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svgvru · 2 years ago

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✮ 𝗞𝗜𝗡𝗞𝗧𝗢𝗕𝗘𝗥 '𝟮𝟯 — 𝗪𝗘𝗘𝗞 𝗧𝗪𝗢!

𝗗𝗨𝗥𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗔𝗖𝗧! body worship + "i need words, pretty baby" ꒰ yamada asaimon shion x btm, f!reader ꒱: praise, set in the edo period, slight angst in the beginning, very slight manga spoilers, implied chubby!reader, oral ꒰ r!recieving ꒱, fingering, p in v, soft/gentle sex, slight breeding.

𝐈𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐄𝐗𝐂𝐑𝐔𝐂𝐈𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆... the long wait that you had to endure, desprately hoping your husband was alright. he was simply an executioner, nothing more—nothing less. his job was important to him, you know that and respect it despite it being such a mentally taxing job. you always wonder what swims through his head in those moments. sure— most of them were 100% criminals, but sometimes they had families. the death penalty was something handed out by the people in power. they could simply choose if you were guilty or not, and you would be sent to have a sword sliced through your next. you always wonder what its like—listening to people's dying words. at least with his technique they'd die quickly, it wasn't terrible, right?

but he's only an executioner. he shouldn't be observating criminals on some mysterious island. one where men go missing for months—even years! only to return a deformed pile of flowers.

he's only an executioner, one with a wife at that, so why...why did he have to go? an anxious feeling in your stomach when he told you he was leaving. "it will be alright, love. i promise," his soothing voice managed to calm you down in that moment. your cheek resting against his calloused hand, rough from many years of training and wielding a sword. his thumb softly brushed against your cheek as he promised you he'd return. he'd keep his word, that was the type of man shion was. he promised it was only for supposed to be a short trip. but the longer you didn't hear the familar sound of your sliding door—the more worried you became.

it had been far too long for a "short operation." you worried it would be him being sent back with flowers sprouting from his body. because you need him. not in the traditional "a woman needs a man for a family," or "you need a husband to work." you need shion for your own mental wellbeing. he couldn't see you, no— his eyesight had been stolen long ago. and yet, he described you as if you were the sun. he spoke to you that nothing could rival your beautiful. his terrible jokes were the highlight of your day! and you'd laugh at them no matter how despicablely awkward or horrible it was. he'd help out with housework as best he could, he'd praise and kiss you, treating you as if you were glass. his presence would always brighten your day, he was the pillar upholding your emotional and mental wellbeing.

the days had turned too long, and you feared you'd never see his face again. the only thing keeping you sane was his promise, but even your friends had given up. "without bearing a son, such a shame" you'd hear as if you weren't a grieving widow. your father had even arranged for another husband for you. but you held hope, perhaps because you were grieving. you were stuck in the stage of denial.

and perhaps you were starting to hallucinate. the sound of the woode sliding could be a noise outside, or perhaps it was your father? there was a familiar grumble, but perhaps you were thinking too hard, manefesting his voice. perhaps you were— then the sound of your name rung in the air. setting down the book you had been re-reading, you turn around, facing the door to meet the voice with shock. your eyes took in the familar sight of spiky silver hair, a horizontal scar going through the mans eyes, and two scars on each of his eyes. although, a new one adorned his skin, a horizontal scar that stretched along the front of his neck. his normal asaemon uniform was disgarded, replaced with a black shinobi robe? one with matches pants, gaiters, gauntlets, sandals, and a white tasukito hold his sleeves. it was strange seeing him in such drastically different clothing, but regardless, your husband had come home.

"shion?" a smile graces his face at the sound of your soft voice. he whispers your name with a smile, a soft expression displayed upon his face. you turn fully and slowly get up, walking hesitantly towards him as if you thought you had really lost it— if this was just a dream, or a ghost standing in front of you. your hands gently cup his face, fingertips gently touching his scars that are committed to your memory. "oh," a sigh of relief leaves your lips as you touch him, tears swelling in your eyes.

you jump to wrap your arms around him, to kiss him before he flinches, stepping back— keeping you at an arms distance. a surprised and somewhat hurt expression is displayed on your face. although, before you get a word out his nervously waves his hands in front of him, apologizing for his sudden action. "ah— im afraid im a bit...dirty, at the moment. i will visit the bath house, but i— i needed to see you first."

"oh," you say with a slight chuckle. bending down you grab a small stack of clothing, his clothing. you'd keep his robes next to you if he needed to bathe when he returns, it seems you were right. you hand him the stack. "well, im glad i prepared your robes." he smiles at your actions. "thank you," he bows respectfully, taking the stack. he wishes he could touch you, hug and kiss you in thanks for waiting for him. however, he wouldn't want to subject you to the hellish grime that was present on the island. a traumatizing experience, but he's made it back to you— that's the important part.

you have to admit, seeing him leave so soon after he'd returned made you sad. of course it was only to the bath house, but he felt so far. you anxiously fiddled with the obi tied around your kimono, waiting for him to return anxiously. and as if he could hear your thoughts he turned to corner, stepping back into your shared bedroom.

the familar informal black half-coat draped on his shoulders made you smile. he pulled on his obi before he sat beside you on your futon. his hand gently cups your cheek, you leaning into his familiar warmth. "i should apologize for my incorrect words. it seems it took much longer than i thought," shion speaks softly and leans in to kiss under your eyes as if he could see tears were to spill from your eyes, "thank you for waiting."

"i'd wait as long as i need to," you immediately respond to him. you eyes roam his face and neck, wondering how he gained the scar on his throat—although you don't ask. but— oh how you terribly missed him. how you missed his warmth and the sound of his calming voice. you long for his touch, burying your face his hands. he knew you longed for him, after all, he was gone for an abnormal amount of time than either of you were used to. and he could read your mind. he could tell what you were thinking about as you staree at him. despite not being able to see your face, he could always tell what you were thinking, even more so now after the full experience of tan. you watched him lean in closer to you. his lips lightly press against yours. the warmth you've missed returns to you as you feel and accept it. as you feel him.

you feel his rough, calloused hands slide down to your neck. his thumb brushes against your jaw. shion pulls away from the kiss, and as if he could see you, he smiles softly— his eyelids closed per usual. "you are so breathtaking, my love." you smile, and playfully roll your eyes. "as if you could actually tell."

the frown the becomes displayed on his face was adorable. it was as if a child had been told something negative about their favorite toy. "i feel that you are. and if i could see you, i assure you i'd faint!" shion accentuates his words, trying to make you laugh with another one of his dry jokes. "really?" you question him almost sarcastically, playing along with his light-hearted tone. shion sighs, shaking his head as if he's in true disappointment. "if you do not believe it, perhaps i will have to show you?" he whispers with raised eyebrows, leaning in close to you. "and how—exactly will you do this?"

shion smiles, his hands slides further down onto his neck. you feel his pinkie slide under the fabric of your layered kimono. "in a way where i can fully see with my hands," he mumbles against your soft lips, his other hand working to undo the obi tied around your midsection. a grumble leaves his lips at the accessive layers covering your body, however it'd be worth it when he fully felt the warmth of you.

you move forward to press your lips against his, and almost immediately his lips part, accepting your tongue. it had been so long since either of you had felt eachother's tongues, eachother's body— since you'd felt eachother's souls through passionate love.

he releases a greatful sigh into your lips when he touches the fabric of your nagajuban, pushing it aside quickly to touch your skin. "i have a feeling you've missed me," you mumble, feeling shion smile into the kiss. "you've missed me too, haven't you?" you hum, unable to argue against his rebuttal. you feel him lean forward as you fall backwards, letting him set down on the futon. the cloth touches the bare skin of your back as the last of the fabric is removed from your body by the man above you.

shion feels your hands touch his neck, sliding down to his shoulders to push the robe off of him. "one moment, my love," he mumbles, giving you a quick peck before he sits up, taking off each peice of fabric.

a part of him feels bad, you'd prepared these clothes for him—only for him to strip himself of them minutes later. although, the thought is thrown from his mind at the feeling of your hand gliding down his chest. "someone's quite eager for a touch?" he grins, earning a playfull push to his shoulder. "of course." he chuckles, leaning back down to give you a series of soft and meaningful kisses, touching you lightly, tracing his fingertips along your skin—he knew exactly what he want doing. it'd seem he hadn't forgotten exactly how your body worked after his dreadful trip to "paradise."

a satisfied sigh leaves your lips at his touches. "i've missed you." your words fill his ears as his lips trail from yours to your neck. you hear him mumble some variation of 'as do i' but he's bit entrapped in the feeling your body. his lips follow the valley of your breasts down the fat of your stomach, his teeth grazing the pudge above your vagina. "so beautiful," he mumbles against your skin. he whispers praises as he presses his lips along your skin.

he smiles as his lips touch the fine hairs on your skin. his fingers lightly trace your hip dips, squeezing the fat of your thighs when he touches them. his lips are level with your clit, but he opts to kiss around your pussy— kissing your inner thighs and outer lips. at ever kiss and touch— it feels electrifying. your inner thighs jolt at evey touch, although you feel yourself melting from it. his touch feels the a warm flame hovering over your skin, spreading heat throughout your body, causing your insides to feel warm— specially between your thighs. and you are aware shion grins, he can't see your reaction but his sense of smell is keen, and he's used to your body's reactions.

when his lips finally press against your clit, you jolt. the area hasn't been touched in quite a while, you were no doubt sensitive. his slow and soft movements seemed to entice a stronger reaction from you. his lips hover of your waiting pussy. "may i?" he questions, lifting his head up to show he's focusing on your response. "y-yes. you may..." he smiles at the mumble you let out. in response he utters a 'thank you' before he slides his tongue in between your inner folds— licking a stripe between them, collecting your slick on his tongue. he licks his lips at the taste of you. opting for more, he continues the movements of his tongue—sliding the tip of his tongue inside of you. a small smile spreads across his face at the whines you let slip. he could tell you were embarrassed, you always were embarrassed with your sounds—however, he always managed to pull them out of you by the end of the night.

"shion," his name left your lips in a soft cry. one of his fingers tease your entrance— his lips wrapped around your clit, sucking softly. "yes?" he smiles carefully sliding his thick finger inside of you, a small squelch produced as he does. his finger lightly curls inside of you, earning a loud whimper.

"yes, my love?" shion questions, roughly licking a stripe up your clit. "is this to your satisfaction?" his voice remains soft as ot reaches your ears, not a hint of a condescending tone or anything like that. you force out a word, aware he can't see you nod. "y—es!" he chuckles lightly, his breath against you causing you to shudder. "alright," you hear him mumble before his lips go back to work. his finger slides in and out of you, curling when it's pushed to the hilt. you feel him purposefully missing the spot that could have you cumming in seconds. shion knows where it is, however, he doesn't press there— his fingers only torturously brush against it.

"a-ah! mm, shion.." your whines are all music to his ears, "ngh! o-oh, please!" depsite how against he is on the topic of you crying, he'll accept just this once. he'll stuff another of his fingers inside of you, purposefully curling and pressing harshly against the gooey ribbee spot inside of you. he'll suck harshly on your clit as he does, a smile on his face when your hips jolt. they lift off up the bed as your thighs shake, and the strangled moan you release makes it much better. he'll lick up your release, refusing to waste any as he slurps and drinks it all up. he'll lick his lips and smile— he'd sit up and carefully wipe your tears from your cheeks with an estimation. "are you alright? can i continue?"

you sniff, sucking in a breath. you feverishly nod, eager to continue to feel his touch— the pleasure he gives you. his unsoiled hand, ups your face. "i need words, pretty baby." you simply whine at how soft his voice is, whenever it comes to you he's as gentle as can be.

another sniffle leaves your body as you collect yourself, mustering up a word. "ye...yes." you manage to whisper, glossy eyes catching the way he softly smiles at you. "thank you," he whispers, his unsoiled hand sliding down down your face and to your arm. he gently grabs your hand, lifting to his lips as he sits up. "oh, how I've missed you..." his lips kiss each and every finger, his hand turning yours so can press a kiss to your palm. "your soft skin, your voice, your touch. i've missed you so much," he whisper softly to you, leaning down as your arm slides against his shoulder— you take the liberty to tug on the little hairs above his nape, smiling at his words.

"i've— ah... i've missed you too," you whisper back to him, allowing his lips touch yours, tasting yourself of his tongue. his body is pressed against yours as you feel something press against your sensitive entrance. as he slowly presses in, you moan loudly, legs trembling. you suddenly feel just how much you've longed to feel his body against yours as you cling to him. "perhaps we should finally make the family you've been longing for?"

you chuckle, nodding happily. "yes! please..." his hips connect to yours as he holds you tenderly. his lips kiss your neck as he lets you adjust. "may i move?" he whispers, smiling at your eager 'mhm!'

the feeling of his cock sliding out of you was magical. your eyes roll as you blink, trying to keep sane from only the drag of his cock. "ah!" you tell as he slams back into you. his cock stretching you in a way you haven't felt in such a long time. you felt as if you could feel every vein and curve of him, your hands secured on his back. his strokes are slow and sensual, providing you with the pleasure and love he feels— there being no shortage of his soft words in your ears. whiny 'i love you's leave your lips. his soft huffs and grunts fill the room, paired with your sweet whines. "oh, you feel amazing," he voice is soft and breathy. "i really should give you a child of mine to bare—"

eager 'mhm!'s leave your lips as your thighs shake, his thrusts getting a bit rougher. the more you felt him, the more you longed for a child. one identical to him if possibe. "oh! ugh..." the coil in your stomach started to tighten, the anticipating feeling spreading to your inner thighs. "ang—ngh! a-ah there! right there! don't stop!" you shout, unapologetically digging your nails into the skin of his back.

shion pants with a smile, keeping the same pace and force he has— he grits his teeth at the pain of your nails, but he cannot deny the loves the feeling.

if you could keep your eyes open, you could recognize how desirable he looked. his cheeks are red, the tips of his ears following suit. his jaw was clenched, and his lips were parted in desire. you wished you could see his eyes. wished you could've seen what would be in them. although, as your eyes cross and your head falls back, all thoughts leave your head. only him. only your husband and his cock inside of you. your thighs shake as the coil snaps, you cream on his cock. at the same time shion grunts, filling you to the brim with his cum.

he carefully rests his forehead against yours, the two of you panting in tandem. shion swallows, his jaw feathering. "one more time. one more time and i'll be sure we're getting a present in a few months." you chuckle along with him, slightly nodding.

"yes. more!"

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cutiepatootielifesposts · 1 year ago

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૮ ྀི◞͈ ˔ ◟͈ ྀིა ‧₊˚ — ʰᵉˡˡᵒ !!🍰

#bottom male reader #top male reader #top gn reader #ftm bottom #ftm top #top fem reader #bottom female reader #bottom gn reader

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samlacy · 1 year ago

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Masterlist & Intro

HELLO!! My name is ila (for short, ilan also works idc tbh^^)

I am a HUGE reader and part time writer :)

I highly suggest to check the tags before reading my fics because I mostly write angst with a side of smut

REQUESTS : OPEN

Im multifandom, which means I write about marvel, supernatural, csm, etc.!!

I write ships AND x readers, just request!!

Okay enough about me, here is the masterlist

MARVEL

**ACROSS THE SPIDERVERSE

- Hobie Brown

• Sunsets at the beach (red dots I fell inlove with)

Angst & Hurt no comfort / x reader

• Your Only Flaw Is That You‘re Flawless

Angst & Hurt no comfort / x reader

• False pleasure (I will be good for you)

Semi-Angst & Smut/ x reader

• Hot Man

Drabble / x reader

• Apron

Fluff / x reader

**AVENGERS

- Steve Rogers

• Love Me, Touch me (be the first who ever did)

Smut / Virgin!Reader

• Tall Baby

Smut / x reader

• Thighs

Smut / x reader

- Tony Stark

• …

ORIGINAL WORK

- MLM (men love men)

• Don’t Leave Me Here (Shivering In The Disappearance Of Your Warmth)

Angst / slight smut

SUPERNATURAL

- Castiel

• Let me go, I’m starving

Sastiel (SamxCastiel) / Smut & Angst

- Sam Winchester

• Let me go, I’m starving

Sastiel (SamxCastiel) / Smut & Angst

• One Last Time

Sabriel (GabrielxSam) / Smut

- Dean Winchester

• …

- Gabriel

• One Last Time

Sabriel (GabrielxSam) / Smut

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cowboybeepboop · 10 months ago

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Late Night

Pairing: Clark Kent x fem! Reader

Genre: Smut, gentle and romantic

Word count: 3.7k

Summary: Your friendly neighbor Clark Kent comes to your door one evening, allowing for the two of you to finally grow your relationship.

Warnings: This is not proofread what so ever, gentle/sort of shy Clark, unprotected sex, oral fem receiving, p in v sex.

a/n: Idk rn but I genuinely can't wait for David Corenswet to be Superman (Henry Cavill is so hot tho...). I’m already imagining how perfect he's gonna be as Clark Kent. As always, send me any requests you have and I hope you enjoy!

For months now, you had been quietly pining for the man who lived across the hall from me in our unassuming apartment building. His name was Clark Kent, and there was something about him that was utterly endearing. It wasn't just his chiseled jawline or the way his eyes crinkled when he smiled, but the kindness he exuded, the way he always had a helping hand ready for anyone in need.

You had become something like friends, sharing the occasional awkward small talk as we passed by with our shopping bags or recyclables. You had seen him in various stages of undress, coming back from his midnight runs, his superhero-like physique hidden under loose-fitting t-shirts and sweatpants.

Something that had fueled your evening pleasure sessions, everytime your eyes fell closed you could remember the image of his hardened abs, his huge and muscular arms.

On a warm summer evening, there was a knock at your door. It was Clark, the guy from across the hall. He stood there sheepishly, his hand running through his black hair.

He wore a white shirt that was unbuttoned and messy. He held a bottle of wine in one hand. "Hey", he said. "I hope I'm not disturbing you. I was wondering if I could get a favor?"

“Sure what’s up?” you give him a small smile, your eyes fall on his exposed chest before quickly flicking back to his face. His heart rate increased as he realized that you could see through the thin fabric of his shirt the toned muscles of his chest covered in a light layer of hair.

He cleared his throat, composing himself, holding up the bottle of wine. "I, umm, I was wondering if I could borrow your corkscrew. I lost mine."

“Yeah, of course. Come on in.” you move to the side, allowing him to come in. Your mind clouding with desire as he towers over you, his cologne filling your senses.

He steps into your apartment, the tight space meaning his body brushes against yours slightly as he passes. The contact between you both is brief, but it's enough to send a shiver down his spine as he enters.

Your cheeks flush slightly as you realize your own appearance, wearing just a button down top that is unbuttoned enough for him to see your cleavage and your underwear. You awkwardly lead him to the kitchen, arm subconsciously moving to cover your breasts as you turn around, handing him the corkscrew.

"Uh, thanks." He says as he takes the corkscrew from you. Even with your arm draped over yourself, he can't help but notice the glimpse of exposed skin, his eyes lingering before he catches himself and averts his gaze, forcing himself to stay focused on the task at hand.

He starts to open up the bottle, the action allowing him to look away from your figure for a moment and compose himself, his hands shaking slightly as he tries to concentrate.

Your hand reaches out, fingers brushing over his. “Oh yeah this thing is weird, you kinda have to do it a particular way.” you murmur, taking the bottle from him as you fumble with the screw.

He bites his lip as your fingers brush over his, his stomach swirling at the touch of your hand. He watches as you take the bottle from him, his eyes fixated on your every movement as you try to open the bottle.

"Thanks," he mutters, his voice low and a bit shaky. His eyes wander down, his gaze drawn to the way your top fits, revealing a tantalizing glimpse of your cleavage.

“Mhm,” you reply as you pull the cork out, a small splash of wine staining your collar. You bite down on your lip while setting the bottle down, fingers rubbing the fabric. His eyes widen slightly as he watches the droplet of wine slide down your collar, the stains on the fabric making it even more translucent.

Clark swallows hard, his mind wandering to inappropriate and ungentlemanly thoughts. He clears his throat, trying to look away, but he can't help but notice the way your fingers are now rubbing at the fabric, the motion only drawing his attention further to your chest.

You glance over him, hand falling from your shirt as you give him a soft grin, noticing the way his gaze lingers.

His gaze flicks up to meet yours, his cheeks flushed. He realizes he's been caught staring, his eyes having been fixated on the way your hand moves over the fabric of your shirt, the motion stirring something deep within him.

"I, umm..." he stutters, his words failing him as he feels his throat dry up. He swallows slowly, forcing himself to focus on something else. "Thanks, for helping me open the bottle," he manages to say. He shifts on his feet, trying to discreetly adjust himself as he feels his jeans becoming a bit tighter.

“Of course, do you want to share the bottle? Or do you have someone waiting for you?” you move slightly closer to him.

His heart quickens as you come closer, his mouth going dry as your proximity makes it all that much more difficult to concentrate. He glances down at the bottle sitting on the counter, his mind racing with desire and indecision.

"No," he says, his voice low and a bit huskier than usual. "There's no one waiting for me." He looks back up at you, his eyes locking with yours, his gaze intense and filled with a mixture of nervousness and something more forbidden. "I'd like to share the bottle with you."

“Perfect.” You smile, stepping closer as you reach for the cabinet behind him, your chest pressing into his ever so slightly. You open the door, reaching for two glasses his breath hitches as he feels your body press against him, the sensation sending a jolt of heat through him.

Your chest rubs against his, and he can feel the weight and softness of you against his body. The proximity is driving him mad, his mind clouded by primal desires he's trying to keep in check.

He bites his lip, his knuckles turning white as he grips the edge of the counter, trying to maintain his composure. His eyes flutter shut for a moment before he opens them again, his gaze fixed on your every move.

You step back, with the glasses in hand. “We could watch a movie?” you prompt as you pour some wine into the cups, silently enjoying the way he reacted to your touch.

He nods, his mind still racing as he tries to calm his racing thoughts and the growing hardness in his pants. "Yeah, a movie sounds good," he mutters, his voice coming out a bit more hoarse than he'd liked.

As you pour the wine, his eyes follow your every move, the way your fingers grip the bottle, the way the liquid flows into the glasses. It's all too tantalizing for him. "What do you feel like watching?" He asks, trying to keep his voice level and casual.

“How about you choose?” you hand him a glass, taking yours in hand along with the bottle as you walk into the living room. Taking a seat down on the couch you sip on the wine, your eyes follow his every move, drinking in his muscular form.

He tries to stay composed, forcing himself to look away and focus on the task at hand. Clark walks over to the DVD collection and scans the titles, his mind unfocused and his thoughts still lingering on you. After a moment of browsing, he picks a movie at random, inserting it into the player.

"All set." He says, returning to the couch and taking a seat beside you. You pull at the hem of your shirt, trying to prevent it from riding up too much while taking another sip of your drink.

“Great.” you smile, sucking your lip between your teeth as you admire his side profile. He can't help but notice the way you fidget with your shirt, the action drawing his mind to places he shouldn't be going at the moment.

He struggles to keep his eyes focused on the screen, his gaze keeping wandering over to you, admiring your features and the way the fabric clings to your body. Clark takes a long sip from his glass, the alcohol doing little to calm his racing thoughts and desires. He shifts in his seat, trying to discreetly adjust himself as his jeans grow even tighter.

“Is everything alright?” you notice his movements and set your cup on the coffee table, scooting slightly closer to him. His eyes widen slightly as you move closer, the proximity sending a fresh wave of desire through him. He swallows hard, his throat suddenly dry.

"Yeah," he responds, his voice a little hoarse. "Everything's fine, just...adjusting." He glances over at you, his gaze lingering on your figure, his eyes tracing over the curves where your shirt clings to you, the way your position inadvertently exposes more skin.

“Clark?” your knee brushes against his thigh as you scoot closer. He stiffens as your knee brushes against him, the casual touch sending a jolt through him. He can feel his heart pounding in his chest, his hands gripping the edge of the couch as he tries to maintain his composure.

When he hears his name, the way you say it, so soft and gentle, almost a whisper, it sends a shiver down his spine. He looks over at you, his eyes locking with yours, his gaze intense and filled with desire. "Yeah?" He manages to respond, his voice a bit shaky.

“Are you.. seeing anyone?” you chew on your cheek as you search his eyes. At your question, a mixture of surprise and uncertainty crosses his face. He holds your gaze, his eyes searching yours for any hint of insincerity.

"No," he says finally, his voice steady and sincere. "I'm not seeing anyone." He swallows, his nerves getting the better of him as he wonders where this conversation is going. He can't help but feel a flicker of hope and anxiety at the same time.

Your eyes light up as you press a hand to his thigh, “Then… well I hope i’m not misreading the situation,” you murmur, leaning in to press a soft kiss to his lips. It's unexpected, but oh so welcome.

His eyes widen for a brief moment, before closing as he melts into the kiss. Every cell in his body seems to come alive, the taste of your lips on his sending him into a dizzying spiral of emotions.

His hand comes up to cup your jaw, his touch gentle as he leans into the kiss, deepening it as he loses himself in the moment. His tongue brushes over your bottom lip as he presses his chest against yours, pushing your back into the plush fabric of your couch.

Your bodies meld together, your back sinking into the cushion as he bears down on you. His tongue teases your lip, requesting entry which you give him without hesitation.

His heart races as he feels the soft give of your body against his chest, the heat and pressure of your bodies mingling together.

His hand runs over your side, his touch gentle but firm as it moves over the curves of your body, his hand sneaking under the fabric of your shirt, needing to feel your skin against his. You lean back, gasping for air as his fingers explore your body.

He takes your gasp as an opportunity to trail his lips along your jaw, his breath hot against your skin as he nips and kisses his way down your neck.

His hand moves under your shirt, slowly, his fingertips dancing across your bare skin, mapping out each contour and dip of your body. He groans softly against your throat as he feels your warm, supple flesh under his fingers. You feel so good against him, it's almost overwhelming.

“Clark..” you gasp his name as he unbuttons your shirt swiftly. He loves the way you say his name, the sound of it coming from your lips making his own name sound like a prayer.

He unfastens the buttons of your shirt, revealing more and more of your body to his hungry eyes. He peels back the fabric, his hands roaming over your now-exposed skin, his fingers tracing over your stomach and up to your chest.

He presses his mouth to your collarbone, his teeth grazing over the sensitive skin, tasting your scent, committing it to memory. “Clark..” you moan his name again, your fingers digging into his shoulders as he kisses down your chest, hands landing on your breasts.

His name slips from your lips again, the sound like a sweet melody in his ears. He can feel the pressure of your fingers on his shoulders, the touch driving his desire even higher.

His mouth travels down your chest, his kisses feather light and seductive as he moves over your breasts. His hands follow his mouth, palms cupping your breasts as he starts to massage the soft flesh.

He moans against your skin, his touch almost reverent. His body thrums with an aching need, the desire to be closer to you nearly overwhelming as he captures your lips in another hungry kiss. He cups your breasts in his hands, his fingers kneading the supple flesh as they press into your skin. His touch is soft but firm, his hands large enough to cover them completely

Clark pulls back slightly, breaking the kiss but keeping his eyes locked with yours. His breath is ragged, his chest heaving with anticipation. He can feel your heart racing beneath his palms as he gently caresses your breasts. "Are you sure about this?" He whispers, his voice thick with desire. "I don't want to rush you." His eyes search yours for any sign of hesitation or doubt.

You smile up at him, placing a soft hand on his cheek. "I've never been more sure about anything in my life," you reply, your voice barely above a murmur. The sincerity in your tone sends a thrill through him, confirming that this is what you both want.

He nods, his expression serious as he leans back down to kiss you again. This time, the kiss is slower, more deliberate. He savors the taste of you, the feel of your body pressed against his. His hand slides up to the back of your neck, cradling it as he deepens the kiss, exploring every inch of your mouth with his tongue.

As the kiss lingers, he slowly starts to unbutton the rest of your shirt, taking his time to reveal each new inch of your skin. His eyes never leave yours, watching for any signs of discomfort or hesitation. You melt into him, your own hands sliding up to tangle in his hair as the fabric of your shirt falls away.

The moment your skin is fully exposed, the air in the room seems to crackle with tension. He leans down to press a line of soft, wet kisses along your collarbone, feeling your body shiver beneath his touch. He takes a moment to just look at you, his eyes filled with a mix of awe and desire. "You're so beautiful," he murmurs, his voice low and rough.

Your cheeks flush with pleasure as he says the words, his eyes devouring your exposed flesh. He takes his time, kissing and caressing every inch of your body, his hands moving in a slow, tantalizing dance that leaves you trembling with need. Each touch is a promise of what's to come, each kiss a declaration of his desire for you.

The room is filled with the sound of your mingled breaths and the soft whispers of your names on each other's lips. The anticipation is almost unbearable, but you both know that the slow burn of this moment is only making the fire between you grow hotter.

Clark finally takes one of your nipples into his mouth, suckling gently as he rolls the other between his thumb and forefinger. You arch your back, gasping at the sensation, your hands tightening in his hair. He teases and worships each peak, his tongue swirling and flicking, drawing out your moans of pleasure.

As you lay there, the warmth of his mouth on your skin, the softness of the couch beneath you, and the gentle pressure of his body above, you can't help but feel that this is exactly where you're meant to be. With each tender kiss and caress, he's claiming you, and you're willingly giving yourself to him.

The movie on the TV becomes background noise as the only thing that matters is the connection growing stronger between you both. His kisses trail down your stomach, his hands skimming over your hips to the waistband of your underwear.

He kisses the skin just above the waistband, the heat of his breath making you squirm. "I want to make this perfect for you," he murmurs, his eyes looking up at you for approval. You nod, unable to form words as your breath catches in your throat.

He takes his time, pulling down your underwear in one smooth motion, exposing your most intimate parts to his gaze. His eyes darken with desire as he looks at you, but he keeps his touches feather-light, his mouth hovering just above your skin without making contact.

Clark takes a deep breath, savoring the moment as he gazes down at your exposed body. He gently kisses the soft skin of your inner thighs, moving closer to the apex of your legs. His eyes are filled with a fiery hunger that makes your heart race even faster. He presses a soft kiss to your mound, feeling you tense up at the contact.

Then, with a gentle caress, he parts your legs wider, his gaze never leaving yours. You can see the desire in his eyes, and it only fuels the fire burning within you. With a soft sigh, he lowers his mouth to you, his tongue tracing the seam of your folds with the lightest touch. You moan, your body trembling as he starts to explore you, taking his time to learn every curve and sensitive spot.

Each touch is a declaration of his intention to worship you, to take things slow and savor every second of this shared intimacy. His fingers join his mouth, gently teasing and exploring, bringing you closer to the edge with every stroke. The room is filled with the sounds of your mingled breaths and soft whimpers, the only soundtrack to this passionate symphony of desire.

Clark continues his gentle exploration, his tongue circling your clit with a patience that borders on agonizing. He's not in a hurry; he wants to savor every moment of this, to make sure you feel loved and desired. His fingers slide into your wetness, curling gently as he begins to stroke you internally, matching the rhythm of his tongue.

You can't help but whimper, your eyes squeezed shut as the sensations build within you. He's so attentive, so in tune with your body's responses that you feel like you're floating on a cloud of pure pleasure. Each kiss, each caress is a testament to the connection growing between you, and you know that this is just the beginning of a night that will change everything.

Clark's eyes never leave yours as he shifts his position, aligning his body with yours. His hand moves to guide himself, and with a gentle nod from you, he begins to press into you. His movements are slow and deliberate, his expression one of intense concentration as he tries to read your every reaction. You can feel the tip of him pushing against your entrance, the anticipation of what's to come making you squirm.

As he enters you, he whispers sweet nothings into your ear, his voice a soothing balm to the building passion. He's so big, so thick, but he's so gentle that it's almost a surprise when he's fully sheathed inside you. You gasp, your eyes flying open, and he stills, giving you a moment to adjust to the sensation of being filled by him.

He waits, his eyes searching yours for any sign of pain or discomfort. When he sees none, he starts to move, his hips rocking in a slow, steady rhythm that makes your toes curl. Each thrust is met with a soft moan from your lips, his name slipping from your mouth like a prayer as he fills you completely.

The feeling of him inside you is unlike anything you've ever experienced. It's as if your bodies are made for this, as if every inch of him is meant to be connected to every inch of you. You wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him closer, your hands sliding down to grip his firm ass as he moves within you.

The room seems to spin around you, the only constant is the feeling of him, the sound of your hearts beating in sync. He kisses you again, his movements becoming more urgent as the passion takes over. You can feel him thickening, growing even more inside you, and you know that he's getting closer to the edge.

You whisper for him to go faster, to give you more, and he responds eagerly, his strokes deepening and quickening. Your body responds in kind, your hips rising to meet his, the friction between you building until it's almost unbearable. You're both so close, the tension coiled tight in your stomachs, ready to snap.

And then, with one final, deep thrust, it does. You cry out, your body arching off the couch as wave after wave of pleasure crashes over you. He follows shortly after, his own release shaking his body as he buries his face in the crook of your neck, his breath hot and ragged against your skin.

For a moment, you just lay there, your bodies entwined, your hearts racing. Then, with a soft sigh, he pulls back, his eyes searching yours for any signs of regret. But all he sees is pure satisfaction, a mirror to what's reflected in his own gaze. He leans down to kiss you gently, a soft promise of more to come.

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jinxbabys · 3 months ago

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cw: sub-bottom vi. pervy fem-reader. masturbation. voyeurism? strap-on referred to as cock. 1k words. men and minors dni.

synopsis: you masturbate to the sounds of vi getting fucked.

you assumed vi would be the one doing the fucking. she has those smoldering blue eyes, bad girl persona, inked skin, domineering and sarcastic humor. so you’re surprised when you get home at half past two, exhausted from a late shift, only to hear the rhythmic creak of vi’s bed frame through thin walls.

frustration flickers first—so much for a good night’s sleep—but beneath it, curiosity stirs. vi never has girls over when you’re home. did she forget what time you said you’d be getting off work? is she so desperate for an orgasm that she just doesn’t care?

that’s when you hear it—soft at first, but unmistakable. vi is whining—breathless, whimpering like a bitch, blubbering about how much her pussy is being stretched.

”unghh! t-too big, holy fuck—it’s too big!”

your stomach tightens, heat coiling low in your belly, and the wind is promptly knocked out of your lungs.

you shouldn’t be listening to this. you should walk away, crawl into bed, put your earbuds in—do anything else—have some respect for your roommate. but your feet move of their own accord, carrying you closer to vi’s bedroom door, slow and heavy. there’s a weightlessness to your steps, like you’re drifting through a dream, disoriented and hazy from exhaustion—or maybe it’s something else entirely. maybe it’s the thought of vi getting her cunt fucked open in the next room over.

”please—fuck, please—slow down, i can’t—!”

vi, begging? you almost don’t believe it. she’s ordinarily so self-assured, so bossy—giving orders, not taking them, and certainly not asking.

there’s a muffled response, low and firm, but you can’t make out the words. whatever’s said only makes vi whine louder, high in her throat, like the bleat of a baby lamb. the sound is impossibly needy—it‘s whorish and raw, so utterly vulnerable, and unlike any noise you’ve heard vi make before—and, guiltily, you realize there’s a sharp pulse of heat ringing through your clit, molten-hot desire buzzing underneath your skin.

”i’m gonna—gonna cum again, unghhh! shit, shit, shit! baby, please—“

belatedly, you realize just how loud vi’s being, and it poses the question; is this why vi never brings girls home when you’re around? maybe it was never about privacy, but instead, so you wouldn’t hear the way they fuck her until she cries? how she squeals like a pig every time their cock bottoms out against her cervix? how she breaks under the right touch?

a sharp slap cuts through the air—skin against skin—and vi yelps. your mind races instantaneously. you picture her hookup smacking their hand against her pert ass, and the thought alone fans the flames of your imagination. is vi on her hands and knees, getting fucked like a dog, while her fat, round ass ripples from how roughly she’s being used? are her ass cheeks covered in red handprints? is she going cross-eyed and brainless from how well her pussy is being filled?

the bed frame slams against the wall, hard enough to rattle a picture frame in the hallway, and you nearly moan aloud at the thought of vi being pounded into the mattress—with zero mercy, at that. the imagery of it all is so vivid, so obscene, that you don’t even think—your hand is already slipping past the waistband of your pants.

fuck, you need this. it’ll be fine. vi will never know.

your hole is already immensely slick where your index finger dips inside. you drag a wet, sticky line up to your clit and apply teasing pressure—enough to make you shudder.

“hnnggfff—fuck, fuuuuck! ahh, ahh, ahh!”

vi’s keens are like a siren’s call, drawing you closer, until you have your ear pressed against her door like a degenerate. everything is clearer now—the sharp hitch of vi’s breath, the schlick sound her cunt makes as it sucks on their cock, the plap, plap, plap of vi’s ass colliding against their bare skin. it has your cunt leaking like a sieve into your underwear.

and, god—her ass.

you’ve seen the way vi’s ass looks in her airtight jeans, how it jiggles against the cotton fabric of her workout shorts, but you’ve never witnessed it bare. it would be unequivocally pornographic, you imagine—the fatty tissue of her bubble butt rippling as her cunt is repeatedly fucked open. everything in you aches to just crack the door open and gently peak inside, to see it for yourself.

with your head tilted close to the door, you catch the wet, deliberate sounds of vi’s hookup kissing along her neck—most definitely sucking dark marks onto her pale skin. a sick part of you feels unbearably jealous at the prospect of vi being covered in someone else’s claim, but your pussy gets wetter when you hear the way vi whines in response—high and nasally.

she must have such a sensitive neck. you can almost see it—her squirming on their cock, torn between pulling away and pressing closer to the tingly sensation, how she shivers when their tongue traces the love bites.

abruptly, vi squeals like she’s been scorned, all pitchy and girlish, ”ahhh, you’re so—deep! deep in my fucking stomach—hnnghhh!”

every muffled plea she makes burrows deep under your skin like a thorn. your tender clit thrums with a solemn ache, yearning with a quiet, insistent need. your pussy is crying out for vi, desperate for her in a way that almost feels unbearable.

but how will you ever be able to look at vi the same after this? after you know how raspy her whines are while she has her pussy played with? how she gasps like a balloon losing air—staccato and squeaky—while her tiny hole is stuffed to the brim?

every sound she makes stabs right into your core and you finger the little bundle of nerves faster, rubbing your clit with the urgency of a flame flickering in the wind. you feel fuckdrunk and high off their sex, despite being an unbidden listener.

and, albeit quickly, vi orgasms again—

“i’m—i’m cumming! ohhh, ohhhh, fuck! mmmghhh!”

it’s as if you’re tethered to her, like a switch flipping inside you, because you follow in suit, coming in harsh, overwhelming waves. you’re gasping and squirming like a fish out of water, trying to muffle your noises behind the palm of your hand, while your other hand cups your crying pussy.

your legs tremble, weak and unsteady, like a baby calf’s and you barely manage to stay upright as you ride out the rest of your release. somewhere in the haze, you register the damp heat between your thighs, how utterly soaked your underwear is.

once your orgasm subsides, clarity sets in—how could you do such a thing? you’re standing with your ear pressed against vi’s door, fingers sticky and pruned, realizing you just got off to the sound of your roommate being fucked. shame and exhilaration twist in your chest like a pretzel.

but even then, vi’s moans linger in your mind like a ghost. shame prickles at the edges of your pleasure, but so does something else—something darker, and your fingers twitch with the urge to do it all over again.

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cowgirlvi · 4 months ago

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Thinking of sub Jinx with an equally submissive reader, and with a double ended dildo, and they both are completely overstimulated, whimpering and sobbing against eachother, but can't bring themselves to stop... ;)

mdni. sub-bottom jinx. sub-bottom fem-reader. sex toys. vaginal sex. unintentional edging. short drabble.

jinx masterlist

you thought it would be fun—the perfect compromise—buying a double-ended dildo so you and jinx could be fucked together, lost in the same pleasure. you’d tried fucking her before but you never had the drive, the dominance, to make her take it, to push her over the edge. and jinx was no better; she always got jealous when your hole was getting more attention than hers.

now, the lengthy, pink dildo is stuffed inside your cunt as far as it can manage, harshly stabbing into your cervix, but you find pleasure in the pain. and jinx is mewling all the while; making little desperate, frustrated noises, trying to fuck the dildo faster inside her own pussy, but it’s hard to manage—hard to find a steady rhythm, with the way you both pause to catch your breath at uncoordinated intervals.

”unghh, baby—need more,” you mewl, and you’re making small, weak sounds—burrowing into the crook of her neck, humping the toy further inside your cunt.

the way jinx clenches around the toy is barely perceptible, but you feel it—tiny, involuntary spasms as she tries to drive it deeper. you can feel the way her greedy cunt slightly pulls the toy from your hole, stuffing more inches inside her own.

jinx has never been good at sharing. neither has her pussy.

”faster, go faster—fuck!” she keens, nails digging crescents into your skin, and she’s whining high in her throat.

you try, rolling your hips with growing urgency, but your rhythm inevitably falters. the pleasure is too much, too raw, building and breaking apart in uneven waves. your pussy is so sensitive, even the slightest movement is too overwhelming for you. you need someone to hold you down and force you to take it, but jinx won’t do that; she needs to be made to take it too.

it’s a dilemma—both of you craving control and the loss of it, stuck in a push and pull cycle.

you start crying—thick, salty tears rolling down your cheeks and splashing onto jinx’s skin. it feels so good, but it’s nowhere near enough. your pussy is crying too, dribbling copious amounts of slick out of your little hole with nowhere to go.

”jeez, such a crybaby,” jinx says, frustrated and out of patience, brows creasing while she’s shifting, searching for the perfect spot, and then—

when she tilts her hips just right, sparks shoot through your core, and you’re desperate to chase that sensation—finally getting somewhere after edging each other for hours.

“oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck,” you’re whimpering, gasping like a balloon losing air; squeaky and staccato.

ironically, jinx then sobs wetly, holding your hips still so she can just take, take, take.

you’re pressed so close that the toy is entirely swallowed up by both your cunts. jinx is writhing against you like a fish on a hook, using your pussy to get off, while your pleasure is merely an afterthought to her. she’s humping against you—against the toy—with clumsy, desperate rolls of her hips, like a misbehaving puppy.

you’re so close, teetering on the edge, and you’re sure jinx is right there with you, if her whorish moans are anything to go by—until you adjust, just slightly, and then you lose the perfect spot; the one that had you both crying, finally scratching the itch that’s been under your skin for hours.

jinx makes a sharp, frustrated snivel, her fingers tightening against your skin as she tries to guide you back. but it’s too late. the moment has slipped through your fingers like sand, and now you’re both aching, desperate, while your orgasms die down again.

“god, mmphh, fuck—“ you gasp, thighs trembling, but every movement feels off, like you’re grasping at something just out of reach. jinx’s breath is ragged beneath you, panting like a dog, and it’s driving you insane.

“do something,” she pleads, raspy and needy. jinx doesn’t push, doesn’t take; she needs it just as bad as you do, but neither of you can force the other over the edge. you’re both trapped—too far gone to stop, yet nowhere near close enough to finish.

you press your foreheads together, panting, skin damp with sweat, and you move—slow, uncoordinated, but determined. so close together that your clits catch, the friction sending a shockwave through you. you can feel the large pink cock reaching deep inside your guts, can feel it in your throat.

“don’t stop,” she huffs.

you nod eagerly like a good little bitch—obedient and mindless—gripping onto her as if that’ll keep you grounded, as if it’ll bring you comfort against the overwhelming pleasure building in your pussy.

you push through the oversensitivity, the ache deep inside your cunt, the maddening need—and then, you find it again, finally. that perfect spot, that devastating friction. your bodies move in tandem—helpless, grinding, writhing—lost in the feeling of being stuffed full of cock, until it crashes over you both.

jinx comes first, back arching like a bow string drawn too tight, locking her legs around you, holding you there as she shatters. she’s mewling like a kitten the entire time, pathetic and whiny and relieved. her tongue lolls out dumbly, her eyes are hazy, and she looks like a picture of debauchery.

”hnghh—pussy feels so, ahh, good, baby,” you moan, and unsurprisingly, you’re coming against her cunt too, riding out your orgasm in helpless, messy rolls of your hips.

jinx is flinching away from your pussy, flinching away from the cock being pressed deeper inside her stomach—but you can’t find it in yourself to care. you need to come too, after all.

just a little more, just a little longer, until your orgasm subsides. you collapse on top of jinx, panting into her skin, entirely fucked-out; a pile of two needy sluts.

taglist; @marvelwomenarehot0 @marieeeluvsyou @mxchi-mxxn @el-amor-que-tu-quieres @jinxvex @teddybearbutch28 @stupendousbananasharkcop @nahcala @ellieslob @idontwannabehereatm @rhian88 @kyur1jinx @absfemme @blackdykegirlblogger @thatgrlnany @imfckngfantastic @addison12459 @f3ralpuppyg1rl @prettyprincess19 @saphhvi @vixxxxxxxen @jinxedbambi @dreamyraincloud @just4jinx @caninecutiez @skizzrkit @urjnxedd

(3/7/25)

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hopelesslygaysstuff · 5 months ago

Text

𝑇ℎ𝑒 𝐵𝑜𝑜𝑘 𝐶𝑙𝑢𝑏

pairing: wanda maximoff x fem!reader

summary: Your neighbor and friend, Wanda Maximoff, invites you to her book club. The book they're reading is, well, erotic. It sparks something in you, and you find yourself growing closer with your neighbor, in a surprising way.

content warnings: smut, improper use of a book, spanking, fingering, cunnilingus

word count: 6.2k+

masterlist

comments and reblogs are always appreciated! happy reading ♡

The rose petals are soft beneath your fingertips, your mind adrift as you tend to the vibrant bushes near your door. The faint scent of lawn clippings hangs in the air, dulled slightly by the thick heat lazily wrapping around you, an occasional breeze brushing by to dry the back of your damp neck. You glance at the lemonade sitting on your front steps, your mouth watering slightly at the thought of drinking the refreshing beverage.

You clip a slightly dead branch of your rose bush, discarding it in the small, steadily growing pile nearby. There hasn’t been a rain shower in a few weeks, so you’ve been diligent about watering your bushes, but even you can’t beat the arid heat that settles on your town. It’s all anyone can talk about; the endless heat at the height of summer causing kids and adults alike to flock to the brand-new water park in the heart of town.

Ice clinks as you finally cave, reaching over to sip the lemonade through a straw. The taste explodes in your mouth, and you let out a soft sound of relief as the sugar perks you back up. Your fingers slip slightly on the condensation steadily sweating from the cold glass, and you begin to seriously consider retreating back inside to sit in front of your fan.

“Hey, neighbor,” a friendly voice calls out, and you recognize the honeyed tone immediately.

Your head jerks up, your cheeks flushing as you recall the dirt smeared on your knees, and you’re acutely aware of the loose strands of hair sticking to your forehead. You raise your free hand awkwardly, praying you’re not waving too enthusiastically at your neighbor.

Wanda had been your neighbor ever since you’d moved in a few months ago, and she’d immediately taken you under her care. It was endearing, really, to have someone care about you while you adjusted to a new city.

“Hi, Wanda,” you called out, your voice cracking slightly. You could see the older woman smile, her red hair cascading over her back as she walked around her bushes and towards you. You hide your nervousness, sucking on your straw like it is a lifeline, your pulse quickening as she draws nearer.

Oh god, you probably smell so bad. You’ve been out in the sun for hours, sweating under the sweltering sun, your deodorant having lost its potency ten minutes into your battle with the rose bushes. You’re acutely aware of the sweat dripping down your temple, your eyebags showing since you’d decided not to use concealer this morning, not wanting to have it melt right off your face in the heat.

“What on earth are you doing out in the heat on a day like this?” Wanda asks, smiling at you and shielding her face from the sun as she looks down at your still-kneeling form. The faint scent of vanilla drifts over to you, and you wet your lips slightly, your straw making a loud sound as you realize you’ve finished the last of your lemonade. You sense that she doesn’t want a response, her words more of a statement than an actual question, a subtle chide at your ability to make rational decisions in the summer heat.

Helplessly, you gesture towards your rose bushes, your eyes quickly spotting the petals that are slowly wilting, standing out against the vibrant colors.

“Oh, sweetheart,” Wanda says, tilting her head as she examines your rose bushes, “I think they look beautiful. Now, why don’t you invite me inside for a cup of that delicious-looking lemonade, hm?”

Flustered, you stand quickly, gripping your glass and muttering a quick, “Of course,” before holding the door open and ushering the woman inside.

Wanda walks straight into your kitchen, sighing slightly at the cool breeze from your AC unit working overtime. Her green eyes find yours, crinkling at the edges as she smiles at you. Smiling back slightly, you rush to the fridge, pulling out the pitcher of lemonade you’d made and pouring a generous amount into one of your fancy glasses.

“What is a sweet girl like you doing outside working in this heat?” Wanda asks, taking the cup from you. You can’t stop looking at the way her red-tinted lips wrap around the straw as she sips. “Shouldn’t that boy of yours be helping you?”

“Who?”

“The boy with the long hair and the flannel,” Wanda says, her tone slightly off. You recall the other weekend when you’d invited your coworker to the neighborhood barbecue. Wanda had been more touchy with you that night for some reason, her eyes looking at your coworker with light suspicion; you didn’t really mind, assuming she was looking out for you. You can tell that she’s poking around with her words, a hidden question behind them, and you’re all too happy to set the record straight for her.

“Oh, Jared? No, he’s just a friend,” you say, hoping that your tone is casual. It sounds far too high-pitched, but Wanda relaxes slightly at your words, smiling brightly at you as her fingernails clink on the side of her glass.

“Ah,” she mutters, raising her eyebrows slightly, “A friend.”

The silence stretches for an awkward beat before you feel the urge to explain yourself. To get rid of the crushing feeling between your ribcage as Wanda studies you, her head tilted slightly. “No, truly, he is just a friend. We met at work and now we kind of hang out outside of work. I don’t know, it’s just… friends hanging out and stuff. I don’t like boys- or, I mean, him like that.” The words spew from you like a messy word vomit, the letters and syllables all jumbled together as you try to string together a coherent sentence.

Chuckling, Wanda reaches out, her fingers gently touching your cheek. Her fingertips are cold against your skin, and you realize that you’re flushed. You pop your straw back into your mouth, your teeth gnawing slightly on the plastic as you distract yourself.

“I know what boys want from a pretty girl like you,” Wanda says. It feels like an intimate sort of statement, but her tone is far too bright, an air of casualness forcing its way into the sentence as you awkwardly laugh at her words.

“Well, you don’t have to worry about that,” you say, unsure of why you’re reassuring her. “I’m not interested in Jared, like that.”

“Hmm, good,” Wanda nods as she speaks, an air of finality in her words. You assume the conversation is over, your eyes trailing over her blouse, respectfully avoiding looking near her chest, as the fabric dipped quite low. You supposed it made sense, given the heat, but the last thing you wanted to do was make your neighbor uncomfortable.

Wanda didn’t mind. After all, she’d chosen this blouse with the low v-cut on purpose, watching you through the window while making finger sandwiches for Billy and Tommy. You’d been working so hard, your arm muscles showing as you pulled weeds and clipped your rose bush, that she couldn’t help but venture over to your lawn. After all, the boys enjoyed their cartoons on a lazy Saturday afternoon, and your muscles had looked quite striking as you worked in that sinfully thin tanktop of yours.

“Say,” Wanda exclaims suddenly, your eyes snapping up from where they’d been lingering around the exposed skin of her stomach. “You like reading, don’t you?”

Your eyes light up, and Wanda’s teeth gleam as she smiles brightly at you. She remembers you talking her ear off about a book you’d read, her mind wandering to the animated way your hands had moved while speaking. She’d nodded at all the right places, asking you questions occasionally, her attention focused on the way your face shifted into genuine enthusiasm as you spoke.

“I run this book club,” Wanda says, shrugging as though it was no big deal, her eyes flitting up to yours to gauge your reaction. “We meet on Friday at my house, when the boys leave for the weekend at their father’s place, if you’d be interested.”

It’s been a while since you’ve had a consistent friend group or even just a group of people to hang out with. Wanda knows this; you’ve talked about it a few times, when you’ve had a few too many glasses of wine, your face flushed and your eyes dark and wide as you lean into her friendly touch.

“I would love to come!” You bite your lip as you hide a wide smile, containing your obvious excitement at the idea. “What book are you reading?”

“Ah, well,” Wanda ducks her head, peeking up at you through her lashes. It’s the perfect picture of innocence. “I’m not sure if you’d be interested in this specific book.”

“Please tell me,” you beg, setting your lemonade aside as you lean closer to her. You’ve been searching for some new books, even asking Wanda for recommendations. It’s almost cruel, the way she hesitates before answering, her eyes focused solely on your reaction.

Wanda finally tells you, watching as you immediately pull out your phone to search for the name of the book. Her eyes are sharp, gauging your reaction as you quickly skim the description. She can’t tell if you’re blushing more than usual, the book is a lesbian romance, but you don’t seem to mind as you look up and smile at her.

“Can I borrow your book for the meeting on Friday?”

And that’s that. Wanda agrees, of course, her mind racing as she watches you smile and talk about how much you’ve been looking forward to reading books with other people, your words jumbling together in your excitement. You’re leaning closer to her as you speak, your eyes sparkling and lips moving a mile a minute. Wanda takes another sip of the sugary lemonade, glancing at your lips as she wonders if you taste just as sweet.

God, she can’t wait until Friday.

—

You’re nervous, your hands fiddling with the loose threads of your shirt as you walk up the pristine walkway to Wanda’s front door. God, you’ve knocked plenty of times before, but this time it feels… nervewracking.

Truly, you aren’t used to meeting new people. Most of the time, others approach you, starting conversations and inviting you into their lives. It had never been the other way around, and the mere thought of putting yourself out there made your palms sweat and your feet develop an urge to run.

Before you can give yourself a pep talk, your fingers trembling as you reach for the doorbell, the door unlocks, startling you. The first thing Wanda sees when she swings the door open is your wide eyes, her eyes softening when she takes in your tense form. She can tell you’re a few wrong words away from bolting back to your house with a poorly mumbled excuse.

“Oh, sweetheart, I didn't mean to startle you,” she says, and suddenly her hands are all over you, distracting you from the nervousness building steadily within you. Wanda’s hands pull you inside, gently squeezing your arms before wrapping slightly around your waist, her touch insistent as heat spreads through your body wherever her fingers make contact. She can feel you relaxing slightly, your expression opening up as she talks your ear off, telling you that their book club is quite small, but you’ll help grow their numbers as she ushers you into the living room.

“Is that a rabbit?” The words are out of your mouth before you can stop them, your face going slightly red as your eyes widen. There’s a white rabbit munching on some cucumbers, its nose twitching and ears swiveling towards you as you shuffle in your socks on the carpet. Your eyes catch the long fingers gently stroking its fur, moving up to land on the face of a striking brunette.

“This is Señor Scratchy,” the woman says, her blue eyes glinting slightly as she looks you up and down. “You must be Wanda’s new pe-”

“Agatha,” Wanda interrupts, smiling tightly for a moment before she glances at you. “Be nice to our newest member.”

Smirking, Agatha just wiggles her fingers at you, her eyes crinkling at the corners. You wonder what she was going to say that caused Wanda to speak so abruptly, but she turns her head before you can ask. Following her eyeline, you smile awkwardly at the woman who enters through the doorway, her hands full as she balances four mugs on a tray.

“Oh good, coffee,” Wanda says, ushering you onto the couch and slipping her copy of this week's book into your hands.

A steaming mug is placed before you, Wanda pouring a bit of milk and dropping three sugar cubes into your coffee, just the way you like it. You would blush at the attentiveness, but you’re too focused on the way the woman with the tray settles down next to Agatha, her hands caressing her shoulders for a moment. Agatha’s blue eyes are locked on you as she pulls the other woman’s legs onto her lap.

“Nice to meet you, fresh meat,” the woman says, her smile sharp. She does not offer her name.

Agatha cackles slightly, patting the woman’s legs as she takes in your wide-eyed look. “Rio, my love, you’ve scared Wanda’s… friend.”

They’re testing you, that much is obvious. Wanda’s hand is hovering near her mug, her eyes cutting towards the women on the couch opposite from you. Agatha is peering at you from under her lashes, her hands still massaging Rio’s legs, the rabbit having jumped to the floor the moment the other woman entered the room. You can hear him munching in the silence.

Rio, well, she stares at you openly, her eyes a bit too wide.

“Well,” you say, clearing your throat as you take a sip of your coffee to give your hands something to do. “It’s very nice to meet you, Agatha and Rio.” You nod at each of them as you say their name. Hopefully, they don’t hear your voice wavering. “This seems like a fun group for a book club.”

“Oooh, I like her,” Rio murmurs, smiling widely at you. It sends goosebumps crawling down the back of your neck, but you bravely smile back, feeling your lips tremble.

Wanda claps her hands once, letting out a breath of air as she brings attention back to the topic at hand. “We’ve started the book, but we’re only a few chapters in so far. Agatha, why don’t you catch her up?”

Suffice to say, Agatha is excellent at summarizing. You understand the first few chapters well enough, and you blush when she mentions the hot older lesbian the main character is pining over, winking at Rio. You begin to wonder about the nature of their relationship, but decide that it’s none of your business.

“I’m looking forward to the next few chapters,” Rio says offhandedly. “I’ve heard they get steamy, just the way I like my books.”

“Naughty girl,” Agatha murmurs, then most of your previous questions are cleared up as Rio grabs the back of her neck and kisses the woman solidly.

You can feel Wanda looking at you from the corner of your eye, and you hope she doesn’t take your awkward fidgeting the wrong way. After all, it’s not like you could easily explain the warm feeling spreading through your body at the sight of them kissing, your nose hyper-aware of Wanda’s warm vanilla perfume wafting over to you.

“So, do they do this often?” You ask, smiling slightly and injecting sarcasm into your tone as you bravely turn to face Wanda. She looks slightly relieved, an easy smile curling her lips at the corners as you both hear a scoff from the other couch.

“Got a problem with it, sweetheart?” Agatha drawls, her blue eyes piercing. Rio is wrapped around her, reminding you of a large snake coiling around their prey, and you shake your head.

“Of course not, I’m just questioning if you actually talk about the book during these meetings, or if you just make out. That can’t be productive, and I truly do like talking about books…”

Wanda laughs beside you, one of her hands landing on your knee as she does so. You don’t mind, needing the extra support as your bravery fades slightly once you’ve said your piece. Agatha is chuckling and when you risk looking at Rio’s face, she’s smirking slightly at you.

“I bet you’d like that,” Rio mutters, falling silent when Agatha shoots her a stern look.

“Don’t start, besides, she’s right. This is a book club, after all,” Agatha nods at you, picking up her book. “So, should we dive deeper into the chapters then? I’d like to discuss the hints they’re dropping about the more kinky aspects that are to come.”

Oh god, you don’t think your blush will go away for the rest of the club meeting. Wanda’s hand remains on your knee, and you don’t mind when it slowly moves up your thigh. Is it the coffee making you jittery, or something else? You don’t know, but your heart is racing and your face feels practically aflame with every word that Agatha and Rio speak.

It’s the best book club you’ve ever attended.

—

“So,” Wanda says, trailing off. Her fingers run along the edges of the book, and you watch them for a moment before meeting her eyes.

Agatha and Rio have already left with their hands hot around each other's waists, a sight you’ve grown accustomed to seeing. It’s been a few weeks, your cheeks still reddening every time someone makes a joke about the smut in the book, but you’ve grown used to the comments and the way Wanda’s hand feels on your thigh.

At first, you were worried about the implications of her actions. But, Agatha and Rio never commented on it or even looked twice at you and Wanda, their eyes were only made for each other. You’d grown comfortable with the touch, even leaning up against your neighbor at times when the discussion became passionate. Occasionally, your hand would brush against hers, your chin hovering near her shoulder as you read the passages.

Each touch felt charged, and you were glad you could explain the blush away by gesturing to the book.

“Yeah,” you say, your head ducking slightly as the silence stretches on. “So.”

“Today was interesting,” Wanda smiles, her cheeks slightly pink as her fingers spread the pages of her book. She’s referencing the smut, of course. Agatha had taken great delight in teasing you, asking you which scene was your favorite, or if you’d related strongly with one of the kinks introduced.

Forcing a chuckle, you nod. In all honesty, you’d rather not let Wanda know that you’d pictured yourself as the main character while reading the book before the meeting. Your fingers had rubbed furiously at your throbbing clit under the sheets as you read the characters making out, your thighs tightening when the older woman in the book whispered degrading things in the main character’s ear.

“I-” You begin, ducking your head and smiling. “I didn’t mind reading it but… actually discussing it?”

“What?” Wanda asks, her voice teasing. There’s a forced sort of lightness to her tone, her eyes sharp as she looks at you. “I thought it was adorable… how flustered you get.”

A chuckle escapes you, awkwardness flooding you as you think about the kinky acts the group had discussed. Rio had been bored, claiming she wanted more out of a self-proclaimed kinky book, but Agatha had shushed her as Wanda launched into an analysis of each character’s psyche.

You loved it when Wanda talked. She always had the best insights, her words well crafted. She was smart, everything she said was well thought out, and you often found yourself nodding along.

“I’m glad you think so,” you say, the words feeling thick around your tongue. Your heart is beating quickly, and you take a deep breath as you look back down at your fingers, nervously twisting together.

“Would you like to read the next chapter together?” Wanda asks, her tone light. One of her hands reaches out, resting gently on your knee. “I’m looking forward to this one.”

“Isn’t this chapter the one Rio said was really… you know,” you whisper, your knee tensing under Wanda’s touch.

“What?”

“The really dirty chapter,” you mumble, your cheeks aflame as you peer up at Wanda through your lashes. She’s smiling gently at you, her fingers still splayed out on the pages.

There’s something in her eyes that you can’t quite decipher. The hand on your knee tightens for a moment, before sliding up further as Wanda leans in. You barely hear her words, focused on how soft her hair looks and awkwardly trying not to glance at her lips as her vanilla perfume wafts under your nose. God, she smells so nice and her touch is so firm and warm and-

“I want to see your reactions when we read it,” Wanda murmurs, her lips grazing your cheek as she leans closer to whisper in your ear. “That blush of yours is just too adorable to resist.”

You force your lungs to breathe, your knuckles white from how hard you’re gripping the couch cushion. Wanda pulls back, smiling sweetly at you and patting the spot next to her. “Come, darling. Let’s read the next chapter together.”

Mindlessly, you nod as you move to sit next to her. You try to leave some space, your mind racing while also being somewhat blank at the same time. Wanda simply moves closer until her thigh is pressed against yours, her hand firmly on your thigh as she begins to read out loud in that perfect, low voice of hers.

It takes everything in you not to squirm, your bottom lip sore from how hard you’re biting it. Wanda doesn’t seem to notice, her voice calm as she reads the scene. Her hand is slowly inching up your thigh, and you feel your heart rate increasing at the thought of her feeling the heat that is surely emanating from the apex of your thighs.

“The cane whistles through the air, hitting me solidly. My body jerks forward, pain erupting on my bruised ass, but Eliza’s hand grips my hair, her voice hissing that I should be still. I listen, my brain screaming at me to comply while my body is brought closer to an orgasm, the pain turning into pleasure with each strike of the cane.”

You rest your chin on Wanda’s shoulder, your attention split between her hand squeezing your thigh and the scene she’s reading. Ignoring the wetness between your thighs, you pray that you don’t leak through your pants.

“I begin to crave the pain,” Wanda’s voice is steady as she reads, with only a slight breathiness to her tone. “I needed to submit, to let Eliza control every aspect of my pain, and with it, my pleasure.”

“I’ve always wondered how that feels,” you interrupt, your mind still thinking about the cane. You wondered if it really could cause pleasure.

Wanda pauses, her fingers squeezing your thigh for a moment before she turns toward you, lowering the book slightly. “How… what feels?”

“Oh,” you blush, clearing your throat. “The impact play. I just assume that a cane would hurt. I’ve never- well. You know.”

There’s a lingering silence, a sort of tension in the air as Wanda considers your words. She seems to be choosing her next words carefully, her fingers gripping your thigh as she sets the book down.

“Would you like to try?”

Fuck.

Wanda’s eyes are on you, and you can feel them as you stare at the book for a few moments. Working up your courage, you glance up, blinking at how dilated her pupils are, her green irises barely noticeable.

“We- I… where would we get a cane?” You ask, the words feeling a bit thick in your mouth.

Chuckling, Wanda closes the book fully and reaches up to cup your cheek. “Oh, my sweet girl, we don’t need a cane for impact play, anything will do.”

“Oh, right,” you say, feeling stupid. Your brain is full of fuzz, your thoughts muffled slightly. The only thing you can think about is the scene from the book, Wanda’s hand on your thigh moving up further and further until it’s gliding over your hips and pressing on your upper back.

You gasp slightly as Wanda bends you over her lap, her hand gentle but firm between your shoulder blades. You willingly follow her lead, your chest heaving slightly as you try to calm your racing heartbeat, resisting the urge to squirm when you feel how wet you are, the change in position thrilling.

“Is this alright?” Wanda asks, her voice warm. Her hand is gently rubbing your back, the other playing with the hair on top of your head, petting you somewhat. You don’t mind.

“Yes, I just…” you bite your lip. Wanda’s hand pauses, and you quickly speak, your chest tight and full of nerves. “You’re a really good friend and my neighbor and I don’t want to mess anything up or-”

Wanda‘s hand moves from the top of your head to cover your mouth, and you hear a shushing sound. Her other hand is slowly moving down your back, warmth spreading through your backside as she moves to caress your ass, your back arching into the touch. “Don’t worry about that sweetheart, don’t you want this?”

You stutter, nodding against her hand as your words are muffled.

“Good, because I want this too,” Wanda murmurs, and you feel a smile forming on your lips as your heart soars. She wants this too? You’ve felt so much guilt over the past few weeks, blushing when you catch her gaze and then going home to read the book and pretend you’re not imagining Wanda as the dominatrix while you read.

“Say it,” Wanda commands, her voice different. Her hand finally moves away from your lips, returning to your upper back, keeping you in place. She sounds strict, and you squirm at the words.

“I want this,” you whisper.

“Louder.”

“Fuck,” you mutter, grinding your hips into her thighs before you freeze, your eyes wide.

Wanda chuckles lowly. “You must really want this if you’re chasing your pleasure while bent over my lap. Say it, darling. I need to hear the words before I continue.”

You can’t speak, your heartbeat pounding in your ears as you listen to her. It’s already too much, your heart is overjoyed and relieved at the same time. Your thighs are slightly slick, your arousal leaking through your underwear and smearing over your sensitive skin. You pray that Wanda can't smell it.

“I want this.” A part of you hopes that your voice is strong, your conviction shining through your evident arousal. Instead, the words are shaky, your voice trembling with need.

“Good girl.”

Before you can react to the praise, a moan slipping past your lips, the air behind you changes. The book hits your ass, the solid hardcover sending an ache of pain directly to your throbbing pussy.

Your body jolts forward, your thoughts quieting in an instant. Wanda brings the book down again and again, hitting the backs of your thighs gently before increasing her force as she watches your ass jiggle from the impact. You’re a squirming, whining mess on her lap, your upper body restrained by her hand between your shoulder blades, the couch leaving indents in your cheek as you arch your back further into her touch.

It’s everything Wanda had imagined. She wants more. She wants you to beg her, to present yourself to her, to… to take everything she gives you without complaint. Your submission, your pleasure, your pain. She wants it all.

“Look at me,” Wanda says, her voice low as she tugs on your hair.

Gasping, you feel pain radiating into your skull, her fingers unrelenting as she wrenches your head back. You let out a small whimper as you meet her gaze, and she loosens her hold slightly, her fingers scratching your head in an almost apology.

“What do you want?” Wanda asks, her voice soft. She drops the book behind you, the hardcover landing with a thud. Your ass is on fire, and she begins to knead her hand into it, squeezing as you whine.

“Um,” you pant out, arching your back and pressing your ass further into her hand. You feel shame coursing through you in tandem with your burning arousal. The humiliation only sends your mind further into the vanilla-tinged fuzziness you’ve slowly been sinking into. “I want you to… fuck. Um, I want you-”

“Speak up.”

Wanda’s voice is hard, and her hand comes down on your ass harshly. Your body jolts forward at the unexpected impact, and you suppress a moan. You weren’t used to this, the image of Wanda as your nice, friendly neighbor clashing with this new, dominant persona of hers. It’s not that you didn’t like it, but your pussy was uncomfortably wet, and the ache between your thighs could only be soothed by one thing. Wanda.

“I need you, Wanda, please make me feel good,” you say, the words spewing from you as you grind your hips down against her thighs. It sounds more like a whine, your voice high-pitched as you plead, but it satisfies Wanda.

“Well,” Wanda is smiling as she releases your head, your chin hitting the couch as you suck in deep breaths. “Since you asked so politely…”

Her hands both move to your waistband, one curling under your stomach to undo the button and pull your zipper down while the other drags the fabric down your legs. She doesn’t bother to pull them fully off you, bunching them halfway down your calves.

Your skin burns where she touches you, your arousal thick in the air as her fingers roughly cup you. “Oh sweetheart, you needed this, didn’t you?”

Nodding, you bury your face in your arms, bucking back against her hand in search of some sort of relief. You’ve never felt this sort of burning need before, every fiber of your being focused on the way she feels against you.

“Don’t worry, I’ll take good care of you,” Wanda murmurs, your brain processing the words as she peels the damp fabric of your panties down your thighs.

Holy fuck, you can feel the cool air against your throbbing center. Wanda’s fingers massage the area around your glistening sex, teasing you even while her chest heaves. She sucks in a few deep breaths, her fingers inching closer to your throbbing clit.

“You sound so pretty,” Wanda murmurs, seemingly lost in a sort of trance as she watches her fingers collect your arousal. You’re whining beneath her, your hips squirming and bucking into her touch, and she feels her head spin with the rush of power she feels. This is everything she wanted from the moment she saw you, and now, she’s finally taking what’s hers.

When her fingers finally slide into you, it feels like absolute heaven. They curl perfectly, hitting your most sensitive spot as you moan into the couch cushion. Your clit throbs needily as Wanda slowly pumps her fingers deeper, your arousal coating her fingers.

“I have an idea,” Wanda says, her words slightly jarring.

“Mmmphhh,” you manage, forcing your brain to focus on her words while her fingers curl deep inside you. It’s humiliating to feel your pleasure rising as she fucks you, her fingers working you up while she speaks in a casual, conversational tone.

“We’re going to read every chapter together from now on,” Wanda begins, smiling as she watches your body. Your hips are bucking against her, your back arched. “And I’m going to demonstrate everything that happens, just so you’re able to truly understand the text.”

Wanda bends down, her lips against your ear as she speaks. “That means, darling, if Eliza fucks our main character until she passes out, I’ll be fucking you until you pass out. Understand?”

You wish you could explain the sound that tore from your lips at her words. It was something between a moan and an animalistic growl, but either way, Wanda moaned in response as she moved her fingers faster.

It was rough, her fingers pulling all the way out before slamming back into you. This side of Wanda is nothing you’ve ever seen before, and it makes you wetter than you’ve ever been. The image of your perfect neighbor and her warm smiles clashes with the harsh, unforgiving pace Wanda sets as she fucks you.

“Please,” you gasp out finally finding your voice as your fingers scrabble for purchase on the couch. You need leverage, your body limp and pliable over Wanda’s lap as she manipulates your pleasure to her satisfaction.

“Not yet,” Wanda mutters, her other hand grasping the back of your neck tightly. Before you can properly understand what’s happening, her fingers pull out roughly as she tightens her hold on the back of your neck, pulling you backward.

Your head hits the arm of the couch, Wanda’s frame looking over you before she adjusts your body, nudging your legs open with her shoulders and settling between your legs. It’s overwhelming, your hands finding purchase on her head and tangling with her hair as she sucks hickeys around your hips.

One of Wanda’s hands creeps up your stomach, sliding under your shirt and bra to grasp your breast tightly, her fingers brushing over your hard nipple.

That is the moment that you lose all sense of dignity.

“Fuck me, Wanda,” you plead, gripping her hair tightly as she moans. Her lips are near your belly button, her green eyes dark as she looks up at your wanton expression. Her fingers cruelly twist your nipple, your hips jerking up against her at the action.

“A masochist, hm?” Wanda says, her voice teasing as you nod frantically. “Perfect. You’re absolutely perfect, darling.”

Slowly, those sinfully full lips kiss down your stomach, ghosting over your clit before Wanda drags her tongue through your folds. She moans at the taste of your arousal, her chin instantly soaked.

Your hips buck up frantically, your heartbeat erratic as you chase your pleasure. You need her tongue, her fingers, anything.

“Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you.” Wanda murmurs, and you believe her. After all, she’s been taking care of you this entire time, with her homemade meals and soft smiles. You remember all of the times she invited you over to play with the twins, and her smile when you arrived at the first book club meeting. Wanda had always taken care of you, and this was no expectation.

Wanda isn’t gentle, her fingers gripping your hips tightly as she pins you down. You’re too far gone to control your body, your hips bucking and thrashing under her grip as she eats you out with fervor, Your poor little clit throbs under her tongue, whines and moans streaming from your lips when she finally wraps her lips around it and sucks.

“Oh, Wanda,” you plead, pressing her head further against you before her hand shoots out to grab your wrists, pinning them against your stomach. “Please, I need you. I’ve wanted this for so long, just… please make me cum. Oh, I’ll do anything. Just make me yours.”

Well, Wanda can’t say no to that request.

“That’s right, honey,” she coos, licking your clit as you jolt beneath her. “You’re mine. You have been ever since I first laid eyes on you. Say it... Say it and I’ll let you cum all over my tongue. Don’t you want that?”

Fuck yes, you want that.

“I’m yours.”

The orgasm that washes over you is more intense than anything you’ve ever experienced. Every sensation is heightened, Wanda’s perfume permeating your senses as her soft hair tickles your inner thighs, her fingers bruising your hips as her tongue and lips stimulate your most sensitive parts.

She’s relentless, coaxing your pleasure out with every swipe of her tongue, her moans sending vibrations through your oversensitive core. Her hand squeezes your breast, your nipple trapped helplessly between her fingers as you jerk and thrash beneath her.

A second, smaller orgasm slowly crests, pleasure washing over you as you begin to feel your muscles ache. Your hands weakly push against Wanda’s head, her tongue sliding through your folds one last time before she looks up at you, your clit throbbing with pleasure from your orgasms.

“Wow, I-” you begin, breathless as you relax into the couch cushions, your body feeling weightless.

Chuckling, Wanda sits up, wiping her chin and lips with the back of her hand. She pulls you up with her, your body molding against hers as you lean into her side, your head resting against her shoulder.

The scent of your arousal is thick in the air, your heavy breathing filling the silence as you recover. Wanda lets out a satisfied hum, her hand once again making its way to your bare thigh, her fingers squeezing. This time, the action is comforting and possessive.

“Perfect,” Wanda murmurs, and you nod your head.

“Yes,” you say, smiling at her. “You are.”

Wanda picks up the book from earlier, smoothing out the slightly crumpled page, her face flushed and green eyes bright as she rakes her gaze across your spent body. Her pupils dilate again, your clit throbbing at the look in her eyes.

“We’re not done with the chapter yet, darling.”

---

Dm or comment to be added!

Taglist: @alexawynters @msvenablesbitch @marilynthornhilllover @lifespectator @milkeeteaa @imnotawitch @marvels--slut @justabrokensunshine @dorabledewdroop @wandsmxmff @esposadejoyhuerta @captivepotato @justarandomreaderxoxo @godhatesgoodgirls @snowdrop1026 @maximoffmorale @noturlondonboy @wandaspuppy @xenaizogie @imjustvibingsworld @tobiaslut @subby-lesbian @xenaizogie @sxlfishbrokenheart @huggingkoalas @deliriosinrose @godhatesgoodgirls @yeetus-thyself @wizardofstories @wandastan-2 @undercoversoftie @the-ox-fan20

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eatingoutmen · 6 months ago

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THREESOME | feat. top!reader, unspecified!bottom male & female character.

your hands held her thighs, feeling her skin beneath your fingertips while your tongue licked and sucked her clit. making her squirm and arch her back, eliciting a soft, needy moan from her as she started rolling her hips. riding your face while you were taking your sweet time eating her out.

on the other side, he was bouncing and riding your cock, his hole clenching around your length as fucks himself on you. loud, pathetic moans escaped his lips at the sensation of your cock stretching his walls as his weeping and throbbing cock leaked pre-cum. he grasped onto your thighs for support and kept going, tthe sounds of skin smacking against skin and their shared moans filled the room.

it was like something out of your erotic fantasies. he was so full of muscle and irresistible while she was so gorgeous and alluring, and here they were—fucking themselves on you like animals.

she let out a needy whimper when your tongue swirled around her clit, teasing her a little as a shiver of pleasure ran down her spine. he was still riding your cock as if he was determined to make you cum, his pace getting more quick and sloppy because of it. his eyes rolled back when he felt your tip kissing his sweet spot, a guttural moan escaping his lips at the sensation of it.

you could feel your their orgasm approaching them and were so desperate to chase that sweet release, the way she kept grinding on your face as she moans and gasps at your tongue on her pussy and the way he was clenching around your cock tightly and riding you with abandon. it made your dick twitch in arousal and excitement.

her body convulsed on your face as she rode her high, her orgasm hitting her hard as she gushed into your mouth with a moan. triggering his climax as well, his body trembling as his cock spurted out cum, landing on your abdomen.

a groan escaped your lips as your release came in last, you emptied out your warm seed inside him. eliciting a soft gasp from him as he let out a quiet whimper, the three of you were moaning mess as your bodies were dripping with sweat. the smell of sex filling in the air as they both came crashing down on the bed, laying down as they both sandwiched you in between them.

you couldn’t but wonder off in your thoughts, smirking to yourself almost as they lay there beside you while sighing in contentment and holding you close.

this should happen again more often.

#✧ desires.#top male reader #dom male reader #seme male reader #x top male reader #male reader #bottom female character #bottom male character #sub female character #sub male character #sub character #bottom character

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dykeriver · 12 days ago

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can i just say… gamer!ellie playing something or another on her desktop when you crawl between her legs and pull her loose boxers down (and now, she’s gaming, obviously she isn’t wearing any pants). she’s so preoccupied with her game that she doesn’t even process what you’re doing, eyes glued to the screen. she finally notices when you part her thighs, blowing a cold gust of air on her exposed cunt. she’s already a little wet and you smile. “babe wh-” is all she can get out before you’re diving in, her slick salty-sweet against your tongue. she whimpers, dropping her hands to your hair and gently clenching two fistfuls of it. “no. play.” you tell her, bringing your fingers to her now sopping wet pussy, sliding into her velvety hole with two fingers. she chokes out this high, sweet sound, and shakily palms her mouse once again.

she obviously loses.

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w4ndal0ver · 7 months ago

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said i'm gonna play with myself (milf!wanda x tutor!reader)

W4NDALOVER'S KINKMAS | 2024

dec 7: said i'm gonna play with myself (milf!wanda x tutor!reader)

⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅̩̩͙‧͙ ‧͙̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ˚₊⋆⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅̩̩͙‧͙ ‧͙̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ˚₊⋆⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅̩̩͙‧͙ ‧͙̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ˚₊⋆⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅̩̩͙‧͙ ‧͙̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ˚₊⋆̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ˚₊⋆⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅̩̩͙‧͙ ‧͙̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ˚₊⋆

KINKMAS MASTERLIST | 2024

summary: While tutoring Wanda's children, she invites you to stay for dinner, before giving you a call that you'd never forget when you get home

warnings: 18+, SMUT MDNI, mommy kink, phone sex

said i'm gonna play with myself.

“Let’s wrap up for today, Tommy. I think you’re well on your way to acing this unit,” you say, gathering your notes.

Tommy grins, newfound enthusiasm lighting his face. “Thanks! I might actually read the rest of it now.”

As you gather your things, you take one last glance at Wanda, who is arranging the table. A flutter of excitement stirs in your chest—this tutoring session is just a step into something deeper, something you can’t wait to explore.

Just as you finish packing up, Wanda glances at the clock, then back at you, a thoughtful expression crossing her face. “You know, it’s still early, and Vision won’t be home for a while. Would you like to stay for dinner? It’d be nice to have some adult conversation.”

A rush of excitement mingles with nervousness at the invitation. You glance at Tommy, who looks equally surprised.

“Yeah, stay! My mom makes the best food,” Tommy adds, his grin wide and eager, clearly hoping for an excuse to avoid any homework.

Wanda laughs, a melodic sound that fills the kitchen. “It’s true! Plus, I could use some help keeping Tommy on track. We can talk about your studies too.”

You hesitate for a moment, considering the offer. “Are you sure it’s not too much trouble?” you ask, glancing between Wanda and Tommy.

Wanda shakes her head, her eyes sparkling with genuine enthusiasm. “Not at all! It’s always more fun to share a meal. And I’d love to hear more about your experiences at Yale, especially your English Literature classes.”

Your heart flutters at the thought of spending more time with Wanda, diving deeper into conversation and sharing stories. “That sounds wonderful. I’d love to stay.”

Wanda’s face lights up with happiness. “Great! Just make yourself comfortable. I’ll finish up here.” She moves back to the stove, and you take a seat at the kitchen island, feeling the warmth of her invitation settle around you

“Can I help you with anything?” You ask genuinely, wanting to show her your appreciation for letting you stay.

“Just sit there and look pretty for me.” She smirks, looking at you over her shoulder as she starts to dish up the food that she’d made. She starts to softly hum to herself as you perch on the side. “This smells amazing,” you say, leaning closer to inhale the rich scent.

“It’s a family recipe for beef stew,” she replies, her eyes lighting up. “Tommy and Billy love it, especially on chilly days like today.”

The kitchen feels warm and inviting, and you admire how effortlessly she creates an atmosphere that feels both homey and elegant. As she plates the stew, you can’t help but appreciate the care she puts into everything she does.

“Dinner is served!” she announces, setting down two bowls, each steaming and inviting. The sight alone makes your mouth water, and you grab a warm roll from the basket nearby, slathering it with butter.

As you dig into the meal, you find yourself drawn into Wanda’s world. She shares anecdotes from her life, her voice soothing and engaging, while Tommy and Billy interject with playful commentary. The laughter that fills the kitchen feels intimate, and you notice how Wanda’s eyes sparkle when she talks about her passions.

Between bites, you steal glances at Wanda, captivated by the way she moves about the kitchen, effortlessly transitioning between tasks. Each moment with her feels charged, as if you’re discovering more than just a talented cook but a woman who radiates warmth and kindness.

As dinner winds down, Wanda leans back in her chair, satisfaction evident on her face. “I’m glad you decided to stay,” she says, and her smile feels like an invitation, a promise of more moments like this.

“Me too,” You reply, a flutter of excitement stirring within you. This cosy kitchen, filled with lingering scents of dinner and the warmth of shared laughter, felt right.

As you sit there, enjoying the warmth of the kitchen and the fading light of the afternoon, your gaze drifts to Wanda. She moves with an effortless grace, her laughter mingling with the aroma of dinner, and you can’t help but admire the way her eyes light up when she engages in conversation. Each glance she steals in your direction feels laden with unspoken intentions, and you find yourself wondering what goes on in her mind. What motivates her to invite you into her home, to share this intimate moment with her family? There’s a softness to her demeanour, a hint of flirtation that suggests she sees more in you than just a tutor for Tommy. The warmth in her gaze ignites a mix of excitement and curiosity within you, making you contemplate the possibilities that lie ahead—possibilities that make your heart race with anticipation.

As Tommy and Billy finish their plates, they exchange playful glances before Tommy pushes his chair back. “Can I be excused? I need to go check something on my phone.”

“Me too! Can we play that new game?” Billy pipes up, bouncing in his seat.

“Alright, just keep it down,” Wanda replies with a smile, waving them off. The moment they scurry from the table, the atmosphere shifts, leaving just you and Wanda.

The air feels charged, almost electric. You lean back, savouring the lingering warmth of the meal and the soft glow of the kitchen light. Wanda glances toward the pantry and then looks back at you, a playful smile dancing on her lips. “How about a little wine to celebrate surviving our first tutoring session?”

You chuckle as she moves toward the cupboard, reaching for a bottle. She holds it up, tilting it slightly as if to gauge your reaction, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “What do you think? Care to share a glass?”

“Why not?” you reply, intrigued by her casual invitation. Wanda pours two glasses, her movements fluid and graceful. As she hands you a glass, her fingers brush against yours, sending a small thrill through you.

“It’s nice to unwind after a long day, don’t you think?” she says, leaning against the counter, her gaze locking onto yours with an intensity that makes your heart flutter.

“It definitely is,” you agree, raising your glass in a mock toast. “To surviving tutoring sessions and small towns.”

She laughs, her eyes lighting up, and you can’t help but admire the way she carries herself, exuding both warmth and confidence. “And to new beginnings.”

You take a sip, enjoying the rich flavours as the conversation flows effortlessly between you. “It’s weird being back in Westview. This town can feel so stifling,” you admit, twirling your fork absently. “I didn’t realise how freeing it would be to go to Yale and finally be able to express myself.”

Wanda tilts her head, her gaze locking onto yours with a mix of curiosity and intrigue. “Have you found anyone in Connecticut?” she asks, her voice light but filled with genuine interest.

You chuckle softly, shaking your head. “Oh, there were plenty of people interested, but none that I could be bothered to get to know. Friends, sure, but not a girlfriend.”

“Really?” Wanda leans in slightly, her elbows resting on the table, interest evident in her expression. “Not even a little spark with anyone?”

Her question is playful, and you feel a rush of warmth. “I guess I just didn’t find anyone worth my time.”

Wanda’s smile widens, and she tilts her head slightly, her hair falling to one side. “You’re telling me a beautiful girl like you couldn’t find someone to take a chance on?” She leans closer, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “That’s hard to believe.”

The playful banter makes your heart race. “Believe it or not, I’m not exactly the most sought-after prize.”

“Oh, I don’t know about that,” she replies, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “I find you quite intriguing.”

Feeling emboldened by her flirtation, you decide to take a bolder step, though you tread lightly, your curiosity tinged with an eagerness to learn more about her. “So, I’ve been curious about something,” you say, hesitating just a moment to build anticipation.

“Hit me.” She says, her eyes twinkling as her finger traces the rim of her wine glass.

“Your affair with Agatha, what was that like?”

Wanda’s expression shifts, the playful sparkle in her eyes momentarily flickering with surprise. “You’re quite the inquisitive one, aren’t you?” she replies, a mix of intrigue and wariness in her voice, but there’s an underlying thrill in her tone. “How did you even - no it doesn’t even matter.” She laughs, knowing immediately that Agatha wasn’t exactly one for keeping her mouth shut.

You lean forward slightly, drawn in by her response. “I mean, it seems like it must have been complicated. You two have such a dynamic.” You let the words linger, allowing the weight of the question to settle between you.

Wanda tilts her head, contemplating her answer, her lips parting slightly as if to speak but then closing again. The silence hangs, thick with unspoken thoughts. “Complicated is one way to put it,” she finally admits, her voice softening. “It taught me a lot about myself, about what I wanted.”

“Did you ever think about what might have happened if things had gone differently?” you ask, your tone teasing but sincere, hoping to coax out more from her.

Wanda’s eyes meet yours, the intensity of her gaze making your heart race. “Sometimes,” she admits, her voice barely above a whisper, her fingers brushing against yours on the table. “How come you’re so interested in my love life young lady?”

“You asked about mine first.” It was your turn to wink this time and the reaction that you got from Wanda was completely worth it. Finally her cheeks blushed pink, her lips rolling against each other and her tongue poked against her cheek, something you realised was her tell.

“You got me there sweetheart.” She hums, taking another sip of her wine, the sip turning into a glug, the wine matching the deep colour of her cheeks, highlighting the blonde highlights of her hair which she tucked behind her ear.

You watch her, captivated by the way she navigates the conversation with both grace and playful candour. Wanda’s demeanour radiates warmth, but there's an underlying intensity in her gaze that pulls you in even closer. She leans back slightly, her fingers swirling the wine glass, the deep red liquid catching the light in a way that mirrors the spark in her eyes.

“You know,” she starts, her voice light but teasing, “I didn’t expect such an insightful conversation over dinner. I usually just get ‘What’s your favourite colour?’ or ‘What’s your favourite drink?’” She laughs softly, a musical sound that echoes in the cosy kitchen, making you smile in response.

“Those questions have their charm, but I’d take a good chat about love lives any day,” you reply, letting your gaze linger on her lips as she speaks. “It’s way more interesting.”

Wanda’s smile widens, a glint of mischief dancing in her eyes. “Interesting, huh? So, you’re saying I’m interesting?” Her tone is playful, but there’s a subtle challenge behind it that makes your pulse quicken.

“Absolutely. You’re one of the most interesting people I’ve ever met,” you say, your voice steady despite the flutter of nerves in your stomach. You can’t help but feel drawn to her, a magnetic pull that’s both thrilling and intoxicating.

“Flattery will get you everywhere,” she responds with a smirk, leaning closer again, her elbow brushing against yours. “But seriously, I’m curious. If you had to pick, what’s your type?”

You pause, considering your answer, but the way she’s looking at you makes it difficult to think clearly. “Honestly? Someone confident, a bit witty, maybe a little mysterious.” Your eyes meet hers, and you see a flicker of intrigue dance across her features. “You know, like someone who can keep me on my toes.”

“Oh really?” Wanda arches an eyebrow, the corners of her lips curling into a sly grin. “I think I might know someone who fits that description.” Her gaze flickers to your lips and back to your eyes, a playful challenge lingering in the air between you.

“Do you now?” you tease, leaning closer, your heart racing as you embrace the flirtation. “Care to share?”

She chuckles softly, a soft sound that wraps around you like a warm blanket. “Maybe. But only if you promise to keep it a secret.”

“Cross my heart,” you reply, a playful seriousness in your tone, your heart thumping in anticipation.

“Alright,” she says, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “Lets just say this person has a soft spot for pretty girls who can hold up their own in a conversation.” She bites her lip, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

You feel a rush of heat flood your cheeks, and for a moment, you’re both lost in each other's gaze, the air thick with unspoken tension. Just then, you notice the clock on the wall and blink in surprise, realising how much time has passed. “Wow, I really should get going. I can’t believe how late it’s gotten.”

Wanda’s expression shifts slightly, a hint of disappointment flickering across her face. “Oh, do you have to?”

“Yeah, I should” you begin, but she interrupts you, standing up and moving toward her purse.

“Wait, let me grab something for you,” she says, her tone light as she rummages through her bag. You take a moment to gather your things, but the atmosphere feels charged, and you can’t shake the feeling that this isn’t the end.

As you slip on your coat, she turns to you, a hundred-dollar bill in her hand. “Here, take this,” she says, extending it toward you.

You glance at the money, then back at her, unsure. “Wanda, this is way too much. I can’t just take this.”

“Just take it, please,” she insists, her tone soft but firm. “Consider it a thank you for making dinner so enjoyable.”

Her fingers brush against yours as she tries to push the bill into your palm, and you can’t help but notice the warmth of her touch, sending a jolt of electricity through you. “I really can’t”

“Just let me do this,” she interrupts, her eyes locking onto yours, an intensity behind them that leaves you breathless. “I want you to have it.”

With a sigh, you let her close your hand around the bill, the warmth of her touch lingering. “Alright, if you insist.” You grab your stuff and she follows you out towards the front door.

As you stand by the door, the weight of the moment settles around you, electrifying the air. Wanda moves closer, her gaze locked onto yours with an intensity that sends your heart racing. You feel a thrill as she reaches up, her fingers gently brushing against your cheek, and then she tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear. The soft caress sends a shiver down your spine, and you can’t help but lean into her touch, savouring the warmth of her hand lingering near your face.

“There,” she says, her voice low and sultry, a playful smile tugging at her lips. “Much better.” The way her fingers linger near your ear feels almost intimate, and you find yourself holding your breath, caught in the moment.

Wanda’s eyes search yours, a spark of mischief dancing in their depths. “You always look beautiful,” she adds, her voice dropping just above a whisper, making your heart flutter. The compliment hangs in the air, thick with unspoken possibilities.

“Thanks,” you manage to reply, your voice softer than usual, the closeness between you two making the world outside fade away. You can feel the warmth radiating from her, a magnetism that draws you even closer. All you wanted was to tell her how beautiful you thought she was, pull yourself into a kiss as she slams you up against the door to her suburban house, but instead you can’t get the words out.

As she pulls her hand away, a slight blush creeps up her cheeks, and you notice the way her gaze flickers between your eyes and lips, an unspoken invitation that makes your pulse quicken. The chemistry between you crackles like electricity, and you can’t help but wonder what might happen next, the evening stretching before you with infinite possibilities.

“See you next Tuesday,” she says, a smile playing on her lips as she steps back, watching you with an expression that makes your heart race.

As you step outside, the cool air hits you, but the warmth of the moment lingers, not able to get it out of your head as you walk back home. Everything about her felt so wrong, but you couldn’t ignore the way her eyes gazing into yours made you feel, something so raw and exciting. She was magnetic, all you wanted to do was let your walls fall down and allow her to take you into her grasp, but you knew that you couldn’t, it was too risky.

.-.

As soon as you reach your house, your thoughts are still tangled in the evening’s events, the warmth of her touches still ghosting over your skin. The immediate heat of the house matches the flush in your cheeks despite the chill of the cool night air. It feels unusually quiet, especially after the buzzing tension you’d just left behind.

Kicking off your shoes, you move through the motions of getting ready for bed, but your mind keeps circling back to Wanda. The way her stare lingered on you, how she always leaned closer with each exchange, her fingers brushing yours. That last touch, the press of her hand around the money she forced into your palm, everything was making your skin burn uncontrollably.

You slip into bed, your phone resting on the nightstand, its screen dim but somehow tempting, as if you half expect a message. You close your eyes, but Wanda’s image is imprinted there, her teasing smile, the way she tucked that loose strand of hair behind her ear, the flash of something daring in her eyes every time she glanced at you. There was no more denying it, you’re drawn to her in a way that feels inescapable. The flirting, the touches, she reads your mind without saying a word.

Just as you’re about to drift off, your phone buzzes softly, the screen lighting up with a name that makes you jump up in excitement. Wanda.

You pick up without hesitation, “Hey Wanda,” you say, trying to keep your voice casual, as if you hadn’t been thinking about the way she’d look on top of you.

“Hi,” She replies, her voice warm, a little lower than usual, “I hope I’m not disturbing you.”

“Not at all,” You assure her, shifting slightly under the covers, your thighs squeezing together at nothing but the sound of her voice, “What’s up, it’s late?”

“I was just thinking about our conversation earlier,” She says, her tone deepening with every word she spoke, “I wanted to check in, make sure you got home safe.”

You smiled, touched by her genuine thoughtfulness, “I did, I’m just getting ready for bed.”

“Good, good.” Wanda murmurs. There’s a slight pause, and you hear her inhale deeply, “I, uh, was also thinking about what you said, about finding someone,”

You couldn’t help but feel your breath hitch in the back of your throat, the tension rising over telephone lines. “Yeah? What about it?”

Her voice drops lower, and there's a subtle shift in the air. You can hear her breathing, soft but uneven, something about it was different. “I guess it’s just, surprising, you know?” She whispers, “That someone as pretty as you hasn’t found anyone worth your time.”

You shift the phone harder against your ear, suddenly hyper aware of the weight of her silence between every word. “Wanda?” You ask gently, her silence deafening.

“I’m here,” She responds, but there's a catch in her voice, a breathless quality that wasn’t there before, “It’s just that I’ve been thinking about you.”

Your breath catches, her words making your stomach flip and you could almost choke against her words, “About me?”

There's a soft sound on the other end of the line, a barely audible gasp. Wanda’s breathing hitches and you feel your pulse quicken as realisation dawns down on you. Her breaths are shallow, broken by quiet, restrained moans.

The sudden intimacy of it makes your skin tingle, Wanda was touching herself, while talking to you. The idea sends a rush of heat straight through you, your own breath panting as you process what’s happening. Your mind circling down on the thought of her blowing a blonde strand of hair out of her face as her back arched against the palm of her hand.

“I-” You don’t even know what to say.

“You have no idea how much you've been on my mind.” Wanda whispers, her voice thick with pleasure, each word punctuated by the sounds of her breath quickening, “God, I couldn’t stop thinking about you even after you left.”

Her words are laced with heat, and you feel the tension between you spike, your body responding to the quiet sounds of her gasps, to the way her voice curls around each breathless word.

“I can’t stop imagining” She trails off, another soft moan escaping her, and it feels like it’s all for you, every breath, every sound. “What it’d be like if you were here”

The room feels hotter suddenly, your pulse pounding in your ears. You can picture her now, in her own bed, hand sliding against her skin, her body arching with every wave of pleasure. It’s almost overwhelming, how close she feels despite the distance, how intimate this moment has become.

“Wanda” you murmur, your voice betraying your own excitement, your body reacting to the sultry edge in her voice, to the rawness of this unexpected moment.

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” she teases softly, her voice a delicate thread of desire. “I can tell, I can hear it in your voice.”

You can’t help the way your body responds, heat pooling low in your belly, the thrill of her words sending sparks through your veins. This connection, the electric pull between you and Wanda, feels impossible to ignore now. You could feel your arousal building between your legs, doing everything you could to not join her.

“Tell me what you’d do,” Wanda whispers, the soft, sensual command in her voice making you shiver. You swallow hard, the intimacy of her question hanging in the air, the weight of what she’s asking leaving you breathless.

Your breath catches at her words, the weight of Wanda’s request settling over you, igniting something deep within. There’s a moment of silence, thick and heavy, as you process the intimacy of what she’s asking. You can practically hear the soft rustle of sheets on her end, her breath laboured but controlled, a steady rhythm that mirrors your own quickened heartbeat.

You close your eyes, sinking further into your bed, the thought of her, so vulnerable and uninhibited—making your skin flush. “I…I don’t know,” you murmur, feeling your own voice falter with nervous excitement. But even as you say it, your mind spins with possibility. You know exactly what you’d want to do but you’d never been with a woman before, you’d never been with anyone like that before. You knew that nobody knew that you were still a virgin, but you weren't ready to admit that.

Wanda’s voice softens, her tone coaxing but still thick with desire. “Come on,” she whispers, and you can almost see the playful smirk on her lips, feeling the warmth of her breath against your skin. “Oh I see.” She chuckles through breathy gasps. “Tell me what you want me to do to you.” You gasp at her words, your heart pounding in your chest.

“Wanda, I-” You couldn’t help it, no words were coming out. The nerves of your inexperience coming through so obviously in the waver in your voice.

“It’s okay sweetheart, you don’t know what you’re doing do you?” Her soft moan echoes down the line, a breathless, sensual sound that sends a shiver through you, “You don’t know how to pleasure a woman like you pretend to, do you.” Wanda’s words drip with seductive authority, her voice threading through the phone like a secret. "You don’t have to pretend with me," she purrs, her breath quickening, sending shivers down your spine. "I’ll teach you. All you have to do is listen."

Your heart pounds in your chest, the sheer intimacy of her voice making your body react in ways you hadn’t expected. You shift under the covers, your skin burning with a mixture of desire and nervousness. "I’ve never—" you start, but your voice cracks, barely above a whisper. The admission hangs in the air, your vulnerability on full display.

"I know," Wanda murmurs softly, her tone teasing yet reassuring, as though she had known all along. "But I can show you, if you let me."

You can hear her breathing, now quicker, almost ragged, as if the very thought of guiding you through this is bringing her to the edge. "Do you want me to show you, darling?" she whispers, the question itself a caress. "Do you want me to tell you exactly how I’d fuck you?"

Your breath catches again, your pulse racing, the words sending heat coursing through you. “Yes,” you murmur, barely able to find your voice. "I want you to."

Wanda hums softly, pleased with your surrender, and you can hear the shift of her body, the subtle movements of fabric and skin. "Good girl," she whispers, her words laced with a satisfaction that makes your chest tighten with want. "I want you to close your eyes and imagine me there with you, my hand tracing up your thigh, slipping under your clothes, touching you exactly where you need me."

You can hear the faint sound of Wanda’s breath catching, her own pleasure mounting as she describes it to you. “Can you feel that? My fingers on you?” she asks, her voice breathy and low, pushing you to the edge of your self-control.

“Yes,” you whisper back, your voice shaky, lost in the heat of the moment.

“Tell me what you want,” she says, her voice deepening, the sensual command impossible to resist. "Tell me what you want me to do to you."

You’re trembling now, caught between desire and nervous excitement, but you push past the nerves, your need for her overtaking everything else. “I want you to touch me, to fuck me,” you confess, your voice barely a whisper, the words trembling on your lips.

Wanda’s breath hitches, and you hear the unmistakable sound of her pleasure, a soft gasp escaping her as she touches herself. "Say it again," she demands, her voice thick with lust, desperate to hear your desire.

“Wanda,” you moan softly, giving in to the pull of her words, the fantasy she’s woven around you. “I need you to fuck me. I want you to touch me, make me yours.”

The sound of her gasp on the other end of the phone sends a wave of heat through you, and you can hear her losing control, her breathing turning rugged and uneven. "Mmm, you’re such a good girl," she purrs between breaths, her voice dark with desire. "You’d let me take you, wouldn’t you? Let mommy fuck you until you can’t think straight."

There it was, you let out a moan at the way she titled herself. You knew you’d been into that for years now, but never daring to tell anybody, but of course she knew, she could read you so well. You nod, even though she can’t see you, your entire body aching for her touch. “Yes, please mommy, I want it so badly.”

Wanda moans softly, her pleasure evident, and you can almost picture her, the way her body must be arching under her own touch, lost in the same heat that’s consuming you. "I’d make you beg for it, sweetheart. I’d have you trembling beneath me, begging for more."

You bite your lip, your breath catching at the raw hunger in her voice, your own need reaching a fever pitch. "I’d beg," you admit, barely able to find your voice. "I’d beg for you mommy."

Her breath comes faster now, a soft, breathless moan escaping her lips. "That’s my girl," she whispers, her voice breaking with the weight of her own pleasure. "You’d be mine. All mine.”

Wanda's moan on the other end of the line grows louder, ragged with need, as if your words pushed her even closer to the edge. You can hear the soft rustle of sheets, the unmistakable wet sounds of her fingers moving faster, her breath coming in shallow, uneven gasps. The image of her, undone and desperate for release, fills your mind, stoking the fire building within you.

“Say it again,” she demands, her voice thick with desire, trembling with the intensity of her pleasure. “Tell me what you want, tell me you’re mine.”

Your pulse races, each beat louder than the last, the heat between your legs growing unbearable. You grip the phone tighter, biting your lip, but you know she wants more than your silence. “I’m yours, Wanda,” you whisper, breathless, giving her exactly what she needs. “I’ll do anything. Just please, fuck me. Make me yours, mommy.”

The sound she makes in response is guttural, a low, throaty moan that sends shivers down your spine. “Oh, fuck.” she gasps, her control slipping further with every passing second. You can hear her fingers moving faster, the wetness of her arousal audible through the phone, and it’s intoxicating, pulling you under with her.

“Good girl,” Wanda breathes, her voice barely holding together as she edges closer to climax. “You’d be so good for me, wouldn’t you? Let me fuck you whenever I want, take you however I want.”

“Yes, yes,” you whimper, your own arousal becoming overwhelming, your body aching for her. “Please, Mommy, I’d be so good for you. I’d let you do anything to me.”

That’s all she needs.

With a sharp, shuddering breath, Wanda moans loud into the phone, the sound of her orgasm raw and uncontrolled. Her breath catches, breaking into uneven gasps, and you can hear the wet sound of her fingers as she rides out the wave of pleasure, her body clearly shaking from the force of it. Each sound she makes is laced with satisfaction, a deep, throaty hum of ecstasy as her release takes over completely.

You can barely breathe, your body reacting to the sheer intimacy of hearing her come undone, your own desire pooling low in your belly, desperate and needy. Wanda’s breathing gradually slows, her soft, contented sighs filling the air between you, and you close your eyes, imagining the flush on her cheeks, the way her body must be lying spent against the sheets.

“Such a good girl,” she whispers, her voice still heavy with satisfaction. “I can’t wait to hear you beg for real.”

“Wanda, I don’t know what to say.” You admit, your brain fuzzy and spaced out at the unexpected nature of her call. You’d only been back home for a few days and you had no idea how much of an impression you’d made on the older woman.

“You don’t have to know what to say honey, that’s my job.” She hums as you hear the click of heels against tiled flooring. You could almost choke on the sound, she wasn’t in her bedroom, she was in the kitchen, the echoing of her words now making sense as each moan had bounced around the emptiness of the room.

“Are you in the kitchen?” you ask breathlessly, biting your lip as you imagine her there, the scene playing out in your head like a movie. You envision her bending over the kitchen island, the soft glow of the lights casting a warm hue over her skin as she calls you, wanting you to picture every moment of her tantalising routine.

“Maybe,” Wanda teases, her voice dripping with mischief. “Will I see you next Tuesday?”

You feel a thrill rush through you at her question, the way she asks it, sending your heart racing. "You know I’ll be there," you reply, your voice barely above a whisper, laced with eagerness.

“Good,” Wanda replies, a satisfied hum escaping her lips.

“Goodnight, Wanda,” you murmur, your heart fluttering with excitement as the call ends, leaving you with thoughts of her dancing through your mind. As soon as you heard the line end, you reached down to your underwear, the fabric completely soaked and you threw your head back in frustration. You wanted to touch yourself, but it felt wrong, you wanted to leave yourself in desperate heat, making you want Wanda even more.

1K notes · View notes

starboye · 27 days ago

Text

sex dreams cum true

it was a quiet night in the titans tower, everyone was peacefully sleeping in their separate rooms while you and dick well had sex dreams, dick was imagining fucking you until you wear pregnant while you were imagining riding dick until you couldn't walk

you were both unknowingly grinding on each other, dick pressing his bulge into your ass while you rubbed your ass on his hardening cock, sooner or kater you both slowly came to "baby" he nudged you awake "yeah dick" you said with a little rasp in your voice which made dicks dick perk up even more

"i need you" he paws at the waistband of your sweatpants, and in no time both your clothes are off and your riding dick while he tries to keep you quiet "fuck fuck baby you feel so good" he groans slamming his cock into you, hitting all the best spots in you over and over

all that came out of your mouth was just muffled moans while he slammed his cock into you, luckily he put a pillow behind the headboard to keep it from making to much noise "you gotta stay quiet for me okay" he whispers kissing your cheek before throwing your legs over his shoulders to put you in a mating press

fucking you nice and deep while your muffled moans filled the room, he was fucking the thoughts right out of your head from how good it was "yeah you like it just like that right" he grunts pinning your hands above your head with just one of his hands, kissing all down your neck, leaving hickeys in each spot for you both to hide in the morning

just as he was fucking you you both heard a loud crack and the bed sink "oh fuck" both your eyes went wide in shock "we can worry about that in the morning" dick takes the gag out of your mouth to kiss you "im gonna cum" you moaned quietly, struggling to jeep your voice down when the dick was this good

"me too baby" he chuckles picking you up and flipping ypur positions around, with you now riding dick "oh i like this much better" you say immediately bouncing up and down on his cock still trying your best to keep your voice down so others wont hear you both fucking "fuck fuck fuck" dick throws his head back before filling you upw ith his cum

now it was your turn, planting your hands on his big chest and riding him harder until you came all over his abs "you're good" dick huffs "you're even better" you lean down to kiss him before he gave you a small smack to the ass

xoxo, starboye💋

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#dick grayson #dick grayson x reader #dick grayson x male reader #x male reader #x male y/n #x male #gay #male reader #gay smut #x male smut #bottom male reader #dick grayson x you #dick grayson batman #dick grayson x y/n #dick grayson x female!reader

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totorolaughs · 1 year ago

Text

VIRGIN! DENJI HEADCANONS

gender neutral! reader, readers chest get called titis (1), loser + virgin denji (?), possible ooc??, no beta read REQUEST ARE OPEN

virgin! denji, the boy you meet in the first day school and is pretty much a loner and a loser.

virgin! denji who thinks he's a lesbian until you explain to him that's not how it works

virgin! denji who as you two get closer gets way more touch (ex: sitting on your lap as a ‘joke’ since other boys in class do it to their guy friends, holds your hands while you back to school and back, rubs his crotch against your behind whenever he hugs you from behind)

virgin! denji hasnt had his first kiss so when he told you, you had told you had a lot experience with girls and could teach him if he wants, which lead to you guys kissing as ‘friends’ so he can learn how to kiss girls.

virgin! denji who finally has his first kiss with a girl but isnt as exciting compared to kissing you so when he tells you, you end up making out with each-other just so he feels a little bit better.

virgin! denji comes home sobbing and calls you over and explains that he had confessed to his crush but he is ejected as she explains to him shes a lesbian, you hold him and whisper into his ear sweet nothings.

virgin! denji who complains that he will die if he doesnt touch a pair of titis, so like the good friend you are you let him touch your plush ‘tits’ which leads into him removing your school uniform and sucking on your sensitive nipples like a baby and leaving your poor chest feeling all sore.

virgin! denji who finally confesses that hes a virgin (which isnt shocking) and is terrified of dying a virgin knowing that hes a devil hunter and could die at any time!

virgin! denji who loses his finally loses his virginity to fucking his best-bro during the weekend

“so i just put it in?” he tilts his head as he looked at you, his brows frowned, you nodded. “yeah just put it in!” denji is hesitant hes never done anything sexual ever unless you count sucking on your best-bros chest or making out with them sexual but besides that he has zero idea on what hes doing! what if when he slides in it hurts?! you cup denjis face in your hands as you place a kiss onto his chapped lips “cmon denji.. dont keep me waiting!” you pout, his cheeks flush red as he slowly begins to slide into your tight entrance “f..fuck! youre so tight..!” as he begans to thrust in and out he feels like hes on cloud nine as he harshly slams his cock into your tiny hole, “fuck denji! f..faster!” you moan as your back arches, you tug on his blonde hair as he yelps, he holds onto your hips “ughh..okay!” he groans loudly, he feels himself getting closer and closer as your velvet walls hug his cock, with one final rough thrusts he begins to cum “c..coming! sosos g..good coming!!” he pulls you into a sloppy kiss, you can feel his warm cum fill you up. you pull away from the kiss to catch your breath “how did i do?..” denji mumbles as he looks away, his cheeks flushed. “you did good, such a good boy!” you giggle he just rolls his eyes “shut up!”

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cobaltperun · 20 days ago

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Would you write a part 2 for rule breakers (Tara Carpenter)? Maybe this time reader sneaks into Tara’s apartment for round 2 because she’s still grounded

The Return of the Rule Breakers

SMUT! Bottom Tara Carpenter x Top G!P female Reader

Summary: What felt like the best night of Tara's life turned into one of the worst days of her life. But, at the end of the day, nothing could get in the way of your relationship, not even Sam.

Warning: You came here for smut, but there's quite a bit of angst (especially for my standards) at the start 🤣 Anyway. Smut, so minors do not interact. Fingering, vaginal sex, girl penis Reader, top Reader, bottom Tara, multiple orgasm.

Masterlist / First Part

Word count: 5k

Birds chirped outside the window as Tara stretched in the bed, still feeling a tiny bit sore, but it was a good kind of sore, one that reminded her of what the two of you did last night. You’ve been so gentle with her last night and she turned to look at you, still sleeping with one arm wrapped around her waist. You were adorable, frowning slightly as the sunlight slipped through the window and hit your face.

Wait…

Sunlight? Birds chirping?

“Fuck! It’s morning!” she exclaimed, jumping and startling you as well. “Shit!” Sam was going to kill her unless she got her ass back home before the paranoid overprotective woman she was related to figured out she snuck out.

“What?” you were still half-asleep, but then Tara took a few precious moments to point outside and your eyes widened as the look of pure horror etched itself on your face. “We’re doomed,” yeah, not the word Tara would use, it wasn’t grave enough. If she somehow survived Sam’s rage, you definitely wouldn’t. Especially is Sam found out what the two of you did last night.

How could you fall asleep like that?

Oh, right. You were both ridiculously happy and comfortable and Tara felt warm and safe, and as she put her clothes on she realized there was a chance Sam would take that away from her permanently.

Yes, she was being rather dramatic, but with adrenaline coursing through her veins all she could think about was getting back home. She got dressed and, despite being in the rush, kissed you, deep and slow, savoring the kiss as if it was the last kiss you’d ever share.

“Whatever happens, I love you,” she whispered as you leaned your forehead against hers.

“I love you too, Tara,” you whispered back and then drove her back to her apartment, tense and beyond worried about Sam’s reaction if Tara didn’t get back to her apartment in time.

~X~

She climbed the stairs to her apartment faster than ever before, racing against time and often skipping a step. By the time she reached her apartment she was out of breath and had to take a moment to catch her breath and use her pump. Damn asthma. She inserted her key into the keyhole and froze, going pale as she realized the front door was unlocked. So, Sam didn’t stop by to grab something at the store. “Fuck,” she whispered as she hoped she could slip into the apartment without being caught. She should have known better. She knew Sam would only leave the doors unlocked if she already knew Tara was out the whole night and was already exacting her revenge.

Still, she hoped maybe it was just Quinn leaving the doors unlocked. Yeah, that had to be it. Surely she wasn’t that unlucky.

And for a cruel minute she had high hopes, slipping through the apartment unnoticed, that is until she went into her room, breathed out a sigh of relief and then heard Sam clearing her throat from her desk. And there she was. Her judge. Her executioner. Her sister. Sitting with her arms crossed, scowl etched onto her face, legs crossed and tense and disappointed.

“I can explain?” Tara tried, really not wanting to get into a fight with Sam right now. And she didn’t want to make an already bad situation even worse.

“You snuck out to see her?” Sam wouldn’t even say your name, she practically spat the correct assumption out.

“’She’ has a name, and yes, I spent the night at Y/N’s place, I missed her,” surely Sam could see that. She was fine! She came back home safe and sound and should have come back home happy, but she couldn’t have that with Sam being the way she was.

“And you’ll keep missing her. You’re not leaving the apartment for another week,” Tara’s jaw dropped at that as Sam got up and slammed the doors behind her.

Oh, hell no, that wasn’t happening! Tara went after Sam immediately. “You can’t do that, Sam,” she argued as she caught up to her sister in the kitchen.

“I’m trying to keep you safe,” she was getting sick and tired of this. It was like she replaced a neglectful mother who couldn’t care less if she lived or died with an overbearing helicopter sister desperate to keep her safe.

“By keeping me here like a prisoner?! Away from the girl I love?! How will that help me, Sam?!” she demanded as Sam began making breakfast.

“You can’t love her, you barely know her,” Sam must have been around parrots a lot, because all she seemed to be doing lately was repeating things she already said.

Tara was breathing heavily, trying desperately to calm down as her sister, as well-intentioned as she was, did her damn best to control her life. “Fuck, you’re worse than mom,” she didn’t even notice she was crying.

That got Sam to freeze just as she was about to crack eggs. “Tara, I-“ she turned to look at Tara, and in her pain Tara missed the horrified look on Sam’s face.

“Don’t bother. I get it. I’ll take your stupid punishment,” she went to her room, refusing to talk to or see anyone for the rest of the day. She only texted you that she’d call you tomorrow, and then, like she did so many times as a child, she cried herself to sleep, quietly, into her pillow, to avoid disturbing anyone.

Because that was how her life was meant to be, right? A silent passenger in her own life whose emotions never mattered. Not to her parents, not to Sam, not to Amber, not to anyone until she met you. And you were a human, with your own limits, you’d eventually reach them, and you’d leave, unable to deal with all the bullshit in Tara’s life.

~X~

She should have answered your texts and calls this morning, but she just couldn’t. She knew you were worried sick since yesterday and that this silence was only making things worse, but if she answered your calls you’d hear her voice, weak and hoarse from crying, and you’d come here. You’d run into Sam and that would be the end of your relationship. At least that’s what Tara, overcome by despair, told herself.

But then, around ten in the morning the doors to her room opened and light from the hall cast light into the dark rook. She spent over twenty four hours in the dark, coming out only to go to the bathroom, so this sudden light made her cover her eyes. “Go away, Sam,” she wanted to just curl up and wait until this emptiness she felt to become more bearable.

“It’s not Sam,” your voice startled her, made her sit up, and for a moment she wondered if she was starting to hallucinate. The dark circles under your eyes that were somehow filled with relief convinced her she wasn’t hallucinating.

“Y/N? How did you get here?” she asked, not sure if she should get up and run into your arms, or not. Did she even have the right to hope that this time things would be different?

You stood there for a moment and Tara finally realized that she was looking like a mess. Still dressed in the same clothes she left your apartment in, her hair messy from turning and twisting in her bed, eyes red and puffy from all the crying. “Walked right by Sam,” you finally replied, closing the doors behind you and turning her nightstand lamp on. You answer genuinely surprised her as you closed the distance between you and hugged her, and for the first time since you met, she didn’t hug you back.

“This is such a mess,” she whimpered as she tried to stop herself from crying again.

You pulled back, keeping your hands firmly on her shoulders to try and ground her. If the situation was any different it would have worked like a charm. “I’m right here, Tara,” you told her softly. “Tell me what you need,” always gentle and loving, always thinking of her needs. Always too perfect to last.

“You’ll leave me too, that’s the rule of my life,” she shook her head, too consumed by the pain and negative emotions to consider that she might be wrong.

“Good thing I like breaking rules,” you said as you changed your approach and sat down next to her. “I’ll stay.”

She wanted to believe that, she truly did, but she’s gotten hurt so many times, got abandoned so many times, that as sweet as those words sounded she struggled to believe them. “When Sam tries to push you away?”

There was no hesitation, your reply was simple, but firm. “I’ll stay.”

So firm she nearly allowed herself to believe those words, one last time. “When I get stuck in my head, when trauma gets too bad?”

You caressed her cheek, nudging her to turn her head and look at you as you answered her question. “I’ll stay.”

“When another psycho comes after me?” because as much as she tried to deny it, she knew what happened to Sidney, she was targeted again and again, and there was always a chance she’d have to go through the same thing. Her blood froze when she realized you’d be in danger.

“I’ll stay,” again those same words, spoken with confidence of someone ready to go through that trauma, to be a target, just to stay by her side.

“When you get hurt by that psycho?” the idea of you getting hurt nearly made it impossible to breathe.

“I’ll stay,” yet you never changed your answer, as if telling her you’d heal and stay by her side no matter what happens to either of you.

“When-“ she tried to ask more, to get you to change your mind, to prove her doubts, that suspiciously sounded a lot like Sam talking, right.

“I’ll always stay. Come hell or high water, I’ll always stay,” she looked you in the eyes, seeing nothing but absolute certainty.

“You’ll stay,” she whispered and finally leaned into your touch, hugging you tightly and crying into your chest. For what felt like the first time in years she sobbed, cried without holding back, without caring who would hear or be bothered by it, because she knew you’d hold her through it, keep her from falling apart, that you’d be there for as long as she’d need you to be.

And you did just that, hugging her, running your fingers through her hair, letting her release everything that she was so desperately trying to keep under a lock and key. You didn’t let go, not when Sam opened the doors and stood there, silently observing as you held Tara, as she curled her fingers against the fabric of your shirt firmer, afraid that you’d move now that Sam was there. But you didn’t. You didn’t even look at Sam, you just kept holding her, and louder sobs tore through her throat, making her entire body tremble. You’d stay. You’d stay no matter what. “Nothing will come between us,” you promised, assuring her, but also letting Sam know anything she could say or do to separate you would fail.

You and Tara only heard the doors closing, you didn’t see the regretful, bitter smile on Sam’s face as she realized she was wrong about you.

You completely took charge after that, and soon after Tara cried all of her tears you made sure she ate, nothing heavy though, mostly fruits and lighter snacks she enjoyed. You even spent the night in Tara’s apartment, only falling asleep long after Tara herself fell asleep in your arms, exhausted by all the crying.

~X~

The morning came and went by the time Tara woke up again, feeling significantly better after spending the night with you and getting yet another confirmation that what the two of you had wasn’t temporary. The relationship hadn’t started that long ago, but it withstood the test of her sister’s worry as well as her breakdown.

She smiled as she felt your arms around her, you held onto her like you were afraid to let go, and she realized just how much she frightened you over the weekend. You looked like you really needed the extended rest both of you got yesterday and last night.

And then came a new wave of guilt. Fuck, she was an asshole. You had sex for the first time and then she basically went radio silent with you. Tara groaned, leaning her forehead against your shoulder. “I figured it wasn’t Friday night,” and she was convinced now that you had some sixth sense for her. “At least not, you know, that part,” you explained and kissed the top of her head. “So, don’t worry about that,” you were worried sick, that much she knew, but it brought her a tiny sense of relief to know that you understood that the silence wasn’t because the two of you had sex.

“I still should have answered your calls,” at least to let you know she’d be fine. Eventually.

“I should have been by your side when you talked to Sam. Should have been there for you from the start,” she just realized you felt guilty as well, even if none of what happened was your fault.

She pushed herself up and looked you in the eyes. “Y/N, that’s nonsense. I should handle Sam, not you,” she argued with a pout. The thought that you felt even slight guilt over something what happened over the weekend hurt, it nearly made her slip right back into that despair she barely got out of yesterday.

And you suddenly chuckled, confusing her. “We are both such a mess,” and she laughed as well, because you really were a mess. You pulled her back into the hug and she relaxed, knowing everything would be fine. It felt like you were chasing the dark thoughts plaguing her mind away and she could finally breathe freely. And then her stomach growled, and she blinked a few times, blushing out of pure embarrassment. “Come on, let’s get something to eat, I’ll even make waffles,” you didn’t laugh at her though, you just got up and Tara immediately perked up at the thought of eating waffles.

Surprisingly, Sam didn’t comment on your presence, didn’t try to argue, she just walked into the kitchen when you were halfway done with making the waffles and Tara was happily munching on one right next to you. “I’m sorry, I went too far” was the only thing Sam said, and Tara nodded, they’d need to have a long conversation later, but for now she just wanted to put the awful weekend aside. Sam being willing to let you stay here was enough for her now, and the apology was an added bonus, but Tara honestly didn’t have the energy to deal with Sam’s guilty consciousness now.

“For what it’s worth, I get where you’re coming from,” you, sensing Tara’s emotional exhaustion decided to speak up, and Tara looked at you, smiling appreciatively at that. “I wish it didn’t take this happening to get you to accept me being here, but we can’t change what happened,” you could say that again.

“Right, I’ll leave you two to your breakfast,” Sam awkwardly took a few steps back and went to the living room.

Tara sighed, wishing things weren’t this tense, but it also made her realize several things now that her mind was a bit clearer. Sam just didn’t know how to approach her anymore. She came back so abruptly, immediately had to protect her while dealing with feeling responsible for what happened to Tara and once that was over, they just refused to acknowledge that they no longer knew how to go back to being sisters. Sam pushed Tara away years before she finally left, and now she no longer knew who Tara was or how much trauma she went through all on her own. All the while, Sam herself had to relearn to care for someone, to be protective without going too far, to be by Tara’s side without restricting Tara’s ability to live her life.

There was so much they needed to work on, and it felt daunting, but neither of them would forgive themselves if they didn’t give it a proper try.

And you? You hugged Tara from behind and that alone made the things that would come seem less difficult. “You still think I’m worth all this trouble?” she only half-joked when she asked you that.

“Absolutely,” you still reassured her and kissed her cheek, only to quickly pull away in panic as the smell of slightly burnt waffles filled the kitchen. “Impatient machines…” you grumbled, frantically opening the said impatient machine and getting the waffles out.

Tara chuckled, patting you on the back. “They still look good,” a bit burnt, but it was worth the hug she got.

“You love me too much,” you didn’t see it though, you saw waffles burnt beyond saving and now it was Tara’s turn to kiss your cheek to comfort you.

“I could never love you too much,” she whispered and stole one of the burnt waffles.

“Tara, wait!” you exclaimed, but she was already putting a bit of whipped cream on top of it and biting it.

“Nope, let me have this,” she winked at you playfully and finished the waffle, even though it was a bit too hot. You looked at her incredulously almost as if you were on the verge of arguing over whether or not the slightly burnt waffles should be eaten, so, she deployed her ultimate weapon. She gave you her biggest puppy eyes and you huffed, giving up the fight before it even properly started.

And so the day continued, after breakfast the two of you went to the park to feed birds because Tara desperately needed some fresh air, then you went for a walk, stumbled upon a recently opened amusement park, went on a couple of rides, even won a teddy bear, and then you finally went home after grabbing a quick bite. By the time you came back home the weekend was pretty much forgotten and you were both genuinely happy.

And nothing, absolutely nothing, could ruin Tara’s mood tonight. When they came back home the apartment was already empty, since Sam was working and Quinn went to hook up with another random guy, meaning you and Tara were left alone in the apartment. So, of course you just took it easy, flipping through TV channels and eventually settling on some random movie that was already halfway through. It sucked, though watching from the middle of the movie probably didn’t help it, but neither of you cared.

~X~

Later that night Tara got out of the bathroom, dressed in simple pale pink pajamas and with her hair tied in a high ponytail since she just showered and went to her bedroom where you were getting the drinks and the snacks ready. You already picked a movie, The Babadook, of course, because you were that incredible, and attentive, and gentle, and loving, and Tara considered, for the first time since she saw the movie, saying ‘no’ to watching it. “Hey,” she announced her presence, and you glanced toward her, smiling softly as you gestured toward the bed.

“Ready?” you half sat half lay down with your upper back pressed against the headboard, but Tara set the popcorn and the laptop aside before slowly, almost teasingly, straddling your lap. Your breath hitched as she pulled her hair out of the ponytail. “Tara,” your whisper came out hoarse, and your shallow breathing made her smile.

She caressed your cheek, softly brushed her thumb against your lips. “You’re setting the standards too high, you know?” she whispered, for now resisting the urge to kiss you.

You raised an eyebrow at that and took her hand. Tara watched closely as you brought the back of her hand to your lips and kissed it. “That’s debatable,” you replied. “I’d say I’m just loving you the way you deserve to be loved,” her breath hitched this time and she leaned down, kissing you.

She just realized you haven’t kissed since Saturday morning, and it was Monday night right now. And that simply couldn’t be allowed. “Love me then,” she whispered against your lips, kissing you again and pressing her body against your own. You kissed her back, easily getting her worked up as your tongue brushed against her lips. She parted her lips, moaning as you deepened the kiss, she needed you, needed your touch, needed to feel your hands on her heated skin. She slipped her hands under your shirt, lifting it up slightly. “Do you want to keep going?” she asked breathlessly and you touched her sides and threw your head back, before you lowered your hands back to the bed.

“I do, but… Got no condom,” and that was all the reason you could need at this point to stop.

Tara smiled shyly and gestured toward the drawer, and you pointed at it with a raised eyebrow. “I bought a few, just in case,” she said sheepishly, and you laughed, sitting up properly and letting her straddle your lap. “Well, if that was your only concern,” she smiled and took her shirt off.

You smirked at her, taking in the sight of her bare breasts and hard nipples. “Where’s the rush?” you teased her as you pulled her closer and caressed her sides, purposely avoiding her breasts, purposely keeping her firmly sitting on your lap without letting her grind against you. Tara might as well be an addiction for you, responsive to your every touch, her skin burning hot underneath your fingertips as her breathing became just a tad bit louder.

You kissed her neck, and she tilted her head back, gasping as you gently bit her. Her fingernails dug into the back of your neck and shoulder, and you felt her hard nipples rubbing against your shirt as she ever so slightly moved against you, rubbing her pussy against the bulge of your cock. “There’s the rush,” she gasped, shivering as you finally cupped her breast and brushed your thumb over her nipple. “Right in your pants,” she clutched the fabric of your shirt harder, pulling at it as you pinched her nipple. “Baby,” Tara moaned, her blush spreading all over her face and neck as you slipped your other hand into her pajama shorts from behind, gently massaging her ass.

Tara took your shirt off and looked at you, her pupils dark as you kept teasing her. She grinned a bit and leaned down, kissing your neck and sliding her palms down from your shoulders to your breasts, and it felt like her touch left your skin burning as you slipped your hand further into her shorts and teased her pussy. “Fuck, you’re wet,” you groaned, throwing your head back as Tara spread her legs further and arched her back moaning against your neck and making a shiver run down your spine as the vibrations went straight to your cock, making it twitch in your pants.

You kept teasing her, toying with the idea of fingering her wet pussy and she lost track of time as her body responded to your every touch, pulsing, shivering, aching for your touch, for more. She could feel her panties getting soaking wet as minutes went by and for a moment, she thought she would cum like this, with you barely touching her. And then you pulled your hand out of her shorts, smirking slightly as she whined at the loss and sucked your fingers clean. “What do you want, Tara?” you whispered into her ear as you toyed with the waistband of her shorts. The room was getting unbearably hot, but it was nothing compared to the heat burning within her.

“You, inside of me,” she whimpered, her empty pussy squeezing around nothing as you pushed her shorts all the way to her thighs and then nudged her gently to take them off all the way herself. And she did it, quickly getting rid of the pesky articles of clothing as you pulled your hard cock out and teased her entrance with the tip. “Please,” she was wet enough to take you, she pushed down, slipping your tip inside of her pussy and moaning.

“Tara,” you warned, pulling out. “Need to prepare you,” you whispered, keeping your cock pressed against her front as you inserted two fingers into her warm, wet pussy. She moaned, holding onto your back as you rubbed her clit with your thumb and fingered her, rubbing that sensitive spot inside of her pussy. Drops of precum smeared against her belly and she looked down, realizing she was about to take your bare cock into her pussy, that she could have had you spilling your seed inside of her, and she gasped, the coil that was tightening inside of her snapping as she came with a desperate moan scratching at your back and leaving red lines behind as she lost herself in pleasure.

“Good girl,” you whispered into her ear, kissing the side of her head as you slipped your fingers out of her pussy and she just slumped against you, catching her breath as you rubbed circles against her back. She reached down, teasing your cock with the tips of her fingers and smiling blissfully as it twitched against her.

“I want to ride you,” she left a couple of short, butterfly kisses against you jaw as she opened the drawer next to her bed and pulled a couple of condoms out to find the right size. “I could’ve asked, but I didn’t want to spoil the surprise,” she nibbled on your ear gently, loving the way your breathing got heavy. Loving that you were just as affected by her as she was by you. “For myself, I mean,” she added, finding the right one and opening it before gently putting it onto your cock.

“Now lay back and let me ride you,” she kissed you on the lips and then gently pushed you back until your back was on the bed. You smiled, caressing her thighs softly as she got to her knees and positioned herself above your cock. “No touching until I tell you to,” the smile immediately disappeared, and Tara smirked, enjoying your reaction a lot more than she thought she would. Slowly, carefully, she lowered herself onto you, gasping and grabbing onto your shoulders as she sank lower until inch by inch she took all of you and paused, getting used to the stretch. Fuck, you were driving her crazy and she was just sitting there with your cock inside of her. She moaned, needy and fulfilled at the same time as she slowly rolled her hips, her pussy clenching around your throbbing cock. “Feel so good,” she gasped as you moaned.

“Tara,” you rasped, desperate, your hips bucked, pushing your cock deeper into her as you grasped onto her hips. You threw your head back and she could see your arms tensing as she slowly began riding you.

“Just like that, baby,” she gasped, getting drunk on the control she had. “Let me ride you now, and later,” she moaned, arching her back and reaching down to rub her clit. “Later you can fuck me however you’d like,” the images in her mind were vivid. You pounding her into the mattress, holding her in place as she begged you for more. She rolled her hips harder, dropping down on top of you and gasping as the heat radiating from your body consumed her. “Y/N,” she cried out your name, feeling your fingers in her hair as you tilted her chin up with your thumb and kissed her neck. She began grinding against you, the friction against her clit making her lose her rhythm.

“Let me touch you, Baby,” you pleaded and she quickly nodded, moaning as you grabbed her hips and fucked into her, pounding into her as she gasped above you. Your hot breath against her neck, her body pressing against your own, her hands grasping desperately at your shoulder and biceps, marking you as her own, it left her entire body trembling as the sound of her soaking wet pussy taking your cock drove both of you mad.

“Fuck, I’m close,” you rasped, your own thrusts getting uneven as you desperately reached between you and rubbed her clit.

“A bit more, Baby, just a bit more,” she was about to cum again, that delicious, familiar tension kept building up inside of her, quickly reaching its peak. And then a couple of thrusts at a slightly different angle made her fall apart on your cock, cumming as your name spilled from her lips in a desperate cry.

“Fuck, Tara!” you came soon after, pulling out and cumming into the condom and just dropping your arms onto the bed, spent and utterly exhausted as Tara tried to catch her breath on top of you. “That was-“ you tried to speak but just shook your head, giving up and hugging her instead, too tired to talk.

“Amazing,” she dragged the word out, still delirious from the orgasm that left her body still humming from the pleasure.

“Mhm,” you agreed as Tara carefully moved to your side and looked down at the soaked front of your pants. She made quite a mess, from the looks of it. “How are you feeling?” you asked her softly, pushing past the exhaustion to make sure she was fine.

“Wonderful,” Tara whispered, nuzzling against you and basking in the warmth of your bodies. “We should really open the window though?” the air was hot and stuffy, and the room smelt like sex.

“Right,” you agreed, yet neither of you moved. The room could wait a couple of minutes until you got down from your high. Tara dragged her body up with tremendous effort and kissed you on the lips, soft and gentle this time, but just as precious as any other kiss the two of you shared.

#perunrequests #tara carpenter x female reader #tara carpenter x reader #tara carpenter smut #tara carpenter #scream #bottom tara carpenter #top reader #g!p reader #x reader #x female reader #jenna ortega x reader

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