could just figure out what was missing.
well, tonight jisung did just that and they celebrated like one of them had just won the lottery, drinking the sparkling wine out of paper cups from the water dispenser.
“it’s getting late, you should get home if you want to ride that high,” chris advised, giving jisung a knowing look.
the other two producers were well aware of how jisung liked to work off his adrenaline. you called to tell them as much, cursing them out over the phone for making too many good songs because you were tired of waking up sore.
jisung could feel heat creeping up the back of his neck and blossoming on his cheeks but he didn’t try to deny what his leader was implying because they both knew it was true. changbin even threw in an (un)helpful “go easy on her!” as jisung packed his bag and walked out the door, leaving a couple very confused staff members behind.
he was still buzzed when he made it home. he doesn’t drink often so he’s a bit of a lightweight but he stopped in the kitchen and filled a glass with water from the sink in an effort to rehydrate and prevent any hangover symptoms come morning.
the bedroom is dark. the whole house is dark but jisung had been holding out hope that maybe you had just tucked yourself away for the night and were still awake. maybe you were cozy in bed with a book or scrolling through your phone while you waited for him. he had no such luck.
he curses under his breath when he sees you curled up on your side beneath the covers, sighing quietly to himself. you’re even snoring softly. he should’ve asked his driver to go faster… but he didn’t want to stress the guy out. he doesn’t even know how long you’ve been asleep so it might’ve been in vain anyway.
jisung figures he should get ready for bed too so he takes a quick shower and brushes his teeth before slipping back into your room to grab something to sleep in. light from the bathroom spills into the bedroom, illuminating your side of the bed. he couldn’t tell before, but now that he can see you properly he realizes your shoulders are bare.
he blinks a couple of times just to be sure he isn’t seeing things.
jisung is used to you not wearing pants to bed but you usually wear one of his t-shirts because you get kind of cold during the night.
is it possible you’re… completely naked under there? jisung’s dick twitches at the thought.
he’d taken a cold shower in an effort to resolve his… excitement but it didn’t really help. he’s still half-hard and the idea that you’d been waiting for him like this is enough to make even more blood rush to his cock.
he quietly tiptoes over to his own side of the bed where he pulls back the blankets to reveal your sleeping figure.
his breath catches when his suspicions are confirmed. you had in fact, not worn anything to bed.
it had to be a sign, right? you’d talked about it before— several times, actually. your sex drives are pretty equal, which is kind of surprising considering how horny jisung is. but since he’s always working, you don’t get much time to indulge each other in that way. at least, not as much time as you’d like.
a solution you’d offered was sex while one of you was sleeping. jisung immediately agreed to it. he would let you do anything you wanted to him. but he was more hesitant to be the one to initiate when you were sleeping.
he knew it was a fantasy of yours, he knew it was a fantasy of his, it just felt so wrong to take advantage of you when you were unconscious.
but this feels like the perfect opportunity. he was already full of adrenaline and you’re naked in the bed you shared and his cock is starting to ache with how hard he is…
“fuck it.”
he decides against pajamas for the time being and crawls into bed with you. if you’re already naked he might as well be too.
jisung lets out a sigh of relief when you don’t wake up to the movement of the mattress. you shift a bit in your sleep as he gets settled but that’s it.
your warmth draws your boyfriend in, closer and closer until he’s practically spooning you. he’s hardly breathing because he’s scared of waking you up but in order to continue with his plan he has to move you. he starts with a hand on your hip before bringing it down to your knee so that he can part your thighs, pausing when he finds you’re already wet.
fuck, had you fallen asleep touching yourself?
“were your own fingers not enough, baby?” he whispers, condescension dripping from his voice even though you can’t hear a word he’s saying. “don’t worry, i’ll take care of you.”
jisung still wants to make sure you’re stretched enough for him so he slips one finger inside of you, then two. they’re met with little resistance but jisung keeps them in for a little longer, stroking up on that spot that makes you gush.
he works you up but doesn’t push you over the edge because he knows cumming will definitely wake you up. once he’s satisfied with his efforts, he inches even closer to you until his body is flush with yours.
since you fuck in this position all the time, it’s easy for jisung to line himself up and push into you.
he makes a quiet sound of relief when he bottoms out and has to fight the urge to bite and/or kiss your shoulder like he usually would. you let out a little sound of your own and jisung imagines the way your face must be scrunching up as you adjust to the feeling of being full. his hips stutter forward involuntarily at the thought and he freezes… waiting to see if he’s woken you up.
he doesn’t start moving again until your breathing evens out, caressing your thigh with his calloused palm to soothe you as he builds momentum.
it’s a lot slower than the sex you usually have but it’ll definitely be enough for jisung to cum. just the idea of fucking you in your sleep turns him on so much that he’s having trouble holding back even now when he’s barely started.
“so wet for me, baby. need me all the time, huh? even in your dreams.”
“ji?”
fuck, he’d pushed his luck too much with the talking. his mouth was always getting him in trouble.
you try to turn around but jisung holds you in place. “shhh, baby it’s okay. go back to sleep.”
“when did you get home? did you finish the song? ah- what… what are you doing?”
you know what he’s doing, even in your half-awake state. still, you want to hear him say it.
“i’m um… i, do you want me to stop?”
you shake your head and let your eyes fall shut again.
“don’t stop, feels good.”
“thank god,” your boyfriend groans, wrapping his arms around you in a full embrace, relieved that he can touch you as much as he wants to now.
“we finished the song, baby,” he tells you between kisses to your neck. “rushed home to celebrate with you.”
“i’m s-sorry i fell asleep!” you whine.
“nothing to be sorry for, my love. came home and found you all wet and needy… worked out perfectly, wouldn’t you say?”
“i missed you,” is the only response you offer.
“yeah? were you wishing it was me touching you instead of yourself?”
“yes,” you whimper, “couldn’t… couldn’t cum.”
jisung pouts and lets the expression seep into his voice. “poor thing. i bet you were so frustrated.”
“mhm.”
“what about now though, baby? think you can cum for me?”
you nod, almost head butting your boyfriend.
“‘m so close…”
“already?”
“i woke up with your dick inside me, what do you want from me?”
jisung laughs. “sorry, babe. you’re right. should we cum together? do you think you can hold it a little longer?”
“i’ll try,” you promise.
“that’s my girl.”
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"You guys are so lucky."
Ochako takes Izuku by the hand, that sweet, rosy smile filling her cheeks. The whole table whoops and hollers as Izuku brings her hand to his mouth and places a kiss directly on the engagement ring.
"I think we're pretty lucky too," Izuku whispers. Sero gags, finger in his throat, and Denki collapses into giggles. From across the table, Iida joins in, covering his smile with the back of his hand.
Tomorrow night, they'll be married. The ceremony is small, just a handful of friends and family, so most of you here won't be attending. You're fine with that- a couple of fancy cocktails is enough celebration for you.
"High school sweethearts," you sigh, "How romantic. I wish someone liked me in high school."
Sero snorts and Ochako sighs; you immediately know something is up. When you glance around the table, everyone is either avoiding your gaze or sniggering, partaking in some sort of shared secret. Turning to Iida for information, you find that he's the worst of them all, adjusting his glasses over and over again.
"You mean someone else," Denki says after a while.
"What does that mean?"
"It means," Denki jerks his head to the side with a conspiratorial grin, "Iida was rock hard for you all through high school."
The man in question sputters-- hard. Iida chokes on his beer and dissolves into a round of coughs, covering his mouth with the back of his hand as he tries to gather himself again. The rest of the table is a cacophony of sound: Izuku thumping the poor man's back, Sero and Denki are howling with laughter, Ochako scolding the gang. You want to laugh too because the idea feels impossible -Iida, the collected, calm, polite one of the group, certainly couldn't have been 'hard' for you-- but then you see his face.
"I-" Iida's glasses are halfway down is his nose, "That is not--"
"Oh my god, dude-- you're bright red!"
Iida really is scarlet. It runs down to his chest, shirt unbuttoned just enough that you can get a peek. He can't meet your eye, looking up and down aimlessly. You've never seen him like this before-- not with his exes, not with crushes; that makes something inside you flutter.
"Are you guys just teasing me?" You manage to laugh.
"You didn't know?" Izuku asks.
"No!"
"Are you kidding? Everyone else knew. This guy-" Sero pats Iida's broad chest, overly familiar - "Would lament about you all the time. About how you walked, how you dressed-"
"Sero Hanta-" Iida chides.
"-how you rolled your skirt after training," Denki finishes.
"I did not!" Iida quickly defends himself. His hands are wringing around his beer, tracing the same pattern over and over again as he glances around the group. His eyes never make it your way.
"Oh, you kinda did," Ochako cuts in with a giggle.
"Sorry, Iida. You did," Izuku agrees.
"Well, it wasn't- It's not because I thought you were--" he huffs, "The school dress code said skirts had to be past fingertip length, and yours were- You rolled the hem and--"
Iida swallows hard and finally meets your eye. He looks miserable, lips drawn into a straight line.
"Well, I wish you would have told me you liked me-"
"I did not like you."
"I would have rolled my skirts shorter."
The table breaks into laughter again, but Iida just grows pinker.
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When Life Gives Lemons
tw: female reader, technically non con because of stealthing, baby trapping, breeding, obsessive behavior, reader being a bit rude
You couldn’t believe the irony of your life. You were about to break up with your immature boyfriend, and he still managed to be grossly late to the date, unconsciously digging his own grave deeper. You had put on your best white shirt and the tightest skirt you owned, and you even went through the trouble of booking the latest hipster coffee shop close to the centre. He had been fifteen minutes late, to be exact, and when you brought it up, he simply shrugged a long sleazy smile, dragging his skeleton - shaped metal rings against the edge of the table.
“All in due time, princess.” He took a sip off his coffee - a single shot of espresso with no creamer, as always. “All in due time.” He repeated, reaching in his pocket for a pack of off - brand cigarettes. He really couldn’t afford any of the fancy ones. Once the cigarette was lit, he slowly brought it to his lips and inhaled deeply, letting his head relax against the chair. His thick neck tightened as he swallowed the deadly smoke, and even the sun seemed to avoid his messy dark locks, instead keeping the man in the shadows.
“What does that even mean?” You threw your hands around helplessly, sinking into your chair. “Don’t you want to know?” Axel teased, taking another puff. Although his expression was one of mild amusement, his sharp blue eyes were carefully following your every movement - wondering what will tip you off the most. “You know, you’re so fuckin’ hot when you’re mad, mami.” He smiled in a playful boyish way that once would have made you melt, but now only served as a reminder of his unserious nature.
“Stop playing around. I need to discuss something imp–”
“Shhh, don’t talk, babygirl. I need to show you something.” Axel interrupted, gripping the big guitar closer to his lap. ”I wrote you a song.” His thin fingers grazed the delicate transparent strings, forcing a catchy, although not fully polished melody out of the old thing. He took a deep breath, wetting his lips so the lyrics would come out softer.
My girl knows how to set me
on flames she goes through
the motions of the wind she
is a fireball, a fireball, on fire
“What the fuck, Axy.” You pounded your fists at the table, shaking the glasses and spilling coffee all over the wooden surface. You could feel everyone’s judging stare across your back, all of the other patrons were jeering and whispering about the two of you, and your cheeks were heating up by the moment. “I’ve told you countless times to stop writing those shitty songs. They don’t even rhyme, for fuck sake.” You whined, suddenly overwhelmed by helplessness. He was never going to change, was he? “This is exactly why I want to break up.”
The music stopped entirely. His dark sunglasses ended on the ground.
“You wanna break up?” The musician repeated slowly, suddenly appearing awfully composed - so composed it made you look crazy. After that question he remained silent for a very long time, taking long drags off his cigarette while studying your face for any sign of your true feelings bleeding out. “Real’ funny, babe, real’ fun joke.” He forced a crooked smile, reaching in to squeeze your hand all the way through the table. “Now tell me, what’s wrong with the song? I stayed real’ late to compose it just for our date today.” He winked, which only made you feel worse.
“I am being serious, Axel. Let go of me.” Your tone turned icy and your ex boyfriend quickly released you, eyes filling with raw fear. “Wait, baby, we can talk about–”
“There is nothing to talk about. You’re such a child!” You blurted out, too frustrated to spare energy on fluttery words and sweet apologies. “I want to do my masters soon. You know I’m applying to Metwyorth - I can’t be seen hanging around with a high school dropout who does Saturday gigs for a living.” You continued, pursing your lips together. You knew you were being harsh, cruel even, but this was the only way to push him away. The musician could be awfully clingy, so you needed to be firm.
“A highschool dropout who made you scream your brains out.” Axel responded bitterly through clenched teeth, eyes growing dark with anger. You shook your head bashfully, avoiding his fiery gaze. “Sure, we had our fun,” You gestured vaguely at nothing in particular, trying to hide the shame blossoming on your sides. “But it’s time to wake up. I mean, be realistic. We live in different worlds.” You began to collect your things quickly, standing up to leave.
“Y/N!” He called out to you, causing you to turn back just for a second - you owed him that much for all the good memories you knew you both would have trouble forgetting. “You’re making a mistake. Please, think it through.” The man took a hold of your hand, caressing your fingers gently. “I know I can’t offer you much right now, but I really love you!” His eyes dilated, honest and clear like an untouched sea on a quiet day.
“Goodbye, Axel.”
***
You meet him sooner that you’d like.
Two weeks later you’re drunk off your mind, dancing the night away with some of your girlfriends when you catch a pair of familiar eyes fluttering across your body from the other side of the room. It makes you feel hot all over - despite what you said back then, you felt each agonising moment of the break up. Even if the logical part of your brain knows you have no future with such a man, your body needs him, craves him.
Axel keeps staring at you intensely, burning holes through your neck, your thighs, your lips. His yearning gaze lingers, completely miserable, and yet as lustful as the night he first wrapped his arms around you and claimed you as his. He can still feel your nails scratching his back red and bloody, sending shivers down his spine and setting fire in his loins. This staring game of yours lasts for approximately thirty minutes before he gives in and comes over to your table. He doesn’t say anything - doesn’t look at you or greet your friends, doesn’t even pretend to have any reason to approach you. He simply grabs you, swallows an airy pant, and drags you inside the bathroom.
You’re all over each other in no time. His hands are tangled in your hair and your nails are sinking into his warm flesh once again. You can’t breathe for a second, suffocated by a deep, longing kiss that he only spares you of once your lips start to turn blue. He licks your neck and bites at any spot vulnerable enough to steal a gasp out of you - and you return it by sucking on his collarbone until a purple hickey adorns his skin. You swiftly unzip his loose pants and start taking your dress off, but as you try to spread your legs, he turns you around facing the wall.
“Fuck, I wanna do you from the back, princess.” Axel mumbles, one strong hand gripping your throat as the other gropes your breasts freely. You nod weakly, too turned on to comprehend any of the words he’s saying. “Ngh, wanna be able to pull your hair n’ shit.” His fist wraps around your ponytail, pulling slightly so you expose your neck to his teeth. You can already feel his throbbing manhood prob at your thighs, slowly moving towards your entrance. “Y-you have a condom on, right?” You manage to whimper through the little electric bursts of pleasure running through your whole body as he plays you like an instrument. He mumbles something like “yeah”, and in this state of mind that’s enough for you.
He starts sinking into your heat slowly, letting you adjust to his hard length inch by inch, then once you’ve settled, practically begging him to just give it to you, he begins thrusting painfully slow - really making you feel it going in and out, in and out in a perfect rhythm. Each time his cock brushes against your most sensitive spot, you’re reduced to a slick, desperate mess, but just as your thighs begin to go numb and you slip down, Axel catches both of your wrists and pins them to the wall, keeping you in place. You’re so wet you can hear the slap of skin on skin every time your gummy walls hug his member, but you’re too far gone to care about the nasty sound.
“F-fuck, baby, you’d be so fucking hot as a mother. Have you ever thought about it?” Your ex whispers against you, picking up the pace. You shake your head - kids have never been your priority, since you’re still so young and your education would always come first. “I thought about it. A lot, ‘n fact, when we were separated.” His heartbeat fastens. “Ugh, you’re still so tight, god…” His free hand dances at your hips, ogling and caressing any curve it can find. “When you dumped me, I was completely lost, ya know? Didn’t sober up for three days. But then I dreamt that I knocked you up accidentally. S-shit, did you just tighten up?”
Your whole body stiffens at his words. Your stomach fills with unexplainable dread - this whole conversation is turning you off, but somehow your body seems to have a mind of its own.
“Q-quit it with the small talk, asshole.” You groan, pushing back so you’d get more friction between your legs. “Just fuck me, okay? I don’t need to hear your weird fantasies.” You hear yourself saying confidently despite the provocative position you’re currently stuck in - you can’t even see his face, but you know he’s probably laughing at your bossy comment. But instead he keeps blabbering on as if you’re not even there. “You were so beautiful, princess. So big and–” He bites his lower lip. “So fucking needy for me - just like now. You were dripping everywhere. You were so excited for our little baby.” He grunted hoarsely, reaching in to stroke your clit - and despite your best efforts, you let out a soft moan.
“And we were a family - just you, n-ngh, me and the little guy.” Axel utters through clenched teeth, trying to hold out for as long as possible - savouring you in tiny little bites. “No stupid degrees or anythin’, just us two against the world.” He slows down further, now barely moving inside of you. It’s driving you crazy with anticipation - both his story and the way he’s fucking you. “And it made me think, we could really have all that - if it wasn’t for your stupid pride. All I need to do is knock you up. Just think about it.” The man grips your hips roughly, impaling you on his thickness.
“Your tits will swell, your thighs will thicken; you’ll be so tired you’ll have to lay down all the time. You won’t even be able to touch yourself because of your belly.” He smiles at you gently, although you can’t see it. At this point you’re already so close to climax you can’t break through the cotton cloud haze that’s taken over your mind to truly focus. This is one of the reasons you had to break up with the musician - he could get you cockdrunk with a simple touch, and that vulnerability felt terrifying.
“And I will take care of you through every-” He kisses your cheek. “single–” He kisses you again. “step of the way.” He inhales deeply, thrusting in one final time before he spills inside you. “I love you, baby. I really can’t let you go.”
#yandere#yancore#male yandere#male yandere x reader#yandere smut#yandere oneshot#yandere x you#yandere male x reader#yandere oc#yandere oc x reader
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𝜗𝜚 𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐀𝐈𝐃 𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓𝐒 𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐃 𝐌𝐄
🐰ྀི₊˚⊹ he said, "baby, " that's what he called me, "i love you" every single word you say makes me feel some type of way, it's the thought of you that slightly scares me but it takes my breath away, forget what I was gonna say
𝜗𝜚… summary , ( f!y/n x oscar piastri ) oscar’s plans for a date for him and his girlfriend after feeling bad for being busy all week, but ignoring how tired he’d been turns out to not be the best idea.
𝜗𝜚… faceclaim , up to your imagination <3
𝜗𝜚… triggers , swearing , anxiety
𝜗𝜚… authors note , I was really proud of this!!! hope you like it it had a plot and I sorta lost it while writing it but thats okay, my next fic is gonna be an smau I have an idea planned out
🐰ྀི₊˚⊹ masterlist
It’d been a busy week for Oscar, almost the start of the season and he’d missed the feeling of winter break already. He loved his career, most didn’t get to say that but there was a sort of weight off his shoulders when the last race ended, a certain peace in the air that put him at ease.
Currently, the ease had subsided and the stress was catching once again in his throat, and his schedule had started to fill up. He knew he had to make time this year not just for himself, he’d recently gotten a girlfriend right before the end of the race last season.
She’s everything he’s ever wanted, he’s never met someone who’s understood him so much until he met her. Oscar felt a nervousness in his heart, what if he couldn’t make time for her? What if she’d validly lose interest with him not around?
He’d been reassured plenty of times by her, even without sharing his thoughts. She just knew. God, Oscar couldn’t even put into words how perfect she’d been for him.
Towards the end of his week, they’d planned to go on a date. Oscar had felt guilty after not properly going out in a while, not that she minded they were both homebodies anyway.
Setting the reservation for the restaurant days in advance that he’d known she liked was easy, picking out the right outfit a few hours before he had to pick her up was not.
This all felt silly to him. Never in his life had he’d cared so much about what he wore. Christ, he wore the same Mclaren polo in the paddock practically every race weekend.
Scouring his limited closet for the right shirt and pants proved harder than he thought. He’d tried a nice t-shirt and jeans, too casual. Maybe not a tux either, too fancy. He’d finally settled on a white button up with the top three buttons unbuttoned, and a pair of khaki shorts. And feeling somewhat satisfied with his choice he put on some cologne, and ran a hand through his hair.
This might as well have been a first date the way the Aussie was stressing. Tapping a finger on the steering wheel as he drove, running many hands through his hair. Both tell-tales of his nervousness.
Tall glass doors filled his vision as he reached her apartment building. Tapping twelve on the elevator and tapping his foot as he waited. The silence of the confined space was so loud, nerves rising in his chest. Oscar felt stupid. He had no need to be this nervous. No need at all. She was just so her, so perfect and the exact image of someone he’d imagined his life with. He doesn’t know what he did to deserve her.
Once the elevator doors had opened with a small beep, he’d walked out and the hallway seemed hauntingly long with her door at the end of it. This was all muscle memory to him, he could’ve come here with his eyes closed if he wanted, though he might’ve gotten some weird looks and a potential car accident.
He’d rung her doorbell, folding his hands neatly and awkwardly behind his back as she waited. “Coming!” A soft voice shouted on the other side of the door. Oscar smiled to himself.
For the first time since he started getting ready he’d checked his phone, and sighed. He had been almost an hour early then when he said he’d be picking her up. Now suddenly the feeling of him intruding on her crowded his thoughts.
They faded away the minute she opened the door and her eyes lit up. Y/n’s hair had been curled but was obviously not styled yet, she wore pajama shorts and a t-shirt and looked halfway done with her make-up.
“I’m early, I think,” His nose scrunched as he spoke.
She shook her head, lips in a small friendly pout. And gestured for him to walk inside. Once he’d taken a step closer into the apartment she’d pulled him into a hug, standing on her tippy-toes and her arms around his neck. “I missed you.” The girl whispered into his ear sending shivers down his spine.
Oscar’s arms fit snugly around her waist pulling her close, his face buried in her neck smelling the floral scent of her body wash.
He hadn’t realized how tired this week had truly made him till he’d fallen into her touch. The coziness of her presence made him notice how much he actually needed this, how much he’d been needing her.
Pulling away from his tight grasp she looked up at him in a way that made him wanna melt into her all over again. Y/n’s hand slowly moved up from his neck tracing the light stubble along his chin before holding his face in her hand, he swore she would be the death of him.
“You look handsome.” She commented with a hint of surprise in her voice and a furrow of her eye brow as she scanned his outfit.
A small pink rose to his cheeks but a sarcastic comment rose in his throat, “do I usually not?”
Her head shook, “No you do, even in the same Mclaren polo and unbrushed hair.”
Oscar’s head looked down at the floor slightly embarrassed with a huge grin spread across his face. Using her hand once again she tilted his head to look at her, their eyes meeting. “I gotta finish getting ready but the tv’s on in the living room.” She said, placing a quick peck on his lips before walking off to the bathroom, having no idea the effect she had on him.
He paused standing there in the hallway, he wasn’t sure what it was about her that had such an impact on him. It might’ve been her bubbliness, how she radiated positivity, or just the fact she knew him, like truly knew him.
Every time she’d walked away from him, Oscar missed her presence like he hadn’t seen her in years. He never imagined himself being clingy but it was like with her he couldn’t stay away. Y/n had been his second home.
The brunette boy took a seat on the couch sinking into it, the t.v. played some random sitcom the volume low. The exhaustion he’d been pushing back for the whole week had broken through a dam and flooded back into him the moment he took a seat. It didn’t help that her home was the exact definition of cozy. A candle burned filling the apartment with the smell of fall, she’d refused to use the overhead lighting opting for smaller lamps and other lights.
Oscar could’ve slept three days here if he was allowed, preferably with her near him. Subconsciously he rested his head on a nearby pillow at the end of the couch lifting his legs up (them partially going off the couch). And his eyes seemed to drift closed.
The scent of cinnamon filled his nose as his eyes fluttered open. He made a confused groaning noise stretching his back and arms out because despite the couch being fairly comfortable it wasn’t exactly made for his height. He sat up taking off a blanket that was placed across him that he didn’t remember putting on.
It’d taken him a moment but not long to remember where he was but more importantly what plans they had. Panic seeped through him and he jumped up looking to the bathroom, the door was now opened and the light had been turned off. “Fuck.” He whispered under his breath, guilt filling his pores.
Oscar ended up in the kitchen where Y/n sat on the counter, legs criss-crossed watching something on her laptop. She’d put her hair up and had been in her pajamas like she was before her make-up removed as well. Looking at the time on the stove, Oscar cursed himself he’d slept right through their reservation.
God, he wished hadn’t ignored how drained he was like he did. Now she’d noticed him and paused what she was watching looking at him with a soft smile. The smile hadn’t warmed his heart like previously, he couldn’t put into words how horrible he’d felt.
Taking steps closer to her, ending up standing in front of where she was sitting, her legs uncrossing and he stood in between them. “I’m so so sorry, I feel horrible right now.” He admitted, not wanting to meet her eyes.
“It’s okay, we all need breaks sometimes, you’ve been busy.” He didn’t deserve her. Oddly he felt like her yelling at him would’ve been better than this. She’d been such an angel and he broke the one promise he’d made all week.
Oscar shook his head, “Sweetheart, It’s not okay I told you we’d do something special and I fucked it.” He looked at the granite next to her leg not wanting to meet her eyes still.
A soft light hand placed itself on his chin and pushed him to face her. Her eyes were comforting like a warm blanket of kindness. “You did, but it's okay.”
He had so many apologies in his throat so many words he could say but only the simplest ones came out. “I’m so sorry again-” He was suddenly distracted by the sudden scent of cinnamon once again. “What are you making?”
“Well right now dessert but I need help with dinner.” She admitted and he wrapped his arms around her torso and her around his neck once again except he was the one looking up at her.
Oscar furrowed an eyebrow. “Is that not the wrong order?”
“Oh shut it, you’re in no place to make jabs right now.” She joked with a fake roll of her eyes.
“How about I make dinner for you?” He offered lightly running his hands up and down her back.
Her facial expression showed her contemplating it. “Do I trust your cooking?”
Oscar was now the one to roll his eyes. “Do I trust yours?” He commented.
Y/n lightly hit his shoulder gasping. “You’re very rude, Oscar, don’t you know that?”
“Oh am I?” His hands moved from her back to her waist once more.
“Mhm.”
He carried her off the counter as she wrapped her legs around his torso and she started laughing, a sound Oscar wished he could hear on repeat forever. His hand resting on her butt holding her up. He placed a light kiss on her lips, more intimate than the quick peck from earlier. He pulled away but their faces were still inches apart.
“So can I make you dinner?” He asked again in a whisper.
Her eyes tilted up dramatically thinking about it, “Only because I don't feel like it.”
She placed another quick peck on his lips and Oscar pulled her back in for a deeper one, and he swore no matter how long they knew each other he’d never get over this feeling.
𝜗𝜚… tags , @whitcferrari @cedarbcws @c-losur3
#𝜗𝜚˖ ࣪₊˚ soamericns works!#formula 1#f1#writers on tumblr#oscar piastri#op81#oscar piastri x reader#oscar piastri fanfic#oscar piastri fluff#oscar piastri imagine#mclaren#f1 fanfic#f1 fic#formula one x y/n#formula one x reader#formula one fic#f1 imagine#fanfic#fluff#imagine#one shot#formula one
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Dinner Date
For STWG daily drabble and, more importantly, for Goldie @steventhusiast. Happy Birthday, you deserve the world. I know you’re asleep right now, but it’s technically still your bday here.
“Dingus, this is a really fancy restaurant.” Robin leans back in her chair, but her hand plays with the fork on her napkin.
Steve sips his wine; some of it tips over the edge onto the tablecloth. “What? Can’t a guy take his best friend out to a fancy dinner?” He tilts his head and takes in his best friend. What was once an awkward teen now had a beautiful, but still awkward, woman in her place.
“Steve, I love our friend dates, but usually they take place in a greasy diner or dollar pizza.” Robin picks the fork up and starts twirling it into her napkin. Steve watches her get mesmerized by the wrinkles that wrapped around the silverware, even though they both know the napkin should be in her lap by now.
Steve smiles softly, moves his napkin from his lap to the table, and begins to mimic Robin. “Okay, maybe I wanted it to be a special occasion.”
Robin giggles at Steve's poor fork-twirling form and leans over the table to fix it for him. “All occasions are special when we are together, so that doesn’t really mean much.” Robin’s nose scrunches in concentration as she gently guides Steve’s hand. She has done this plenty of times before, guiding Steve where he needed to be. Like taking him to the bookstore near her college so he wouldn’t have to go into sex with Eddie blind, or when she taught him how to whisk eggs properly. Both are equally important skills he now uses in his everyday life. “But you seemed nervous. You keep sipping your wine, and I know for a fact that you hate dry wine.”
Steve puts down the glass that was halfway to his mouth, “It’s not my fault Moscato tastes like candy!”
Robin snorts, “Seriously, Dingus. It’s just me. What’s up?”
Steve puts down the fork and his glass and looks Robin in the eye. “I wanted to ask you to be my best man.”
Steve expects a lot of reactions out of her: excitement, an eye roll, hell, even straight-up rejection. Maybe a little speech about how weddings for them aren’t even legal. Instead, a look of betrayal crosses her face. “You asked Eddie to marry you, and you didn’t even tell me you were proposing?”
Immediately, Steve clenches his stomach in outrageous laughter, nearly having to bend over the table. Steve tries to take Robin seriously; he really does. But she is supposed to be the smart one out of the two of them.
Rage takes over Robin completely as she reaches over the table to start slapping Steve’s arm. “Don’t laugh, you asshat! I am actually mad at you!”
“Ow—” Steve laughs. “Ow, Robin!” Another giggle escapes him as he gets her to sit back in her chair. “I’m laughing because, of course, I didn’t propose to Eddie without talking to you first.”
Robin settles a bit at this, “I’m confused.”
Steve reaches for her hand across the table; Robin doesn’t hesitate to wrap her fingers around his. “I’m asking you to be my Best Man first, doofus. Before I even pick out the damn ring. Which I definitely need you to steal one of Eddie’s rings for me so I can get the size; man watches those things like a hawk.”
Robin squeezes his hand, “Wait, why would you ask me that first? Isn’t that kind of backwards.”
“I do everything kind of backwards, babe. Kinda the Steve Harrington special.” Steve rubs a thumb against the back of soulmate's hand. “Of course, I ask you about being my best man first. There would be no wedding without you, so if you say no, there would be no proposing.”
Steve could see tears beginning to fill Robin’s eyes, “What are you saying?”
“Whoever gets stuck with me gets stuck with you. We’re a package deal, babe.”
Robin throws herself across the table, knocking the wine everywhere. Steve laughs and clenches her tightly. “Of course, I’ll be your best man! Someone’s gotta make sure you don’t hurt yourself going down the aisle.” She sobs.
Steve’s throat gets thick, “Pretty sure that’s the father's job, Robs. And you’d have to fight Jim for that role.”
“Fine.” Robin sniffs, leaning back to look him in the eye. “But I get stand by your side as you make a complete fool of yourself with your vows.”
“Deal.”
Robin leans forward, placing her forehead against Steve’s. “You and me against the world, babe.”
Steve hugs her tight, “You and me against the world.”
#stobin#steddie#steve and robin both call eachother babe#its canon#i dont make the rules#happy birthday gold!!!!#i asked them what they like in stranger things fic#and they said stobin with a side of steddie#so bet say less you got it hon#steven harrington#robin buckley#platonic soulmates stobin#my writing#platonic stobin
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idea! mutual pining bau!fem!reader and hotch where they’re at a holiday fbi gala thing, all dressed up pretty & fancy. but, oh no! her shoe slipped off under the table and she can’t get it! so hotch does and goes to put it back on her foot all gentlemanly and notices her stockings 😳
the stockings in question: tumblr com/7eyrani/726521459458097152
Morgan is asking for the kick that you deliver to his shin, you think. Sometimes he needs to be humbled, and the toe of your pointed high heel is exactly what he deserves.
"Ow!" He hisses, playing up his dramatics as he rubs the sore spot through his dress pants, "Y/L/N, you don't need to carry a gun on the job, just nail someone with one of those shoes."
You want to triumphantly celebrate your victory, but you can't. Upon contact with Derek's calf, too muscled and stiff - seriously, what did he need all of that definition for? - your shoe had come loose from your heel, and it clatters to the ground somewhere beneath the table.
"Shit," You grumble, "Does anyone feel my shoe on the floor?"
Derek snickers, "Karma's a bitch."
"So am I." You narrow your eyes at him, "Just wait until I get it back, Morgan, I'll aim for the jugular."
"Okay! Okay," He holds his hands up in surrender, reaching for his glass moments later to fill his mouth with water instead of playful banter that you can't handle right now.
"It's here," Aaron calls from two seats left of Derek, "Y/L/N, stay in your seat, your dress is cut too low for you to bend down."
He's right. If you take the shoe from him and hunch over to fit it back over your foot, you might just spill out of the neckline of the gown you're wearing. It's with warm cheeks and a sheepish nod that you let Aaron duck beneath the table, reaching across Prentiss to take your stocking-clad foot into his hands.
He's astoundingly gentle as he grips your ankle, angling the shoe over your foot and securing it tightly against your heel. It's a delicate touch and he's nothing but gentlemanly, that is, until you set your foot back down on the floor, and your dress rides up your thigh, revealing the rather raunchy pattern of the hem on your stockings.
The silverware jumps on the table as Aaron's head collides harshly with the underside. Alarm paints itself over your colleagues' faces, and yours only gets warmer as Aaron emerges from the table, mind fresh with the scene of two people intertwined in a passionate embrace.
His eyes meet yours immediately, and you wish you could look away to save yourself the embarrassment. But you can't, and his eyes bore into your own, dark and slightly wider than usual. You're being ogled by every member of your team and you're barely able to muster a mumbled, 'Thank you.'
He's probably speaking about your shoe mishap, but when he says 'anytime' in that deep, smooth voice of his, you hope he's talking about your stockings.
#aaron hotchner x reader#aaron hotchner imagine#aaron hotchner scenario#aaron hotchner oneshot#aaron hotchner one-shot#aaron hotchner one shot#aaron hotchner headcanon#aaron hotchner headcanons#aaron hotchner hc#aaron hotchner hcs#aaron hotchner fanfiction#aaron hotchner fanfic#aaron hotchner fic#aaron hotchner blurb#aaron hotchner drabble#aaron hotchner dialogue#aaron hotchner fluff#aaron hotchner x reader fanfiction
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˗ˏˋ𝐇𝐀𝐕𝐄 𝐀 𝐓𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄 ˎˊ˗
bar-back e.m. x fem reader
blurb request: barback!eddie who let’s you try his newest concoctions on the house🤭 by @bcyhoods
authors note: thank you for participating in my little celebration and sending in your request(s), love. This was such a fun one to write and totally got away from me. Anyway, hope you like! <3
✷ ALL OF MY WORKS ARE 18+
A fog of smoke greets you as you walk through the double doors of the hideout, some run down dive bar in the middle of bum fuck nowhere, surrounded by cows and cornfields. You can’t help but grimace as each step you take is met with sticky resistance under the soles of your brand new loafers.
You take a seat at the bar, running your fingers over the skirt of your dress while you wait for the bartender to notice you and while you do, you take in every inch of him; in his black leather jacket, long brown waves and rings galore. He’s not like anything you’d ever seen outside of an MTV music video.
You’d spent your whole life around preppy assholes who thought polos and boat shoes were cool. They’d never be caught dead in that bad boy attire or much less in a sketchy place like this. That thought made your heart race with excitement, you set your sights on him and prayed your sweet charm and flirty banter would work in your favor.
“Uh, what can I get ya, sweetheart?” The smoothness of his voice instantly makes you want to clench your thighs, but you decide against it as your eyes meet his.
“Mmm, got anything sweet?” You ask with a flirty smile, you don’t want to lay it on thick too soon, just little by little for now.
“Sure, I can whip somethin’ up for you.” He says proudly, bending down to grab a whisky glass and a bottle of some fruity liquor. “Sorry, we don’t have anythin’ more fancy, we really only get beer and whisky orders here, if you can believe it.” He says sarcastically as he looks around the smoke filled bar, met with older working men and bikers who were, to no surprise holding an aforementioned beer or whisky.
“It’s fine.” You say, waving off his apology with a small swat to the smoky air. “So… aren’t you a little young to be bartending?” You ask curiously, also as an attempt to keep the conversation flowing.
“Ah, well you’d be right. I’m not quite a bartender yet, more of a bartenders assistant if you will. But…” he looks around with dramatic flare, making you giggle. “She’s not around at the moment, so looks like you’re stuck with me, princess.” The pet name sends a thrilling swoop straight to your stomach.
“Maybe I wanna be stuck with you.” The words are out of your mouth before you have a chance to fully process them and you immediately want nothing more than to swallow them back down. Your face heats up with humiliation when he raises an eyebrow that gets lost somewhere underneath his shaggy bangs.
He doesn’t even acknowledge your little slip up, instead he shakes his head as a smirk forms on his pretty lips, all the while pouring some red liquor and pineapple juice concoction into your glass. You both let the awkward silence flow around you, although the bar is anything but silent.
“So, tell me what ya’ think?” He beams, scooting the half filled glass closer towards you. The silver of his rings glint off of the yellow lighting and you can’t help but want to do some very shameful things to those fingers while he’s wearing those rings.
After the third concoction of his amazing fruity cocktails, you begin feeling that familiar burn in your chest. You’re nowhere near drunk just feeling loose, which was never good for the people around you.
“So, why haven’t I ever seen you around?” The metalhead asks as he takes a seat next to you at the bar, the bartender had since come back and told him he was off the hook for the rest of the night.
“Well, I was on my way to Loch Nora to visit family…but, well I got a flat and pulled into the parking lot and thought why the hell not? I could use a drink before I go see my uptight aunt and asshole cousin.” You ramble, before stopping yourself with another sip of your coconut cocktail.
“Uptight and asshole seems to be the theme in this shit town.” Eddie chuckles as he watches you between sips of his cheap beer.
“Uptight and asshole also seems to be the theme in my family.” You quip back with a small smile.
“Well I don’t know about uptight but asshole is definitely the theme in mine.” He smirks as he playfully pushes into you with his leather clad shoulder.
“Yeah, well you haven’t met assholes until you met the Harringtons.” You say back with a playful push of your own.
“Harrington? As in S-Steve Harrington?” He stammers, turning towards you in his bar stool as his eyes bore into yours, awaiting your answer.
“Oh, so you’re acquainted with king asshole?” A smile radiates across your face that makes Eddie noticeably gulp.
“Y-yeah, I guess you could say that. But, yeesh I think you might have me beat, sweetheart.” His laugh is boisterous and loud over whatever metal song is playing through the old speakers.
“Tell ya what, how bout I call you a tow truck and cab…and uh, these drinks are on the house since you were nice enough to be my taste tester.” The look on his face tells you he’s anything but ready to see you go. So of course, in your loose as a goose but extremely coherent state, you say something you never would’ve just an hour ago.
“Well, since you gave me something to taste, it’s only right if I do the same, no?” You throw in a flirty wink in a desperate plea to stick the landing of your intended innuendo.
What you didn’t realize was that he was in the midst of taking a sip of his beer and once those words slipped past your lips he immediately went into a violent coughing attack, his eyes wide as if in complete and utter disbelief while you swat at his back, trying to help him catch his breath.
Once his coughing died down, his eyes met yours again and the apples of cheeks bloomed a pretty pink, embarrassment clearly overtaking him.
“W-were you serious?” He asks, as if he was contemplating your proposal and that had the thrilling swoop vehemently returning to your stomach but now it traveled down towards your core as you clenched around nothing.
“Very.” Is all you say, but your eyebrow lifts in question before you begin to stand from your barstool.
Your hips sway seductively as you make your way to the dingy bathrooms, a smile overtaking your futures when you hear sneakers squeak behind you. You push the door open and are immediately met with graffiti riddled walls; it’s filthy, disgusting and so fucking thrilling!
You hear the door shut and lock behind you, and when you slowly turn you’re met with those warm brown eyes that you’ve been fawning over all night.
You don’t say another word, instead you take a few calculated steps over towards him before pushing him up against the graffitied door and smashing your lips into his, in an intense and desperate kiss. He moans into your mouth when your tongue sloppily glides against his, the kiss is all consuming and has you weak in the knees.
His lips pull away and you chase them with a whimper that has him smirking down at you with a cock sure grin.
“Up on the counter, princess. I want that taste you promised me.”
✷ LIKES, COMMENTS AND REBLOGS ARE SO APPRECIATED, LIKE YOU’D SERIOUSLY MAKE MY DAY (:
#— 𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐈 𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐒#eddie munson#eddie munson imagine#eddie munson x y/n#eddie munson fanfic#eddie munson x you#eddie munson smut#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson fic#eddie munson x female reader
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romance tropes i associate w/ ateez:
this is not proofread or formatted because i was supposed to start getting ready to leave my apartment half an hour ago and now i’m rushing lmaooo. i’ll proofread and format it when i get back from the knocked loose gig 🫶
seonghwa -bridesmaid and bestman
it’s your sisters wedding and everything is going great, except for the fact that you haven’t spoken to a single person for the past 45 minutes
you can’t help but feel a little lonely as you sit in the corner and bulldoze your way through the bottle of wine you’ve been left alone with
and then you feel a soft tap on your shoulder, and the familiar sound of a chair being dragged against the wooden floor rings through the room
you spin around just in time to see the groom’s best friend sitting down beside you, empty wine glass in hand
“nice ceremony, wasn’t it?” he says as he grabs the wine bottle and begins to pour himself a generous helping
you hum in response as you tilt your own glass towards him - he takes the hint and fills it for you
“my sister looks so pretty,” you say, and the man in front of you nods along
“not as pretty as the maid of honour, though,” he responds, “i couldn’t quite believe it when i spotted her all alone in the corner with no one taking care of her.”
you giggle in response to his obvious flirting - two can play at that game
“so you decided to come and snatch me up for yourself, did you?”
he nods with a straight face, but you can see the teasing glint in his eye
“of course,” he responds, “i’m not leaving your side until i’ve either got a dance from you, or i have your number in my phone.”
he smiles wide at you, and you can’t help but smile back
“well you’re handsome enough for me to consider giving you both,” he chuckles at your words, “but the question is which one do you want first?”
he offers you his hand
“i think i’ll take the dance.”
hongjoong - blind date
it seems your mum has finally grown fed up of you showing up to every family event empty handed
which is precisely how you end up standing outside one of the most notoriously expensive restaurants in your neighbourhood
it’s where your blind date suggested, and despite your incessant denial, your mother had accepted on your behalf
you walk inside, a sour look on your face as the host steps forward to ask for your reservation
“i think his name was hongjoong?” you sigh, “he told me to meet him here at 8 for a blind date…”
the woman’s eyes go wide and she smiles at you, the words ‘lucky bitch’ falling from her tongue before she can even stop them
“hardly,” you respond as she guides you through the fancy place, “i don’t even want to be here…”
your voice trails off as she slows down and stops at a table with a man already seated on one of the chairs
you thank the woman as you sit down; she sends you a quick wink in return before darting off to no doubt gossip with the other staff members
and then you turn your attention to the man before you to see he’s already looking at you with wide eyes
“you’re my date?” he asks, to which you nod in response, “shit! when my friend set this up i wasn’t expecting someone so pretty.”
your face heats up at his compliment
“oh, uh, thank you,” you stutter out, “likewise, i guess. my mum organised it on my behalf; i thought it would be some stiff-necked guy that thinks too highly of himself.”
“you’re happy with me, then?” he smiles
“very happy…”
yunho - brothers best friend
“i don’t care that he’s here, i’m just asking why?” you whisper to your mum as you watch yunho and your brother mess around in the pool
it’s spring break, and whilst you certainly don’t mind the addition of the tall dancer, you hadn’t been allowed to bring a friend of your own
“it was last minute honey,” you mum replies, “his parents are half-way through a divorce and i wanted to help take his mind off of it!”
you suppose that’s as good of a reason as any, but that still feel cheated
suddenly you hear a yell from the water, and a whole load of splashing; you turn your attention to the pool to see yunho swimming to your brother who has a hand covering his nose
“nosebleed?” your mum called over to the boys; they nod, “i know where the first aid kit is. come on!”
your brother climbs out of the pool and follows your mum inside, leaving the pool area in an awkward silence
“you know you’re never going to get a tan sitting in the shake like that,” yunho breaks it with a laugh, “you should move to this subbed over here.”
you quirk your brow at him as you see him point to the one right by the pool
“you mean the one that gives you access to stare at me?”
he shrugs, “i’m just looking out for you, kiddo.”
you scoff at the nickname; he’s always called you that despite the age gap being almost non-existent
“don’t call me that when you’re flirting with me, yun.”
“why?” he says with a smirk, “would you rather i called you baby?”
yeosang - soulmates
it had been a slow morning in the cafe, which isn’t necessarily unusual, but it had given you a lot of time to think about your soulmate mark which is burning where it sits on your wrist
KYS, it reads, which you would find funny if it was scrawled on someone else’s wrist
the subreddit you’d spent most of your morning surreptitiously scrolling through says it means you’ll meet your soulmate soon
you’ll believe that when you see it…
“‘scuse me?” a voice rips you out of your mindless doomscrolling and you quickly put a smile on your face and look up at the man at the counter
your sure your smile looks more like a grimace with how bad the mark has started burning on your wrist
“welcome,” you stutter out, “what can i get for you?”
he studies the menu which gives you the perfect opportunity to study the pretty man in front of you
you can’t help but notice his hand gripping at his opposite wrist in the exact same place your own soul mark it hurting
“an americano,” he eventually stutters out, “iced and medium, please.”
you nod, grabbing a cup and a marker pen, “can i take a name?”
“yeosang,” he replies and your soul mark burns even more, “but you can just write KYS if it’s easier.”
you pause for a second; was the subreddit right?
“KYS?” you mutter to yourself, “this sounds crazy, but can i show you something?”
he shrugs and you take it as an ‘okay’, so you tug up your sleeve to reveal the three letters on your arm
san - strangers-to-lovers
the gym, also known as your own personal hell; it’s funny that you’ve somehow ended up there in a saturday morning
you’re not even sure how in all honesty, and as you stare into the vast space filled with nothing but men and metal, you feel a little intimidated
still, it’s too late to turn back now so you take a few unsure steps into the room, halting at a piece of equipment that looks more like a torture device
“how the-” you mutter to yourself, but get cut off when a tall man walks up beside you
“are you using this thing?” he asks, and you turn your attention to him, “it’s just its next in my routine, but i don’t mind waiting if you’re already using it.”
you shake your head as you stare at him, feeling a little more than slightly intimidated
he’s tall, buff and hot, not to mention that he clearly knows what he’s doing in the gym
“you can go,” you stutter, “i, uh, i’m not too sure how to use it myself; i’m new to all this.”
his face light up at your confession, the stoic expression melting into something sweeter, more excited
“you’re serious?” he beams at you, “that’s so cool! i’m proud of you for starting your gym journey.”
you shrug, not really knowing how to reply; the man seems to have no issue carrying on the conversation for you, though
“my names san,” he sticks out a hand which you take out of politeness, “if you want you can take my number; i’m here most days so if you ever want someone to work out with…”
you think it over for a few seconds before deciding ‘what the hell?’ the man is attractive and seems genuinely enthusiastic to get to know you
might as well get something positive out of this whole gym thing, right?
mingi - fake boyfriend
you’d always spend winter break alone, which was never a pleasant thing when spending the season with your family
this year, however, you decided things would be different
it turns out a friend of a friend wasn’t actually going home for the holidays
and with the promise of free food he was actually pretty easy to convince to be your pretend boyfriend for the season
you spent days upon days creating some sort of believable story to tell your family, as well as learning everything there is to know about eachother
the plan was seamless, and on your first evening in your family home, the two of you had done a spectacular job at convincing your entire family
but there was just one little detail the two of you hadn’t foreseen, and now as you stand in your room it finally sinks in
“i can sleep on the floor,” you suggest, “you take the bed; you’re the guest, afterall.”
mingi shakes his head
“i might be a guest, but i’m still a gentleman,” he refuses, and you can’t help but laugh
“i’ve learned enough about you to know that you are anything but a gentleman, mingi.”
“well you’re hardly a perfect little princess yourself,” he can’t help but chuckle in response
you hum in agreement, but soon fall back into silence as you try and work out some sort of solution to the one-bed problem
“we could just share?” you suggest after a second or two
he cocks his brow at you
“you’d be okay with that?” you just shrug in response before crawling into your bed and patting the mattress next to you
“come on in before i change my mind.”
wooyoung - rivals-to-lovers
you stare at the F at the top of your page, a flurry of emotions rushing through you
you’d never gotten anything below a C before and now all of a sudden you’ve failed?
sure you’d taken a little bit of a backseat when you were studying for this exam, but you were almost certain you knew enough of the material to at least get a B
yet you’d failed
you feel a presence walk up behind you and you sigh; you’d recognise the sound of those cocky little footsteps anywhere
“i’m not in the mood, wooyoung,” you grumble, hoping it would deter your rival for just a little while
“why not?” he teases as he walks up beside you, “are you really that sure i’ve beaten you?”
you don’t reply, but by the way he gasps, you can tell he’s already caught sight of your failure; you sigh, waiting for what’s about to come
“you… failed?” his voice is soft, not an ounce of teasing in his tone, “dude, that’s- i- are you alright?”
perhaps it’s the lack of cruelness in his voice, you’re not sure, but you feel the need to be vulnerable with him
“not really,” you shake your head, “i don’t know what happened.”
an awkward hand finds its way to your shoulder, fingers lightly tapping a pattern against your back
“i can help you if you want?” he suggests, “like, i don’t know, tutor you or something?”
you finally look at him, purely to check whether or not he’s joking
his face is serious though, and that kind of stumps you
“why would you do that for me?” he just shrugs
“i like our little rivalry,” if you look closely you can see a dusting of pink over his cheeks, “i think it’s cute when you get all angry at me for beating you, or when you’re all smug when you do better… we can’t have that if you’re getting F’s.”
jongho - friends-to-lovers
you walk out of your exam with a frown on your face; saying that it went bad would be an understatement
all you want to do is crawl up into a ball and forget about life for a while, but then you spot him
“jongho,” you yell, pulling his attention away from his phone
with a grin he slides it into his back pocket, opening his arms for you to give him a running hug
you take the opportunity, slamming into his chest at full force; he wastes no time in folding his arms around you
“how’d it go?” he asks as he begins to sway your conjoined bodies from side to side
“oh, it went horribly,” you admit, “i’m going to go home and eat an obscene amount of ice cream to make me feel better.”
he nods at your suggestion
“you could,” he agrees, “or we could go to that one cafe and pretend to get engaged so we get free desert?”
you can’t help but look up at him with furrowed brows
“engaged?” you cant lie that the idea makes your heart flutter, “what happened to the birthday meta?”
it’s a valid question; the two of you normally go to a cafe and tell the staff it’s your birthday so you can share the desert
engagement is a new one, but you’re willing to hear him out
“well,” he begins, face falling into full seriousness, “if you think about it, we only get one desert when we use the birthday meta; my hypothesis is that we get two deserts if we claim we’re engaged.”
you consider his reply for a few seconds
“fair argument,” you hum, “counterpoint; do you not think they’ll give us just the one desert for ‘romantic’ purposes? you know, feed each other with a spoon, type shit.”
jongho just shrugs
“i’m fine with that if you are.”
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Omg hi I don’t know if you take nsfw requests but I was wondering about aot’s favorite positions🥺 your writing is so so good!!
honestly.....i thought this was hard !!! i can't see any of them being overly picky on positions or even having all time favs; over the eras of aot, they all change so much it's actually hard to say...so i tried my best to think semi-objectively :3 absolutely feel free to disagree with ANY of these, everyone has diff interpretations (and i love all of em)
warnings: fem!reader (sorry), sexual content ofc, if u want the girl vers lemme know :D
AOT BOYS & FAV POSITIONS ★ masterlist.
MISSIONARY
“you look so fucking pretty right now—” is the only thing they can think of saying as they bow their chest over yours, watching your face twist as their cock sinks deeper into your cunt. one of your legs is wrapped firmly around their waist or hanging up over their shoulder; this way, they can watch you writhe and whimper whilst also watching the way you suck them up nicely, the way your body tenses and flinches with every thrust they give...
— jean, zeke, niccolo
RIDING
there is no greater joy than leaning back and watching you do your thing. their hands are on your waist, smoothing around your hips and stomach in an effort to distract themselves from simply filling you up and going wild — they love to watch you sinking down on them, your back arched and breasts rising with every rise and fall. they meet your hips by raising their own, finding pleasure in watching your face pull into contorted shapes, hearing the moans and whimpers from your mouth. from down here, they like the control they can have, and on occasion, the submission of doing whatever you tell them to
— levi, armin, porco
BENT OVER
if they can bend you over it, they can fuck you on it. tables, beds, tree trunks, fences, desks, sinks — it’s like they’re trying to fuck you on every possible or available surface they can find. they just love to see the sight of your ass tilted up, hips pressing into a hard surface, legs spread in a desperate attempt to stay upright, all while they drive themselves into you however fast or hard they want to. they can be as gentle or as rough as they want to be; running their hands up your back and between your shoulder blades, or smacking your ass and pulling your hair — everything about fucking you from behind is perfect for them, and by the sounds of things, perfect for you
— eren, floch
[bonus] s4!eren loves to fuck you over a sink or a vanity, anywhere he can pull you back by your hair and make you watch in the mirror. his eyes never leave yours through the glass, his lips whispering the dirtiest things he can possibly think of just to get you to cum around him, to watch yourself unravel in his hands
RIDING THEIR FACE
they are a seat. that’s all they are, all they ever want to be — a seat for their perfect partner. they could spend hours with their tongue up your cunt, hands pressed into your ass or hips as you ride the features on their face. they would happily die of suffocation down here, just as long as you were happy and they got to taste their favourite thing in the world
— connie, onyankopon
GIVING THEM A BLOWJOB
every position is good with their partner, but absolutely nothing beats you on your knees between their legs, their cock in your mouth. a hand in your hair, on your cheek or the back of your neck, they love to watch you take care of them, especially after a particularly long and otherwise bad day. whether it’s simply between their legs as they sit, or as they lie down before bed — or under a desk when there are other people around, nothing will ever top the feeling of your mouth running itself up their dick, or how warm and wet it feels as you take them.
— ERWIN, bertolt
REVERSE COWGIRL
“comfy, darlin?” with their hands on your hips, they love to help you sink down onto them, using your hips as handles to bring you up and down at whatever pace they fancy. they just love the sight of your face turning back to him with a pleasured look, the muscles in your back tensing whenever he hits that perfect spot up your pussy. seeing you looking like this makes him feel so proud — you’re taking him like its no problem, your ass bouncing on his stomach, toes curling as you set your hands on his legs for balance. he’ll let you take control until you tire, and then the fun can really begin
— reiner, kenny (help)
#𝒂𝒏𝒐𝒏𝒔 ★#𝚊𝚜𝚔𝚜 ♡#attack on titan x reader#aot x reader#attack on titan imagine#attack on titan headcanons#aot imagine#aot headcanons#eren yeager x reader#jean kirstein x reader#floch forster x reader#zeke yeager x reader#porco galliard x reader#armin arlert x reader#levi ackerman x reader#niccolo x reader#connie springer x reader#onyankopon x reader#erwin smith x reader#bertolt hoover x reader#reiner braun x reader#kenny ackerman x reader#aot fav positions#aot smut#attack on titan smut#ittojean#jeanbie
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Sink Your Teeth In
pairing(s): vampire!natasha romanoff x werewolf!reader
summary: Vampires and werewolves were known enemies, but Natasha is more than willing to change that. Even if it's just for one night.
warning: amab!reader, blowjobs, sub!reader, slight dubcon
a/n: ummm nat gives the best head case closed
Event Masterlist
Werewolves and vampires were always at odds with each other. Not a thousand years could go by without vampires attacking werewolves or werewolves attacking vampires. It was all the same bloodline ending bullshit. 'Your father killed mine and now I must kill you!' over and over again. Some of those fathers weren't even worth killing anyone over. It was truly a shame that no one could see how compatible the two factions were. Vampires were strict, organized people that valued loyalty above all else. Werewolves were nothing short of loyal and obedient, you just had to train them. Natasha was so close to finding the perfect werewolf for her to prove that.
Natasha had tried many times to tame a werewolf, but she'd run into a number of problems. They could be taught, but not many of them were willing to learn— especially not from a vampire. As disappointing as it was, it wasn't exactly a shock. A millennium long feuds were rarely ever one sided. Her previous attempts were also foiled by pride, shame, and simply being too boring to have any real fun.
So, Natasha spent another Friday night on the prowl.
Club Sonar was a rather interesting place. A tall building in the middle of nowhere buzzing with all forms of life. Monsters from all over the globe came together under the moon just to party. It was a messy place. The music was loud, bodies grinded against each other without a care, and secrets of all kinds were shared over the strongest alcohol. Though cultures mixed, money did not.
Each floor of the bar was more expensive than the last. The alcohol got smoother, the music got slower, and the floors actually got cleaned. Upper floors were for people who supported the cause but had no interest in getting dirty. Natasha had more than enough money to sit at the top floor, but that wasn't any fun. She'd never find what she was looking for if she stayed up there.
Werewolves were just as wealthy as vampires, but they were rowdy. They liked to play rough and get dirty. Big fancy houses just didn't appeal to them as much. Fancy clubs appealed to them even less. Natasha wasn't looking to tame someone — not to say her hand couldn't be forced — she was looking for someone soft and easy to mold.
You weren't the easiest to find. Despite your size, the people on the dancefloor had no trouble pushing you around. You kept your head down no matter where you went. Natasha could tell you weren't there on your own, which made it harder to take you home. Not too hard though.
"This really isn't your scene," she said when she took the bar stool next to you. It was hard to keep her eyes in the right place. Your shyness was adorable, but there was no denying what she was really feeling.
You looked around to make sure she was actually talking to you. Though you weren't opposed to the conversation, it was hard to believe such a pretty woman had approached you. "Um, no. My friends wanted to come here. I mean it's cool just…couldn't we have a library or something? There's no point in intermingling if you're too drunk to remember what you're kissing."
Natasha laughed and scooted closer to you. "I guess you're right, but there's no shame in being curious. Right?" She looked at the glass in front of you. "Oh, that just won't do." Before you could interject, she tapped the countertop twice and brought over the bartender. It was a quick exchange, you didn't even see Natasha pull out any cash. Despite your confusion, you didn't put up a fight. You were exactly what Natasha was looking for.
Guilt filled your eyes when you looked down at the fresh cocktail in front of you. Was it more rude to let it go to waste or ask the bartender for a refund? "Oh, you really didn't have to do that." Your hands hesitantly wrapped around the glass before taking a sip of the alcohol. The burn hit you immediately, but you tried to play it off. You tensed up to hold in the coughing fit building up in your chest. "It's…great, thanks," you forced out through a tight chest.
Natasha gave you a firm pat on the back to force you to cough. She took away the glass and slid this towards you. "I would expect a werewolf to have a stronger alcohol tolerance," she said teasingly. Her hand stayed on your back even after your coughing had subsided.
You shook your head. "A lot of us have sensitive pallets. I can taste whatever crappy oak barrel they made this in." There was an unexpected comfort in the way she touched you. "I should have asked this earlier, but what's your name?" You sat up straight as her hand moved down your back. You never really paid attention to your posture, but you had the strange urge to be better around her.
"My name's Natasha, but you can call me Nat if you want. What's yours?"
"My name is Y/N. I don't really have a nickname, but whatever you come up with is fine."
The conversation continued without trouble. Natasha seemed so enamored with how strong your pallet was. At the expense of Natasha's wallet and your sobriety, you had tasted just about every drink the bar had to offer. Eventually, you settled on just drinking strawberry daiquiris while you two talked.
Natasha pulled your seat closer to her and she leaned down to whisper in your ear. "So how many more of those little smoothies do I have to buy to take you home with me?" Her hand slid up your thigh and gave it a firm squeeze. She could feel your dick twitching already. "I promise I'll only bite where it feels good."
You practically jumped out of your skin when Natasha kissed your neck. It was quick, but you could feel the pointed tips of her fangs brush against your skin. "Um..Can I finish this one first?" Before Natasha could say anything else you pulled out your phone and texted your friends. 'Leaving with a hot lady, ttyl!' was all you sent before cutting off your phone and downing the last of your drink.
Natasha adored your enthusiasm. "I promise I'll get you home safe in the morning." She kissed your neck one last time before dragging you outside to her car. It was a good thing she brought her chauffeur along because there was no way she'd be able to keep her hands off you the entire ride home.
You stumbled behind Natasha as best you could. Vampires were usually weaker than werewolves, but you were a little too tipsy to show your strength. You let Wanda push you into the backseat of her car. One sniff of the air and you could tell someone else was in the car. "You have a chauffeur?" Natasha covered your mouth and pushed you further into the backseat.
"Home," was all she told the driver before closing the partition and focusing her attention on you. "Yes, but I promise the back of the car is soundproof." It certainly wasn't, but she needed to hear how whiny you could get. Natasha practically pounced on you after she closed the door. The kiss was hot and passionate. Your fangs bumped against hers every time your lips collided. "Can you taste what I drank earlier?" She asked with a giggle.
A whine escaped your lips when Natasha pulled away. "Um…a lot of vodka and cooper..?" Your answer earned you another kiss. Natasha's lips felt like heaven against yours. She overwhelmed all your senses in the most delicious way possible. You didn't even notice how hard you'd gotten. "You smell…really good." You mumbled in the handful of seconds between kisses.
She chuckled but didn't respond. You were too cute. "I'm going to make you feel so good tonight." Natasha's kisses moved down the side of your jaw until she reached the base of your neck. Her hands wasted no time undoing your belt and tossing it on the car's floor. One of her fingers circled around the tip of the tent in your pants while she watched you squirm. "You're so sensitive."
You opened your mouth to speak only to be interrupted by a string of cursing and desperate whimpering. "Sorry, I'm just new to all of this," you confessed. It was a little hard to imagine your first time going to a bar would take such a turn.
"Don't tell me someone as cute as you is still a virgin." Your silence was enough. It was as arousing as it was disappointing. Natasha didn't want to go slow by any means, but the thought of getting to corrupt that innocent little mind of yours was exhilarating. "I promise I'll be extra gentle with your little friend."
The car parked before Natasha could pull down your boxers. Natasha's lust-driven craze left you in quite an awkward position while waiting for her to unlock the door. Holding your pants up only made your bulge stand out more and there was an obscene amount of lipstick covering your neck. You hoped Natasha wasn't secretly vampire famous or else you'd be in real trouble.
Natasha pulled you into her home and wasted no time undressing you. Your shoes, shorts, sweater, and T-shirt littered the soft carpet. Natasha had you completely naked by the time she pushed you onto the bed. "You're making a mess already," she whispered seductively as she crawled onto the bed. Her eyes focused on the way your member throbbed and leaked precum.
Your eyes followed Natasha's as she began stroking your member. It was tortuously slow, but it felt good. A near-pornographic moan fell from your lips as your head tilted back. "Your hands are so soft," you whimpered pathetically. All your willpower went into staying still. You didn't know what to do with yourself. "C-can I touch you too?" You blindly reached out and grabbed the first thing you could feel. Mindlessly, you groped the soft flesh in hopes that it would make Natasha feel good too. Your face burned bright red as she moved your hand to where her breast actually was. “Sorry…I wasn’t looking,” you mumbled.
Natasha kissed up the underside of your cock before licking all the way down to the base. “A good pup would pay attention to someone making them feel this good.” She waited until you looked down at her. Once she was sure you wouldn’t look away, she swallowed you down to the base. Her cheeks hallowed out as she began sucking you off.
Your hips twitched and your eyelids fluttered, but you tried your best to keep your eyes open. As your orgasm got closer, you found it harder to control yourself. An animalistic growl ripped through your throat as you tried to control yourself. Your fangs forced themselves out of your mouth and your claws had nearly ripped Natasha’s sheets. “W-wait, slow down,” were the only words you could get out before it happened.
Hot white cum painted the inside of Natasha’s throat as she swallowed down everything you gave her. Natasha didn’t give you a break and continued until you pushed her away. “Is that all you have left?” She blew on your bulbous tip before giving it a kiss.
“N-no, I just…I need a second. That’s all.”
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Stood-up
A Severus Snape x fem!reader Oneshot
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3
Pairing: Severus Snape x former student reader
Summary: Your former professor saves you from embarrassment when your blind date doesn't show up to the fancy restaurant you were meant to meet at.
Warnings: Smut, Loss of virginity, virgin reader
Wordcount: 5007
Read on Ao3 or below the cut
You did not expect life after Hogwarts to be…this. Whatever this is. Boring. That much is certain. You finished school five years ago with good grades and that was it. You celebrated your graduation with your friends who were already gushing about their future careers and their dream jobs, and you had nothing to offer to the conversation. You didn’t know what you wanted to do after school. And five years later you still don’t know.
You wanted to move out of your parents’ house and so you went to interviews for any job you thought yourself decently qualified for. You ended up working in a depressing little second hand bookshop in Diagon Alley. The owner, some rich fuck that doesn’t even live in London, pays you well to take care of anything that needs taking care of because the shop belonged to his wife’s grandfather, and she can’t bear separating with it.
You also get to live rent-free in the one-room flat above the store. You have a kitchen, a bed and a bathroom and no controlling boss looming over your every move. Life is…good. It’s ok, nothing groundbreaking, but how many people get that? How realistic is an action filled, thrilling life actually?
Your friends seem content with life as it is and so you try to be content as well.
In reality you feel lost.
You have looked into universities, but you aren’t sure if you’d be good enough and the fear of failing holds you back. Besides, what would you even study? In school charms had been your favourite, but was that because of the subject or your teacher? Professor Flitwick had made each class a delight to be in.
You shove the thoughts away, focusing on finishing up closing the store. A friend has set up a blind-date for you. Some guy she works with at the Ministry. She has gushed about him endlessly and you are sure were she not in a relationship herself - she would totally try to date him.
That is a recipe for disaster, but you want to indulge your friend or perhaps just make her shut up and so you go along.
You lock up the shop and hurry upstairs to shower, change and put on some makeup. An hour later you are standing outside the shop, mentally preparing for the apparition. You are certain you’ll never get used to it.
Pleasant, classical music floods the street as you open the door to the wizarding restaurant and bar in central London. This is already outside your comfort zone. Too fancy and too full. Are you underdressed? Are you overdressed? Shit, what if he isn’t here yet?
“Reservation for Everett.” You say to the hostess who swishes her wand and looks through the list of reservations.
“This way, madam. Your partner is not here yet.” Shit. Of course, he wouldn’t be. You are early. Way too early. Pathetic, desperate early.
The hostess shows you to your table and you smile kindly as you sit down. A waiter hurries over to you and asks for your drink order.
“Wine. Red, please.” The waiter is gone before you can finish your sentence. A glass of wine floats to your table shortly after. You let your eyes wander over the room as you take small sips. A few couples sit at the tables, some more stand at the bar, chatting with each other.
You wait.
And wait.
Three glasses later you know you got stood up. You try to fight the tears stinging in your eyes and dig through your purse for some money to pay for the drinks and scurry out of the restaurant as fast as possible.
How pathetic! Hot shame spreads through your chest, your guts twist at the mere thought of getting up and leaving. Your feet don’t work. They simply won’t respond to your command. With all your willpower you stifle a sob in your throat. This is your last straw.
All the disappointment over life after Hogwarts, the loneliness, being lost and left behind by the golden opportunities your future had promised you - and now not even your date could bother to show up! You didn’t even want to meet him. Prick!
“Ms. (L/N)?” You flinch. That voice. You are sure that voice would give you war-like flashbacks for the rest of your life. Running through corridors at night, blood pounding in your ears, already feeling safe as the entrance to your common room approaches just to be violently stopped by those words.
You turn and meet the dark eyes of your former professor for potions.
Severus Snape has not changed in the five years since you last saw him. The same hooked nose, same pale skin. Black greasy hair falling into his face. The long black robes hiding every inch of his skin.
“P-professor Snape.” You reply, because you have to say something. His eyes wander over you, clearly made up for a date and then twitch to the empty seat across from you. They narrow as they see the three empty glasses and the slight redness of your eyes. Without saying anything he slips into the seat across from you.
“Two glasses of whatever the lady has been drinking.” He says as he grabs a waiter by the arm. He gestures towards the glasses. “And get rid of these. What kind of service is this?” The waiter apologises profusely and hurries away quickly.
You stare at Snape in bewilderment. He is sitting across from you. He saw you got stood up and sat down. And he ordered drinks.
He is looking at you. Say something. Anything. Shit shit shit.
“I was supposed to meet someone.” You say, cursing how meek you sound. You look away and try to subtly wipe the corner of your eye where a stubborn little tear tries very hard to run down your cheek. You know if you allow that one to pass your lashes, there is no holding back the rest.
“I gathered.” He leans back in his chair, his eyes still roaming over you. Instantly you feel like you are back in the dungeons of Hogwarts, trying your best to brew a potion while he stares at you, waiting for the moment you fail. You swallow hard as the familiar nervousness of being around Snape takes over.
“A boyfriend?”
“N-no. A friend set it up- never met him.”
“What do you do these days?” You blush. You were afraid he might ask that.
“I-I run a little b-bookshop in Diagon Alley…sir.” The ‘sir’ slips out before you can stop it. A smirk tucks at the corners of his mouth at the sound of it but dies instantly.
“A bookshop? And you’re happy with that?” You shrug. You aren’t, but you wouldn’t tell him that. You cling to your glass. This is worse than getting stood up and humiliated. Infinitely worse. Snape leans over the table, his dark eyes glinting with something you can’t quite place.
“I am not going to bite you. Unless-” You tense. Is he flirting? Merlin’s beard- You feel heat rise to your face and stare down at the wine in your hands. “I apologise. This is inappropriate and you clearly wish to be as far away from me as possible. I’ll leave you to it.” Snape says, an edge of self-loathing sneaking into his voice. He digs through his pocket and puts down a few coins on the table.
“Stay-” You have no idea how you manage to force the word out of your constricting throat but there it is. Out in the open.
Snape stares at you in disbelief. You take a shaky, deep breath and look up to meet his intense gaze.
“Stay.” You repeat, firmer this time. That expression flashes through his eyes again and after a moment of hesitation he settles down.
“U-unless I am keeping you from meeting someone. I-” You hadn’t considered why he might be here. Shit, is he on a date? And instead of that he took pity on you? Does Snape date?
He chuckles. The sound as foreign to your ears as kindness or praise from him. It goes straight to your core, and you gulp as you are violently tossed back into your old crush. That is the last thing you need now!
Imagining him doing all sorts of things to you during class was bad enough already - mainly because it really messed with your grade - but imagining them now that you are no longer his student, no longer sixteen- You blush even more as you realise that - in theory - you could do these things now.
It has been five years since you graduated, sure it is a bit weird maybe, but entirely allowed. You have not been in contact with him since graduation. He has made no inappropriate comment to you while you were his student ever- in fact he barely ever talked to you.
You feel Snape’s hot gaze burn through your skull. It’s almost like he knows. Which is entirely impossible. Or is it? He has the uncanny ability to know when students are planning mischief behind his back and such things as reading minds isn’t at all a ridiculous idea to wizards- shit.
Snape’s lips curl as you stare at him.
“Oh, yes.” His smooth voice says in your head. “I know. I know all the little fantasies you have been coming up with for years.” The colour vanishes from your face. You take a big gulp of your wine, downing the entire thing in one go to aid your suddenly parched throat. Snape swirls the wine in his glass, never taking his eyes off you.
“A-and is that some-something you’d…you’d want?” You ask. Your heart twists and turns in your chest, your insides clench almost uncomfortably. You have no idea where you take the bravery from to say it out loud.
His grin grows, his eyes darken, snapping down to the neckline of your dress. In one smooth movement he gets up and holds his hand out to you.
This is it.
The one opportunity you’d get.
You take his hand.
Your skin tingles where it touches him and a giddy feeling spreads through you.
You are going to sleep with your Potions professor. Former professor. Dark, unapproachable, cruel Snape. The man you have been fantasising about since 6th grade. The man that terrifies you as much as he intrigues you.
Together you leave the restaurant. He guides you towards an abandoned alley and lets go of your hand to snake his arm around your waist.
“Hold on tight.” He whispers in his ear. You can feel his breath on your neck and a shudder runs down your spine. You take a shaky breath and put your arms around his waist. You are swept up in his scent, musky and herbal. It clouds your mind instantly and you bite your tongue so you don’t inhale deeper just so it can flood your senses more. His magic wraps around you and you squeeze your eyes shut, waiting for the apparition to pass. You can feel the chuckle rumble through Snape’s chest before you hear it.
“Still no fan?”
“No.” You reply breathless and separate from him. He holds onto your waist, eyeing you as though he expects you to collapse. Right- You did. During Apparition training in your 7th year, you lost consciousness after your first successful attempt. He was one of the teachers overseeing the training.
You blush as the memory of how embarrassed you felt waking up in his arms, your whole year watching, resurfaces in your mind. You clear your throat and look around. You’re in Diagon Alley, not far away from the bookshop. You dig through your pocket and get out the key as you walk towards it.
You are going to have sex.
You are going to have sex with Snape. He’s walking right behind you. Nervous doesn’t even begin to cover how you feel.
“This is it.” You say and close the door behind you. Your flat looks terribly small with Snape standing in it.
“Do you still want me to stay?”
“Yes. I’m just-”
“Yes?” He steps closer.
“You intimidate me.”
“Is that a good thing? Or a bad thing?”
“Good.” You reply breathlessly. Your mind is already foggy just from him standing so close to you. His eyes roam over your face, as though he is determined to enter all its details to his memory. Your heart beats impossibly fast in your chest, smashing against your ribcage so hard you wonder whether Snape can hear it. He leans down, inky hair falling into his face, stealing your view of the room around you.
Your insides clench and scream for him to kiss you. Finally kiss you. You bite your bottom lip to stop its pathetic quivering. His scent floods your senses and briefly renders your mind nonexistent.
Snape runs his fingertips over your arm, starting at your wrist and drawing goosebumps across your naked skin, all the way up to your shoulder. Your breath hitches and you barely manage to withstand the urge to hold onto him.
“You’d have to take this off first.” He says, quiet, calm. His voice sends a shiver through your body. He drags his fingers over your shoulder to your neck. He takes the zipper and slowly pulls it down, the sound resounds in your room loud like thunder.
He barely touches your skin when he peels the straps off your shoulder and gently tugs the dress down and over your hips. It pools around your feet on the ground.
Snape takes a step back and takes in your body. You aren’t wearing a bra, you own none that would have looked good with the dress and stand in front of him only in a pair of black lace knickers.
His eyes remain as unreadable as they always are. He seems to assess your body with the same impartiality as he used to look at your potions. You shiver, cold air swirling around your heated skin, goosebumps spread across your skin and your nipples harden. Your face is burning hot though, and you barely resist the impulse of covering yourself with your arms.
Just when you begin to think this is some cruel joke, he is playing on you to embarrass you, he closes the distance between you two - too fast for your mind to catch up. He grabs your waist and smashes your body against his. His lips crash against your collarbone, his teeth graze your skin.
You gasp and sink your hands into his hair, marvelling at how soft it feels. He kisses your skin, sucks and nibbles. White hot lust seeps into your skin from the saliva he spreads across it.
He holds your waist in his surprisingly strong arms and attacks your chest, worshipping every inch of you as though you are some ancient artefact promising prosperity and luck to loyal devotees. He groans against you, and you join with a moan of yourself, arching your back, offering your chest up to him. He accepts without hesitation, with enthusiasm even. Snape licks broad, firm strokes over your exposed breast, roughly kneading the other with his hand.
His thorough attention is dizzying. Blood pounds in your ears and waves upon waves of merciless pleasure course through you, twisting your vocal cords into the strangest of sounds you have never heard yourself make.
“Are you a virgin?” He groans against your skin.
“Y-yes-” He stops, dead in his tracks. Slowly his head tilts back, his gaze snapping in on yours.
“Yes?” Hunger flashes through his eyes and he licks his lips. “How the fuck are you still a virgin?” You blush more fiercely if that is even possible. Your shrug and drops your hands to his shoulders.
“Um- nobody was ever interested in me like that.”
“You’re what? Twenty-one?”
“Twenty-two.”
“And nobody ever touched your gorgeous fucking body?” He sounds baffled, like your words are the most ridiculous thing he has ever heard.
“Touched, yes…snogging at parties in the common room and such, but-” Your voice trails off.
“You are telling me.” He says, his voice growing to untamed deep turmoil of unabashed desire and feral lust. “Nobody ever sucked on these dainty, splendid nipples?” As if to emphasise his words he closes his lips around one, holding it between his teeth and flicking his tongue over it. You whimper. Your legs shake under the weight of your own body, and you cling to his shoulders. His eyes never leave you, the weight of them heavy on you, buzzing on your skin. You throw your head back, moaning like you’ve never moaned before.
He chuckles, the vibration of it ripples through the tissue of your breast and sinks deep into your body, melting into your bones. He kisses his way back up to your collarbone and neck.
“Fools. Every single one of them that did not realise what they are missing out on.” He gently sucks on the sensitive skin in the crook of your neck. He steers you backwards until your calves meet the frame of your bed and you allow your body to fall back.
Snape kicks his shoes off and slips out of his cloak before he follows you, crawling over the bed, up your body like a predator about to devour his prey. A shiver rushes through you at that thought. Yes- you want him to devour you, to worship you, to ruin you and build you back up. He braces his arms against the mattress on either side of your head.
“And you still want me to stay?” The words fall into the space between your bodies, filled with heat and want, desire and fear, buzzing with anticipation. His eyes are softer somehow, less intense, but not less hungry. They tell you how much he wants you, craves you but also tell you he’d stop. You just need to say the word and he will leave. Without shaming you, without a cruel word or ounce of disappointment.
“Yes.”
“You want to give this first experience to me? Of all people?”
“I’ve always wanted it to be you.” Snape groans and closes his eyes. His head drops, coming to rest against your shoulder, nestling to the crook of your neck.
“Do you have any idea-” He is breathing heavy, clenching his fists in your sheets, his body one large, tensed muscle. “-what you do to me?” Before you can answer he grabs one of your hands and brings it down. He presses it against his upper thigh where his cock is very hard, straining against its confines. You gasp at which Snape smirks. He rolls his hips against your hand.
“It’s big…” You whisper, more fear mixing in with your burning arousal.
“You can take it.” He leans down. His lips brush over your cheek. “I’ll make sure of it.” His breath dances over the shell of your ear, prickling. As soon as it passes your skin feels terribly cold, like it’s never going to be warm ever again just to be replaced by burning heat. Snape drags the tip of his tongue across the shell of your ear and back down to close his lips around your earlobe.
The whimper that falls from your lips at that is more of a high pitched squeak and finally, finally he kisses you. His lips are soft like silk and warm, reminding you of a mug of butterbeer in the Three Broomsticks in winter.
You sigh and move your lips with his, threading your fingers through his hair. Despite the way he has been acting so far, he kisses you passionately, almost slow, but no less thorough.
Severus Snape is nothing if not thorough.
And he intends to savour you.
You part your lips for him, eager to move this along, eager to feel him and the pleasure he can bring you, but when it comes to actually deepening the kiss you hesitate. Snape senses your nervousness and takes over the decision making from you. The tip of his tongue meets yours and he slides it slowly over your own, easing you into the kiss and coaxing a small moan from you.
You relax against him and surrender yourself to his touch once more. You have never been kissed like this. With want and need, with passion and hunger. He maps out your mouth as though he is trying to dissect a potion he has never seen into its separate components.
His hands run over your body, your sides and stomach to your thighs. You whine at his touch and muscles twitch under your skin as if to reach out to his calloused fingers. The wool of his frock rubs against your skin when he moves. You reach out to work on the endless row of buttons but are rather abruptly interrupted by his fingers against your cunt.
A surprised, shuddering gasp escapes you and your fingers tense against his chest. Snape chuckles into the kiss, never once stopping his assault on your mouth. Playful he circles your entrance, gathering you slick and spreading it to your clit. You cling to his shoulders and push your head back into the pillows. Pressure builds deep in your cunt, and you need him to ease it- need him to- to-
“Ahh-” You cry out and dig your nails into Snape’s shoulders. Your own fingers never felt that fucking good.
“Are we enjoying ourself?” Snape teases, watching the pleasure drunk expression on your face.
“Mhh…Snape-” You buck your hips into his hand. “Please- fuck me-”
“Patience, dear. I told you I would make sure you can take me.” He teases your entrance with a finger, coating it in your slick and then gently pushes inside you. “I will fuck you. I will fuck you so well nobody will ever compare to me, but first I’ll stretch this virgin cunt because as you so eloquently put it - It’s big.”
“There was this rumour back in school-” You murmur, blissful pleasure clouding your mind and rendering it utterly useless. “-that- that….oohhh-”
“That I’m a virgin?” He smirks. He pumps his finger inside you, curling it and pressing upwards slightly and a flash of searing pleasure explodes inside your cunt, and you squirm under him, rolling your hips into his touch to get more more more. “Does it feel like I am? Like I’ve never touched a woman?”
“Snape-”
“Dear, believe me, I know your body better than you.” You want to get offended by that statement. What a man thing to say but then Snape does something with his finger, twisting and curling at the same time or something else, interrupting your thoughts harshly with another mind-blowing ripple of pleasure.
Snape adds a second finger, stretching you carefully and kissing you the entire time, then a third. You are hot all over. Sweat clings to you like a second layer of skin. You are shivering from unfulfilled need and the steadily building pressure deep in your cunt just outside of Snape’s reach.
It builds and builds, beyond anything you were ever able to do to yourself and you have no idea how it keeps building and where all this pressure goes because the thought of it all staying confined in you is absurd!
You whine at the loss of his touch and buck your hips in a futile attempt of stopping his fingers from leaving you. Snape looks very fucking smug, but you are to wound up and needy to even care.
He watches you squirm, your slickness dripping off his fingers. He traces your lips with his ring finger, spreading your own arousal over them. You are too far gone to really care. Your tongue darts out and licks your lips clean, accepting his finger into your mouth. You suck his fingers clean, one after another, Snape’s dark eyes never leaving you.
“What a good girl.” He coos. His voice rolls over your skin and sinks into your body, causing your insides to clench.
You watch Snape undo the rest of the buttons and toss the black frock away. He opens his belt, the quiet clink of the buckle echoes in your mind. You’re about to see Snape’s prick. Snape just fingered you. You’ve been kissing Snape!
Your heart beats faster, like a hummingbird forced to forever fly on the spot in a too small cage. Anticipation takes your breath away and impossibly so, more slickness rushes to your entrance. Every second he takes to open his trousers feels like another fire being lit on your skin.
He slides a hand in his pants and now you are sure he is doing it to see you squirm because who moves that slow?
You let out an impatient whine and squirm, bucking your hips to grind against him.
“So impatient.” He chuckles and finally, finally frees his prick.
It’s big is a pretty accurate description, you don't know what Snape has against your eloquence. Jesus fuck, is another option but you doubt Snape would find that more eloquent.
His plush, purple cockhead is already leaking pre-cum. Snape mutters an incantation, you recognise as a contraception spell, before aligning himself with you.
“Don’t worry, dear.” He coos. “I’ll be gentle. Just relax.” You try. You really try, but Snape has your nerve endings running in circles, screaming, while on fire. Stop, drop and roll is not an option that they can think of, mainly because thinking is quite difficult when on fire.
He pushes against you, and you tense further. Snape rubs your thigh, and you take a deep breath and try to relax your muscles. Slowly, inch after thick inch Snape enters you. Beads of sweat collect on his forehead from the strain of going slow. Inch after inch of your tight channel is mercilessly forced to yield to his girth, stretching you open with a small sting.
Snape grunts and sinks into you to the hilt, sacking above you to give you time to adjust and also catch his breath.
You are so bloody full. How he isn’t ripping you open is a miracle to you. Your knuckles are white from holding onto his arms. The muscles in your thighs quiver. You give tentatively rolls of your hips, earning a low groan from Snape another wave of deep pleasure.
“You’re breathing really hard.” He mutters into your ear. “I like that - keep working so hard for me, dear.” Snape’s thrusts are long and controlled, massaging your inner walls and hitting just the right spots. You are reduced to a pathetic, needy moaning puddle of bliss and want.
Snape isn’t doing too much better. His breathing is heavy and loud right next to your ear which drives you deeper and deeper into your trance-like state of ecstatic bliss. His rhythm falters more than once and his groans take on an animalistic edge.
“So tight.” He grunts and drives back into you. “Just for me-”
“Snape!”
“That’s right. Saved yourself for me, didn’t you, dear?”
“Idiot.” You laugh against his jaw.
“No need to play shy - you can tell me.” Snape smirks and leans his forehead against yours. “I won’t tell anyone, I swear.” He snaps his hips forward, hitting that spot with more force than before and your breath gets stuck in your throat. You tense and convulse, somehow simultaneously. Snape grunts when you clench around him and your inner walls spasm.
“Keep coming- keep fucking coming for me!” He reaches between your bodies and rubs your clit. A violent wave of pleasure smacks you right in the face and you scream in pleasure. Snape whispers reverent praise and fucks you through your release, coming shortly after with a long groan inside you.
Sweaty, sticky and spent you collapse on the bed, both trying to catch your breath. Snape runs his hand over your thigh absentmindedly. His cum slowly leaks out of you. Your eyelids are heavy. A heavy blanket of bliss and contentment settles over you.
“Thank you.” You whisper into the silence of your flat.
“Whatever for?” He chuckles next to you.
“It was nice.” You shrug.
“Well, I should be thanking you for even letting me touch you.”
“Let’s thank each other.”
“Fine.” You stay there a while longer, but eventually Snape disentangles himself from you and gets up to get dressed.
Lying on your side with your sheets pulled up to cover your still shaking body you watch him.
“You know-” He says but stops himself, a frown appearing on his face. “A career isn’t the only thing to measure how accomplished or fulfilled one’s life is. Your friends might think their jobs are great now, but in ten, twenty years they’ll realise they have never lived a day in their life. This job…” He looks around the flat. “It seems pretty comfortable to me. It seems to give you the freedom to do whatever you want. Create art or music, write, research or go to university. You can do whatever you want - fuck what other people think. Not everybody dreams of labour.”
“What if I’m not good enough?” Snape fastens his cloak. He looks up. His eyes seem heavy with a burden you can’t quite understand. The corner of his mouth twitches and perhaps for the first time in the years you have known him you see him smile.
“I think you can achieve anything you put your mind to. And either way. How will you know if you never try? The day will come you’ll regret having allowed your fear to hold you back.” His cloak billows behind him when he turns to leave. His hand already on the doorknob he stops.
“I hope you find happiness.”
“I hope you find happiness too, Professor.”
“For some of us it’s too late.” And with those words he disappears into the darkness of the night.
Three weeks later Albus Dumbledore is murdered by Severus Snape.
| Part 2 |
#snape x reader#snape x you#snape x y/n#severus snape smut#snapedom#pro snape#dividers by cafekitsune
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"Held like Glass, Kissed Alike"
chuuya x fem! reader - how he holds you 🙇♀️
a/n: to all my physical touch bbgs 🫶
content: how chuuya holds you, kissing, holding hands, fluff, drabble/small oneshot, smug! chuuya, soft! chuuya, not proofread, prolly grammar errors
"chuuya! hold my bag while you're at it!"
'cocky demands from a cocky person', chuuya thinks. "tsk," he tuts--the downpour of rain at the moment was horrific, especially in a city, a populated, developed, city drowned in sad puddles of slushy water. you and your trusted friend, chuuya nakahara, had came to go shopping, and unbeknownst to the subsequent downfall, you both stupidly didn't bring an umbrella.
so when the rain fell, he swiftly grabbed the closest umbrella in one of the restaurant's stands, successfully covering the both of you. chuuya is one of your close friends, and even though he's slightly annoyed most of the time and yaps a whole lot, he's also decently reliable.
you on the other hand, felt like you needed to make his life worse, a living hell. wanting to feel like those clingy girlfriends in romcoms, you pulled down your purse and dramatically handed it to him. watching as his eyebrows furrow in confusion, "might as well hold my bag while you're at it!" and yes, even with a baffled scoff, the redhead still held your bag for the rest of the day.
"i just realised, why do you always wear gloves?"
a romantic tune of jazz sung in the air, fancy clinks and clanks of cutlery swang past as you and your now fellow date, chuuya nakahara, sat in one of the finest restaurants in yokohama.
the ginger chews on his food intently, elbow planted on the table as he takes two gloved fingers, and motions you to come closer. you cock a brow, leaning forward, ear facing him.
"got a nasty case of athletes foot, but on my fingers." that's one way to swoon you, great work chuuya. the mafioso wiggles his eyebrows sarcastically watching as you sink away back into your seat. "thank you s'much," you reply, now picking at your food, "think I just lost my appetite."
the redhead snickers and pinches the tip of his gloves in between his teeth, removing it. "I'm joking, here." he smirks, a large hand urging you to place yours atop of his. you follow, feeling the warmth of his palms spread to yours, his hands were pretty damn big, bigger than a lot of men despite of his height.
"you like holding hands, hm?" the mafiosos smirks playfully as you try to hide the big smile creeping on your lips. he rubs the back of your hand with his thumb, gently looking as the moonlight illuminates your eyes focused on your hands. chuuya felt damn lucky he could ever get someone to look at him like that. the redhead darts his eyes back to you and your interlocked hands, whispering, "i do too, it's okay." even though chuuya was a terrifying mafia executive, he couldn't help but hide the boyish smile as he held your hand in between his fingers, feeling as your soft skin smooths over his rarely bare, lithe hands.
"this is rush hour in public transit, would ya look at that?"
you beam a light-hearted smile at the redhead beside you, in one of the most crowded subways. sweat and humid air pierced through, and so did the amount of space you could breathe in. chuuya nakahara, your newly and beloved boyfriend, hasn't taken public transportation in years. so he wasn't used to the crushing claustrophobia of other people at all, you, on the other hand seemed rather desensitized to it. smiling and rambling about how 'it's not that bad'. the redhead could only scoff in return, his right hand tightening on the bar for support.
"actually," you continue, clutching your purse in your left hand, "you haven't been here in a while, have you?" you smirk teasingly, causing chuuya to groan in annoyance at your words. the subway doors opening yet again, "well, consider this your fir--"
a new line of bustling people rammed into the compartment, as they filled the station, you stepped back in oblivion, almost seperating you and your fellow company. but with a calculated pull, chuuya hooked an arm around your waist and pulled you close to him, thumb rubbing at your side.
the mafioso lets out a dramatic sigh, "yeah, well? continue?" you look at him in a surprised gaze, eyes darting to the hand still tugged around your waist, even as the sea of other people weren't in threat of a stampede anymore. you felt a knot twist in your stomach as chuuya cocks a brow at you, waiting for you to finish your sentence. "shit, well, now i forgot."
"opinion on people who sleep with socks on?"
you weren't so used to grand gestures in general, but every month your boyfriend, chuuya nakahara, surprised you with something new just because you could deal with his shit. this month, he took you stargazing, with a small theme park next to your designated spot. neon arcade lights reflected off your face and eyes as he took a gloved hand and brushed away some strands with an ever soft graze of his fingers.
you, feeling foreign to the affectionate brush of his fingers, smile tugging at his lips, eyes rested on yours, asked the most random and stupid question that popped in your head. "what's your opinion on people who sleep with socks on?" the ginger chuckles softly at your question, still cupping your cheek, watching as your eyes drag away to anything but him. "shut up already." chuuya smiles boyishly, which reminds you of his raw humanity every once in a while. you hum in a quipped agreement before stiffling a laugh.
"happy not-so-ani-aniversary, pretty girl." chuuya's pillowy lips come down on your left cheek, leaving a soft peck as his thumbs grazes against the side of your face. his lips then connect to your right cheek, making your pinch one of your eyes shut as the redhead pecks your nose. uncontrollably smiling as you giggle, pushing your hair to the side as he presses his soft lips against your forehead, bringing yourselves down.
the mafioso brings you in closer, "i love you." he mutters, as he connects your lips to his. a soft fluttering in his stomach occurs as he feels you smile against his lips, taking his fingers in between your hair as he smooths through it. he was truly enamoured, enchanted, beyond bewitched. chuuya took in how good it feels to have you, a girlfriend, an asshole, a companion.
from every place he held, it was always just you. chuuya knew, that if his fingers fit so perfect in the interlocking of yours, curled around your waist, or cupping your cheek, he was meant to hold you. to be yours, as they say.
a/n: sorry for my vanishing bbgs, ill upload more at christmas break😔😔
#bsd#bungou stray dogs#chocsra#bsd chuuya#chuuya nakahara#bsd x reader#chuuya x reader#chuuya x you#chuuya x y/n#chuya x reader#chuya x you#Spotify
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HELP
MINORS DNI
Word Count: 3.3k
Tags: Simon Riley x Reader, Ghost x Reader, Ghost smut
Warnings: Overstimulation, pussy!drunk Ghost, tipsy!Ghost, CONSENT IS IMPORTANT
Notes: I’ve never wrote anything about Ghost so please be kind :)
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You don’t know exactly when the troubled soldier began stopping by your barracks when the voices of the dark recesses of his mind wouldn’t quiet down.
It wasn’t uncommon. Mostly everyone in your unit was accustomed to night terrors. In a sickening way, it made you feel a bit better about yourself, knowing that you weren’t alone. Everyone had their demons. Yours had been especially bad lately.
Everyone kept to themselves. Seeing as asking for help as a sign of weakness. Typical stigma. Riley especially kept to himself, only appearing when he was needed. Although, he thought he wasn’t worth a damn.
You had been made aware of Riley a few years ago, fresh meat thrown to the wolves. You were nervous, a new environment, a new team, and you immediately noted him as a pain in the ass once you made eye contact with him.
Riley was a cocky sonofabitch. All bark and bite when necessary. He was full of snarky quips and loved smoking cigarettes. To be honest, he liked the burn of the smoke - the way it would curl around in his lungs and leave him breathless - a reality check. As if he didn’t have them every damn day of his career.
He was a mystery and liked to keep it that way. No one questioned and those who did got their asses handed to them. You didn’t work with him very often, but when you did, he watched your six, kept you safe, and you did the same for him.
He was reliable. And you tolerated him for that. That night, you had awoken with a shout, gasping for air as you fought your way out of your mind. Your sheets were drenched with sweat, clothes clinging to the small of your back, pulse loud in your ears. You took a deep couple of breaths, re-orienting yourself in the living world. Your lips were dry and parched. You groan, throwing your covers off of your body and looking at the clock through bleary eyes.
2:27AM
You slid to the edge of your bunk, bare feet pressing into the cool floor. Standing up, you padded over to your door and snuck down the hallway into the kitchen. There, you grabbed a glass of water and a cigarette.
As far as you knew, no one knew you smoked - not your proudest habit. But when you dealt with the scum of the earth for your daily job, a cigarette wasn’t that bad in your opinion.
You chugged your glass of water before lighting your cigarette. Not wanting the smoke to fill the room, you open up one of the windows. You take a drag, inhaling the smoke into your lungs and holding it for a good twenty seconds before exhaling; watching the smoke slowly spiral out the screen in the window.
“Fancy a share?”
You nearly jump out of your skin, whirling around quickly and squinting in the direction of the voice. Your eyes are darting back and forth, trying to adjust to the darkness.
A tall, looming figure steps out of the shadows.
Riley.
“You fucking scared me!” you whisper-shout.
A shrug for a reply.
“You gonna share or not?” he asks again, a smirk in his voice.
You roll your eyes, holding out the cigarette and flicking ashes in his direction. He steps up closer to you, taking the rolled tobacco from your fingers. You turn away, giving him his privacy.
No one has ever seen Riley without a mask. Ever. No one questions it.
He takes a few puffs, blowing the smoke out and through his mask. The cigarette is passed back and forth between you two until it is nothing but ash. No talking, just silence. It’s comfortable.
You put the cigarette in the ashtray, grab a glass of water, and nod goodbye. One is returned to you.
Walking back down the hallway, you make it to your door and slip back inside. You know you are not able to go back to sleep, so you wash your face with cold water, brush your teeth, and fluff your blankets.
You lie on your bed, enjoying the cool night air that is cooling the sweat on your skin. Although you are not going back to sleep, you close your eyes. A smile spreads across your face, enjoying the moment that happened in the kitchen not too long ago.
Riley was a mystery card. He was starting to grow on you though. You were naturally curious about what he looked like. The only part of him you had seen were his eyes. They changed, sometimes dark and stormy, a cloud of black swirling in with the amber - usually after a mission - processing the day's work. Sometimes, when the sun would hit them, they looked like molten honey, flecks of gold peeking through.
A knock at your door startles you out of your thoughts.
You sit up warily, throwing your legs on the side of the bed and placing your feet on the floor. Walking over to the door, you stifle a yawn. You unlock the door and your eyes widen when you see him.
Riley.
Your brows scrunch in confusion. As you’re about to ask, he cuts to the chase.
“Can I come in?”
You’re taken aback, mind-reeling. Why in the world would your lieutenant want to come into your room? Had you done something wrong? You blink a couple of times, widening the opening in the door and stepping back.
He takes the opportunity, squeezing in through the opening of the door. He’s fucking huge, filling up your entire doorframe. You take a step back behind him before closing the door. Still trying to process, you turn back around. He’s looking around your room, silent and stoic.
You clear your throat, grabbing his attention. He’s standing there awkwardly, a bit like he has regretted his decision in coming down here.
“‘S Nice,” he murmurs, accent thick.
You hum, nodding in agreement. Your room was one place you wanted to feel safe in at the end of the day.
The silence is awkward now, not like the comfortable one you had shared earlier. You hadn’t really taken a look at him earlier, so now you do. He’s wearing black sweats that sit low on his waist and a form-fitting black t-shirt.
He looks good.
This is the least amount of clothing you’ve ever seen him in. You have never thought of him in that way. Your job was too stressful, too busy - and the fact that he was your superior was another daunting if.
You hadn’t noticed his eyes on you. You snap out of your reverie, only to find him staring at you. Your heart lurches, meeting his gaze. A predator and prey. You swallow a gasp as he lurks towards you.
His eyes are dark, troubled. You can see the pain in them as he gets closer. The white of his mask contrasted with the darkness swirling in his irises.
“L-Lieutenant?” you whisper, stepping back towards the door.
He’s silent, stalking forward until you are pressed against the cool, metal door. Your gut lurches, telling you that this was a mistake. Your heartbeat quickens and your mouth goes dry.
Why did you, not even second guess on letting him in?
He towers over you, leaning an arm above your head and resting on it. He’s close now, and you can smell the whiskey on his breath.
“Don’t be afraid,” he whispers, reaching a hand up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear.
You’re breathing heavily, chest rising and falling with panic. Your throat is constricting, and a cold sweat forming on your skin. The heat radiating between your two bodies is almost unbearable.
You don’t know what to expect from him. Riley is not predictable, which is what makes him such a force in the field. Your mind goes to a dark place involuntarily - a part of the job, prepare for the worst. You close your eyes, you can’t look him in the eye, not right now.
It’s embarrassing how affected you are. You try to calm your breathing. This cannot be real. You’re panicking, spiraling, letting the inky tendrils of despair grab you tight and pull you down into the depths.
“Look at me,” his voice is as clear as a bell, you oblige and open your eyes.
He’s looking down at you, and his eyes have softened a bit, could that be - concern?
You clear your throat, embarrassment flushing from your ears down your neck. He was never going to let you live this down. He grabs your chin between his thumb and forefinger, tilting your gaze up to meet him.
“Breathe,” he whispers, petting your chin with his forefinger.
His hands are covered with his signature gloves, hands that have killed in cold blood, hands that had you in between them. Your breathing starts to slow, you close your eyes for a moment before opening them again, peering up through your lashes at the man before you.
“Fucking Christ,” he curses, turning his head away for a moment.
He turns back to you, his eyes have darkened again. But this time, it’s something different - his pupils are blown wide - desire. His eyes are nearly black with lust. Your stomach flips, confused about all the signals you were getting.
“I need help,” he comments, looking up towards the sky. “Lord forgive me.”
Riley was not a religious man. You find it a bit funny. A smile threatens to break out on your lips. You are watching him silently, your teeth tugging on your bottom lip. He meets your gaze again before asking,
“Would you oppose me on my knees?”
Your brain short circuits, not fully understanding what he is asking. You are sleep deprived, still in shock that he was even in your bunk. You blink, looking up at him. Your mouth opens to ask,
“What are you askin’ me, Riley?”
He sighs a heavy, tired thing. He’s exhausted.
“I fancy your taste,” he slurs a bit. “Can’t stop thinkin’ about that little cunt of yours.”
Your mouth drops open, shock clearly evident on your face. You cannot even begin to wrap your mind around what he has just said. He doesn’t even give you a chance, just drops to his knees in front of you. He looks up through his lashes, eyes sparkling with desire.
“You gonna deny a man who is on his knees for you?”
Oh fuck.
Warmth spreads involuntarily down to your clothed pussy. You choke out a gasp. He looks so fucking pretty like this. Your mouth opens and closes and he just sits there, silent, waiting for your okay. How drunk was he? Would he even remember coming down here? Oh, you did not want to take advantage of him.
“L-Lieutenant-“ you start.
“Please,” he begs, almost a fucking whimper. It’s pathetic.
How could you tell him no? He was asking so nicely. You had been single for so long, and hadn’t had an orgasm in God knows how long. Your panties were already soaked. Fuck.
“Yes,” you whisper.
He’s on you immediately, grabbing your legs and yanking you forward. You yelp, stumbling closer to him. Riley quickly removes his gloves and steadies you by placing a hand on the back of your thigh. He slides it across and loops back near your inner thigh, grabbing a hold of you. No going back now. You steady yourself, not really sure where to put your hands.
He taps your right thigh and then taps his shoulder, wanting you to set the hinge of your knee over it. You oblige, grabbing his shoulder to steady yourself. He leans forwards, up towards your core and fucking inhales, taking in your scent. You whine, squeezing his shoulder.
He rolls the bottom of his balaclava up, exposing his mouth before placing kisses along your inner thighs. His lips are soft, you feel a scar on his upper lip. He licks a stripe of your skin, tasting you. A low hum comes from him, pleased with your taste. You are burning hot with a flush, it spreading from your ears and down your chest. Your body is arching into his touch, desperate for any attention.
You wish you could run your hands through his hair. You pet the top of his head gently, a repeated motion to soothe your nerves. Riley reaches up into your sleep shorts, tracing your folds through your underwear, Your knees nearly buckle and he tightens his grip on you. His bare hands feel good on your skin, erupting goosebumps along your thighs.
His index finger loops around the bottom of your panties and pulls them to the side, exposing your dripping folds.
“Fuck,” he groans. “Look how wet you are.”
You blush again, turning your head away in embarrassment. He leans up, making his tongue flat and licking a stripe up your folds. You gasp at the sensation. He repeats this again, getting your taste ingrained on his tongue.
“O-Oh,” you gasp, loving the feeling of him exploring the most sensitive part of you.
He growls, tightening his grip and picking up the pace, swirling figure eights through your folds and around your clit. It feels so good. Your chest is heaving as you struggle to catch your breath. He’s like a man starved, lapping at your pussy like it’s the last thing he’ll ever do.
You are making an absolute mess, dripping down his chin and onto the front of his shirt. It’s taking everything in you to keep quiet, biting back your moans into your hand. You involuntarily grind down against his face and he goes fucking feral.
“Fuuuuuck yes, use my fucking face,” he grunts out in-between devotions to your cunt.
You are near tears, it’s so overwhelming but in such a pleasant way. You have never ever received pleasure like this. He was fucking devoted to you, making sure to milk every last drop.
The noises his mouth and your pussy had been creating were obscene. The smell of your arousal had filled the room and you didn’t even care. He was thriving on it. Your first orgasm was approaching, white-hot pleasure building in your lower stomach and taking you by surprise. Your knees start to buckle as it sweeps over your body, Riley not even stopping as your brain goes into overwhelming pleasure.
You cry out his name, sobbing around his tongue in your folds.
“S-Simon!”
It’s fucking euphoric, your body floats up, up, up, and then comes back down to reality. You slam back into your body, aware that Simon is still continuing his ministrations. You gasp at the overstimulation, pushing his head until he finally pulls away.
You don’t think you’ve ever seen anything prettier.
Simon, on his knees, absolutely drunk off of your pussy. His pupils are blown so wide that his irises are completely black. He’s not even here with you, he’s fucking gone. Your slick is painted on his lips and down his chin. His chest is heaving.
He makes eye contact with you, licking his lips and sliding his hand down to adjust himself. He’s nearly straining through his sweatpants, erection ever so present. Such a people pleaser.
You moan at the sight of him.
“I’m not done with you yet.” he drawls, getting up onto his feet and towering over you again.
You blush, line of sight dropping down to your feet. His finger tilts your head up, bringing your lips mere inches from his.
“Have a taste,” he whispers before crashing your lips together.
He’s overwhelming, a clashing of teeth and tongue as he explores your mouth, not wanting any part to go untasted. You moan, tasting remnants of whiskey, your shared cigarette, and your own pussy.
It makes heat flood your core again. He frames your face with his hands, exploring your mouth with his tongue. Riley leaves you absolutely breathless. He pulls away suddenly, putting his index and middle fingers to your lips.
“Suck,” he orders.
You oblige, taking his fingers into your mouth. You swirl your tongue around his fingers, bobbing your head up and down just a bit.
He groans, watching you through half-lidded eyes.
“Good girl,” he coos, pulling his fingers from your lips with a pop.
His hands make their way down to your hips, yanking your shorts and underwear down - leaving your bare skin vulnerable. You shiver, scooting closer to the man before you. He flips you around, walking you back until the backs of your knees hit the mattress. You sit and then lay back against your plush pillows.
He follows suit, laying on his left side. His arm snakes its way behind your head, providing a cushion. So caring, you think. The other trails its way down to your folds. He swipes his fingers through your slick, repeating this a few times before sliding back up and grabbing the bottom of your inner thigh. He yanks in an upwards motion, pulling your legs open for him. You spread them wide for him, nervous about his next move.
His fingers trail down, down, down to your entrance. He slides a finger inside and you gasp, the feeling unusual. He starts slow, picking up the pace when he feels you relax for him. You’re a hot mess, moaning around his long fingers. He’s got two into you now, scissoring and thrusting your walls open. You’re a writhing mess, wanting him in every part of your body.
He curls his fingers in a “come here” motion, finding that spongey spot that makes you see stars.
“Oh, fuck Simon.” you gasp, eyes rolling in the back of your head.
He chuckles, slowing his thrusts down. You whine, lip pouting out in disappointment.
“We’ve got all night, little one,” he says sneakily, dragging your second orgasm out of you.
It’s shorter than the second but more intense. It punches you in the gut, taking your breath away from you. You cry out, sobbing around his fingers. You sink down on them, milking your own pleasure. You’re gasping for air, slowing down as your pleasure settles.
You’re already exhausted, your body feeling satiated from your pleasure. Simon slinks down in between your legs, laying on his stomach. A whine leaves your body, he’s insatiable, ready to please you again.
“S-Simon,” you weakly protest.
His gaze catches yours, a glint of mischievousness in his eyes. He keeps eye contact with you as he slides his tongue up and down your folds before thrusting it inside of you. You clamp around his tongue, sobbing softly.
He thrusts in and out of your hole, lapping up your juices willingly. Not a drop wasted. You feel movement at the end of the bed and notice he is getting himself off by pleasuring you. He’s thrusting against the bed, groaning into your pussy. You hear his words of praise mix with the sloppiness of his mouth.
“Taste so fuckin’ good.”
“Such a good girl for me.”
“Atta’ girl.”
You sob, thrusting your cunt into his awaiting mouth. You’re fucking addicted to him. He willingly takes everything you give him. You hear him choke out a moan, hips stuttering into the mattress.
It sends you over the edge and you come again. Sobbing while you try to pull away and thrust into his tongue at the same time. You are in pure bliss, completely satiated. It takes a moment before you come back, you barely hear his words.
“One more, just one more for me sweet girl,”
You let him take from you. You give, give, give until you can’t anymore. Your body is spent, satisfied, and oh so loved. He spends hours worshipping your body. When you physically cannot give anymore, he cleans you up, tucks you into bed, gives you a kiss on the forehead, and slips out of your room.
When you wake the next morning, you are so sore, but there is no regret at all. You sit up, stretching and letting out a soft groan. You look over to your bedside table. There is a glass of water and a cigarette. You smile.
The next time he visits, you’re more than happy to help.
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you make me feel so young |older!dilf!eddie munson x reader|
prompt: older!Eddie spoils you for the night.
age gap. reader is 25-26 and Eddie is 42. everything is consensual. if this isn't your thing, don't read plz.
thank you @eddiemunsons-missingnipple for the edit!!!!
contains: lots of filth so minors DNI. age gap relationship. older!dilf!Eddie. oral fem receiving. fingering. mature themes. alcohol. language.
He greeted you at the door with a bouquet of red roses, just like he did the first night he took you out. A full bouquet that mimicked the blush on your cheeks, rising up your neck and leaving you swooning under his brown eyed gaze. Cleaned up in a black button down, black blazer, and matching black slacks that hugged his thick thighs in the most delicious way, dressed to impress- and oh, did he ever. The top two buttons were left open, hints of the inked skin poking through- your mouth watered.
"Well, aren't you a pretty little thing?" Eddie winked, pulling you in by your waist to kiss you, deep and sloppy. “Look so pretty, bunny. Get dressed up like this for me?” You huffed in protest, muttering something about your lipstick smudging, but he didn't listen. His lips slotted over yours easily, savoring every waxy, lipstick stained kiss.
"You look beautiful, baby." Eddie whispered, his own lips stained with the faint red tint of your lips.
Your head reeled, licking the pad of your thumb to clean him off. He grinned, kissing your thumb with a wink. You blushed, rolling your eyes lightly at him, trying to ignore the throbbing between your legs.
When he asked you out a week ago, you didn't expect your date night to be quite so fancy. It had been a long week for the both of you- your schedule filled with parent teacher meetings and long shifts at the cafe. Eddie insisted you let him treat you- spoil you for the night. You deserved it, he insisted, and he deserved to spoil you.
His hand held onto your tight clad thighs, pad of his thumb rubbing against the delicate pattern. Rough calloused hands that always left you reeling, so close to your center that it had warmth pooling in the pit of your tummy. You shivered, fighting the urge to clamp your legs together at the sensation.
The restaurant was nice- definitely above your teaching budget, in a city on the outskirts of Indianapolis. Chic and trendy with white table cloths and expensive wine. The kind of restaurant you saw in movies, the ones your exes could never afford to take you- wouldn’t want to take you even if they could.
Eddie pulled your chair out for you, pressing a kiss to your cheek when he pushed you in, leaving you all blushy under the candlelight glow of the table. Always a gentleman, always so good to you.
"You didn't have to do all of this, Ed." You said, looking over the menu to him, eyes batting in his direction, hoping the leather bound menu might hide your blushing cheeks.
Eddie grinned. "'Course I did, baby," He purred, low and smooth across the table. "Had to spoil my best girl." His hand reached for yours, over the linen tablecloth, palm upturned to grab onto your hand. You slipped your hand into his, letting him rub your knuckles gently.
He ordered you your drink, a dry red wine that left you swooning and warm with every sip. You let him order it for you. You liked that he did that, took care of you in that way. “It goes really good with the pasta, bunny.” Eddie winked.
You'd shared dinner and even dessert, stayed at the table too long as one glass turned into two and three. You’d propped your head in your hand, eyes glassy and dizzy from the wine- lovestruck at the man in front of you. You didn’t let the questioning looks from the staff and others bother you, you knew they’d judge.
You told Eddie about your week, his large hand reaching across the table to hold your delicate one, fingers tickling your palm. Droned, wine soaked words, soft smiles, fluttering lashes and love filled glances. Eddie talked about his week in between slow sips of red wine, lips pressing together to collect the flavor. He told you about work, about Brie, about how much he missed you.
Your head was fuzzy, dreamlike with the effect of the wine. Your tight-clad foot crawling up his leg under the table. Eddie laughed, looking around with a blush. "I'll take it, you're ready to go home then?" He asked, a wicked grin on his face, lightly grabbing your foot with a gentle playful squeeze.
You nodded, squealing lightly at his hands, ticking your foot. Pulling it back under the table, slipping it into your heel while Eddie flagged down the waiter.
Eddie paid the bill, his hand on your waist, pulled tightly into his side when you walked out. He gave you his blazer to keep you warm while you walked to the car, stopping before he opened your door, kissing you long and deep under the streetlights. His lips tasted like the wine he’d been sipping, rich and woody- sweet, tasted just like him. Left you blushing and blistering the whole way home.
And when you got back home? It was magical.
Eddie made a big show of taking off your tights, slow and precise, leaving you shivering and mewling with his touch. He was teasing you, fingers hooking under the nylon and pulling slow, slow, slow all the way down to your feet. His hands returned to your bare feet, giving them a tight squeeze in his large hands, tickling your soles playfully.
"Be patient, babydoll." Eddie whispered, pressing sloppy kisses on your bare thighs, calves, all the way down to your ankles as he revealed them. “Gotta be patient f’me. You can do that, can’t you? Be my good girl?”
You nodded, a high pitched, nasally whine. “I can be good.” You nodded. “I’ll be good for you, please, Eddie.”
Your head tipped back, strangled gasp caught in your throat when Eddie's hands pushed your thighs open, adjusting them so they rested on his shoulders. Wet, lewd kisses trailing up and down your thighs, placing a gentle, delicate kiss to your core. Your body shuddered, whining and grinding down towards his mouth.
"You're a greedy girl tonight, aren't ya?" Eddie grinned, hooking your panties around his finger and pulling them down slowly. You huffed in response, pushing up on your arms to look down at him.
Eddie chuckled at your pout, plump lips jutted out and brows furrowed. "Don't worry, sweetheart." Eddie cooed, pressing a hand down on your sternum gently. "I'll take care of ya tonight."
Eddie pushed your thighs further back and apart, tongue running over one lip, agonizingly slow, then the other. Your back arched, eyes pinching closed as he finally swiped his tongue, flat and long through your folds and over your clit. He knew you loved it, when he took his time like this. Enjoying every piece of you.
Eddie's tongue went back, circling your hole slowly, beard scruff prickling and tickling the sensitive skin, nose brushing into your clit. You ground your hips into him, his large, strong hands gripping the meat of your hip. He worked his way up your folds, swiping over your clit before latching onto it entirely.
A moan tore through your chest, hips writhing in pleasure. His lips captured your sensitive button, suckling, flicking his tongue, opting between the two while your orgasm built. Closer and closer towards the edge of pleasure that he was taking you to, you were so close, and he could see it-feel it. Feel it in the way you gripped into his hair, your legs squeezing around his shoulders, hips rocking against his mouth.
Eddie pulled back, circling his middle finger around your hole, sinking it in as you cried out, back arching even further when his mouth went back on you and finger curled inside.
You gushed all over him, white hot pleasure consuming your body, mind, soul. Eddie didn't stop until you came down, whimpering and sensitive, lying back on the bed.
Eddie wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, eyes dark and lust blown when he looked down at you. Your thighs clenched, a dull throbbing tearing through you again. His hair pulled back with your scrunchie, curly salt and pepper tendrils framing his face. Tattoos littering his thick, strong arms, some faded and some new. Beard glistening with remnants of you shining in the low light.
You sat up, pushing yourself to your wobbly knees, palming him through his boxers, soft hands pulling him out. Eddie groaned, but shook his head when you started to pump him.
"No, bunny," Eddie rasped, grabbing your hands gently in his, bringing them up to your chest. "Let me take care of you tonight, alright?"
You pouted. "But-"
Eddie jutted forward, lips covering yours and tongue slipping into your mouth. You throbbed at the taste of yourself still on his tongue, damp facial hair smearing over your own face.
Eddie grinned through the kiss, fingers trailing down to your breasts, rolling the pebbled nipples in his calloused fingers. "I'm gonna take good care of you tonight, sweetheart." Eddie whispered, wisps of hair tickling your neck when he kissed the shell of your ear. His other hand moved back between your legs, smirking when you jolted, still sensitive from before.
"Just lay back for me. Let me take care of you. You deserve it."
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