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#and every time i come back from being off
luvth0t · 3 days
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NEED ME? ━ L.N
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in which you’re on vacation with your ex boyfriend, the only man who’s been able to make you cum in recent times.
warnings; smut, unprotected sex, eavesdropping, cocky lando, ex lovers, conversations of masturbation and inability to orgasm, hair pulling, oral both receiving, overstimulation, praise, slight degradation, choking ect.
it was a throw away question. one lando probably shouldn’t have brushed off.
“you’re sure you’re fine with her coming?” max had asked so casually despite it being on this tip of his tongue for the last hour, eyes not lifting from his phone to see the way lando looked at him with raised eyebrows.
the driver said your name in confusion, even chuckled. “of course. why wouldn’t i be?” lando followed; a rhetorical question. he knew why max was asking such thing.
he watched as max shrugged, hummed mindlessly as if he didn’t have a response prepared.
“wouldn’t catch me wanting to share a roof with my ex,” max mused; putting his phone down and finally meeting lando’s eyes, glare more so, quick to put his hands up in defence. “just saying. something to think about,” max quickly added.
he had his best friends best interest at heart.
“so what? we tell her she can’t come?” lando scoffed, shaking his head as he leant back into the seat he was occupying. “we’re friends. hasn’t been an issue before.” lando dismissed.
and he wasn’t lying. you’d broken up almost a year ago, which was concerning at first considering you shared the same friend group. were friends before lovers.
but it worked, you’d remained friends. saw each other every now and then, in a group setting. you weren’t as close, obviously, but it wasn’t awkward.
“no i know,” max huffed; even rolling his eyes. “maybe two villa’s is something to think about, that’s all.” max shrugged once more. he wasn’t just thinking of lando, but you as well, his other dear friend.
the brit shook his head, not giving in to the worry max seemed to hold. “not necessary. no different than being at the same hotel.” lando concluded.
he’d seen you on nights out, had conversations with you on boats; you still got an invite and paddock pass to his home race.
there was nothing to worry about. if you two weren’t capable of being friends, such thing would’ve been exposed.
that’s what lando thought anyways.
standing on the deck of a ten bedroom villa in the south of france however, he realised maybe he should’ve considered max’s words more carefully.
small doses of you seemed to differ from your constant presence.
the break up was civil, lando was grateful for such thing. it’d been him who ended things, purely because he felt as if he couldn’t give you the time you deserve. it was a cop out, he feared, realising things were almost too good between the pair of you.
he wasn’t sure he could commit to putting you through a relationship where you wouldn’t get the time and treatment you deserved.
you took it well, an angel in fact; you wanted to hate him for it. but you couldn’t bring yourself too. selfless enough to put the peace of your mutual friends and him first. plus, losing him entirely left a bitter taste in your mouth.
you’d mourned the relationship, cried in private and cursed him to your best friend; and moved on. well, appeared to have.
it went unspoken, amongst the group; in front of you two at least, and between you two as well. not exactly something you were ready to laugh at yet. it just seemed to go… unaddressed.
until it was night two, dinner at a fancy restaurant with maybe a few too many bottles of wine meant piling into ubers to get back to the villa.
it sort of just happened, lando shuffling into the car behind you; leaving you in the middle of him and max; pietra on max’s lap and tom in the front.
your senses were consumed of him immediately, not able to avoid him considering you were practically pressed into his side in an attempt to give pietra enough room.
you glanced up at him once, smiling sheepishly to see his eyes already on you.
“you still wear it,” lando hummed casually, pinky finger reaching to brush over the bracelet he’d bought you a few months into your relationship, grazing your wrist as he did so.
your cheeks went a shade of pink at the observation, and if it weren’t for the fact you were wine drunk you probably would’ve made up an excuse as to why the piece of metal still found it’s way onto your wrist everyday.
“it’s my favourite,” you replied; glancing down at the piece as your hand moved to fiddle with it, small smile playing on your lips.
you missed the grin spread on lando’s face, a sense of pride fulfilling him as he recounted the stress it had caused him just picking out the damn bracelet. he was relieved to see you still wearing it, for some reason.
“i’ve got good taste.” lando bragged, eyes practically begging for yours to meet his again; smiling in amusement when they did as you nudged him.
you were suddenly even more aware of the closeness, the way your knees were touching, how his arm had stretched to rest over the headrest behind you. it was forced proximity sure, but an odd sense of familiarity that you hadn’t felt in a while was accompanying it.
“most of the time,” you mused, earning a nudge back ━ which had a giggle escaping you, one you attempted to hush; not wanting to draw attention to you and lando’s conversation.
if it did, the others in the car would’ve seen the way lando’s face lit up at the sound. he hadn’t made you laugh like that in months, he’d forgotten how good it felt to do so.
he’d almost forgotten how easy you were to be around. how easy it was to fall for you in the first place.
it was as if the universe was punishing him for such thing, because suddenly you were all he could think about once more.
that night, he was simply relaxing in his room; when you came waltzing in.
“p,” your voice hummed as you knocked; pushing the door open before lando could muster a response from inside. “do you have my top━ oh shit, sorry!” you’d cut yourself short when you found yourself standing in lando’s room. not pietra and max’s.
who was luckily just lounging on the bed in his joggers, not far from switching the lamp off and going to sleep.
but he had been shocked to see you enter his room in just a towel.
“you’re fine,” lando chuckled; having sit up. “we swapped rooms this morning… figured they should have a private bathroom,” lando explained; watching as your face softened in some sort of relief.
you hadn’t been crazy. regardless, still embarrassed; the redness on your cheeks clear as you nodded, cringing ever so slightly.
“right; my bad, sorry,” you repeated; not even wanting to imagine what else you could’ve walked in on.
lando simply chuckled, shaking his head as his eyes glanced over your figure just once; unable to help himself. having to swallow to not let himself think back to what he knows is underneath the towel keeping you modest.
“i’m gonna go,” you declared; sheepishly smiling as you turned on your heel; cringing once more now that you were out of sight, not hiding the urgency as you practically fled his room and slammed the door behind you.
lando hadn’t realised he was holding his breath until you left, body relaxing as he flopped back onto the mattress; a curse leaving his lips.
the next morning, you were there again. obviously. yet he couldn’t see you, nor could you see him. so technically he was eavesdropping; but it hadn’t been on purpose.
lando was out on his balcony first, which was above yours it appeared; mindlessly scrolling through his phone before arabella’s voice became audible, who you were rooming with this trip.
“since when did nicolas get ripped,” she’d posed to you, peering at the man who was dipping in the pool; your eyes following her gaze from where you both sat in deck chairs; smoothies in hand.
“he’s always been cute,” you pointed out; shrugging ever so slightly as you adjusted the sunglasses atop your head, rolling your eyes the moment you caught glance of arabella’s grin.
“and he’s always been into you.” arabella chimed, and you should’ve expected her to steer the conversation in such direction.
lando whoever, who hadn’t scrolled past the tik tok which was playing for the fourth time now, had not expected such words.
his eyebrows furrowed in confusion. you and nicolas? yeah right. you two were close friends, he knew that much. but nothing more. surely not.
“we’re friends bella,” you dismissed; shaking your head. slightly flirty friends as of recent, you’d admit. but just friends.
“so? doesn’t have to stay that way,” arabella had grinned ━ and lando felt betrayed; as if it should be him the pair of you were talking about. not nicolas.
“yes it does.” you laughed. “i’m not dating within the friend group ever again,” you spoke in such certainty it had lando confused, he didn’t think it faired that bad the first time.
but he also wasn’t opposed to your declaration. not that he was close to nicolas, in fact he probably knew him the least. but he was a brother of a childhood friend, who’d tagged along the last few trips. and lando had no complaints of the guy.
“don’t be silly,” arabella huffed. “i’m not saying fall in love with him. just that he could end the sex drought you’re stuck in.” arabella hummed, your eyes widening as you hit her softly.
“what? no one can hear us!” arabella spoke dramatically, and you rolled your eyes; no argument because you figured she was right.
however she wasn’t, because lando was still listening. and his interest had suddenly spiked.
“i am not… stuck in a sex drought,” you huffed; not sounding one bit convincing as you glanced at the pool. “men just suck. i’ve given up on having an orgasm.” your words were dramatic, and playful, but still a bit of truth to them.
suddenly lando felt guilty for overhearing, or purposefully listening, but he couldn’t help but be intrigued.
your words made no sense to him; considering nights with you would always lead to multiple orgasms for both of you.
and it wasn’t as if you were short on options.
“gotta do everything yourself these days,” arabella sighed out dramtically in agreement; but she had a boyfriend, and your friendship with the girl wasn’t one for many secrets; you knew she was only ‘relating’ out of sympathy.
truth was; since lando, nothing or no one could compare. not even your own damn fingers.
“can’t even get myself off.” you huffed out almost ashamed, and you only whined when you met arabella’s shocked eyes and slack jaw.
lando suddenly felt intrusive, and flustered from the idea of you touching yourself; one he’d grown familiar with due to long distance. suddenly he was standing and ready to walk himself inside in his room.
“is your body like… broken?” arabella sounded bewildered, and you could only huff.
you’d blame it on stress, or any of your medication if it was possible; you’ve heard stories, knew there could be many reasons as to why your sex drive and urges have suddenly changed. none aligned with your circumstances however.
“just deprived i think,” you sighed.
lando needed to get his mind off your sexual need’s immediately, deciding to go on a run with max to occupy himself. to get you off his mind.
and it worked, until he got back to the villa. hot and out of breath, he found himself in the kitchen ━ pouring a glass of water with ice, eyes wandering out the fold out doors that exposed the luxurious back yard. decking, sun lounges, a pool; and his closest friends.
and his ex girlfriend. in a little bikini. with another man’s hands on her.
he couldn’t help but scoff at the sight, you resting on your stomach as nicolas rubbed sunscreen into your back ━ watching as you grinned and spoke up to him momentarily. you were flirting, he knew that look.
his takeaways from his… eavesdropping, was that you didn’t plan to pursue nicolas. so what the fuck was this?
he wanted to laugh, you were going to seek answers to your problems in nicolas? he almost felt offended; if you needed good sex so badly he felt as if he was the obvious candidate.
“careful mate, you’re staring,” max’s words snapped lando out of his thoughts; causing him to glare at the man quickly, bringing his glass to his lips, unaware that his grip was so tight his knuckles were white.
max’s amusement only escalated, eyebrows raising as he chuckled quietly.
“i wasn’t.” lando murmured, leaning back against the counter. “just didn’t know that was a thing,” he tried to shrug off; eyes returning to where you now sat up, rubbing sunscreen into nicolas’s back now.
had he been oblivious to the pair of you?
“i don’t think it is.” max shrugged, following lando’s gaze momentarily, not overanalysing the sight. everyone was friends here.
lando looked to max in doubt, to check if he was being serious.
“does it matter if it is?” max questioned, sassily too, almost a challenge; and lando was quick to scoff ━ mustering up the best chuckle he could to appear as unbothered as he wanted to be.
“no,” the mclaren driver answered almost too quickly, clearing his throat slightly. “i hope it is. would be a good match,” he overcompensated; left to only flip max off as he chuckled and hummed unconvincingly.
“whatever you say,” max mused.
lando wished he was being honest, but as time passed by it became quite clear he was lying.
dinner that night you were sat at opposite ends of the long table, like usual; regardless, lando’s eyes were trained on you for the majority of the night.
you and nicolas of course. who’d snagged the seat next to you.
forced to watch as you shared food, laughed and chattered away in your own little world.
lando felt sick from the sight; that used to be him. should be him. and while he could only blame himself for it not being him, it was a cruel reminder of what he’d lost.
he felt utterly helpless however, because there was nothing he could do.
he couldn’t even express his dismay to anyone as he watched nicolas help you in the car. left to watch as you both giggled and stumbled up to the villa ahead of the group.
he wanted to intervene, to make his presence known to hopefully at least make it awkward. but he couldn’t bring himself too.
not when you’d been such an angel in the breakup, made things so easy for him from the start of the relationship to now. it just wouldn’t be fair to ruin this for you.
even though it was all he wanted to do.
he noted how you two were first off to go ‘sleep’ that night, halfway through the movie that had been put on. and he suddenly wished he’d downed a few more glasses of red at the restaurant, maybe then he wouldn’t have the capacity to brainstorm up everything and anything you and nicolas could be doing tonight.
he wasn’t going to say it was what kept him up, tossing and turning and unable to fall asleep; but it definitely played on his mind.
it was starting to make sense to him at least; he hadn’t been around you without distractions since the breakup. it suddenly became clear how helpful those distractions are.
3:42 the clock read.
lando hadn’t gotten a second of shut eye, and after two hours of laying there; he conceded. deciding to get a glass of water as if that would be the solution to all his problems.
instead he was just met with the problem itself; you.
surprise, surprise. nicolas was not the answer to your prayers.
you were already keen to tell arabella ‘i told you so’ when you returned to your room. having spent the night in nicolas’.
he was a nice guy, until the clothes came off.
it was nothing new, you on top; he came. you didn’t. he then tried to get you to finish with his fingers, and you faked an orgasm when it became clear he wasn’t finding your clit any time soon.
your frustrations had now multiplied, it felt pathetic. you were ready to give up.
you snuck out the moment he fell asleep, in the kitchen to get a glass of water and for a few moments to yourself.
“shouldn’t be surprised you’re up,” lando made his presence known, having debated running back to his room when he noticed you occupying the kitchen.
typical.
“needed a drink,” you hummed sheepishly; and for some reason when your eyes met his you felt intimidated; as if you needed refuge, turning back around to the fridge to fill your cup up with ice.
maybe it was because you were already sexually frustrated. or the fact you were stood with your ex boyfriend after sneaking out of another guys room.
“same,” lando hummed; moving behind you to grab a glass for himself, and you could feel him waiting behind you as you poured water into the glass.
“nice night?” lando asked when you moved aside so he too could fill his glass, not looking at you for the time being so you wouldn’t decipher the motives in the question. he didn’t need you to know how concerned he was with your night.
you nodded quickly, humming as you still had a mouth full of water, leaning against the counter now.
“yeah, yeah,” you spoke; pursing your lips. it had been. until it wasn’t. “restaurant was lovely,” you smiled; shifting on your feet slightly as you took in his appearance, even in the dull lightly.
his messy curls that look slept on, slightly tired eyes. he looked cozy.
lando nodded, so much on the tip of his tongue. maybe if it was a different hour of the day he’d have the common sense to not speak his mind, but he was slightly sleep deprived and going insane from his own thoughts.
“you know my balcony is above yours,” lando told you; randomly, your eyebrows furrowing ━ coughing out a slight laugh. you weren’t sure where this conversation was going to lead, your guess was awkward silence. not him blurting out something… irrelevant.
it took a few moments for it to dawn on you, the slight curve of lando’s lips into a smirk causing your eyes to widen in realisation.
you’d only been out on the balcony once today.
“oh my god,” you mumbled; cringing as he chuckled, shaking his head ever so slightly. “shut up!” you whisper yelled, leaning forward to whack his arm, which only had him laughing once more as his hands flew up in defence.
“i wasn’t eavesdropping! i swear,” lando mused, shaking his head as your eyebrows raised.
“great, so you just happened to hear all about my sad sex life,” you huffed, and lando couldn’t help the small smile that was refusing to leave his lips; always having adored the sight of you flustered and sheepish.
it didn’t help, the sight of you wearing what seemed to be just an oversized shirt. reminiscent of how his shirts would drape over your body.
“yeah,” lando confirmed sympathetically, causing you to whack him again; no force in your actions as you groaned audibly.
you couldn’t think of anyone you’d rather not hear that conversation; ever so grateful you hadn’t been completely honest with arabella.
you would die of humiliation if you’d told her how you compared every man to lando, how you found no one was able to make you feel anywhere near as good.
but regardless, there was a level of comfort. you trusted the man in front of you.
“nicolas though hm?” lando spoke light heartedly, reminding you of the man you’d just been in bed with.
was it bad he’d slipped your mind completely? having forgotten that he was who sparked such conversation this morning.
“did he make you cum?” his follow up question had you dumbfounded, having not expected such blunt words as your lips parted. “can i ask that?” lando added with a reassuring laugh. but you knew that look in his eyes.
they were darker than usual, he was staring at you intently; practically begging you to step closer.
“no,” you cleared your throat, opting for honesty. “he didn’t.” you huffed, eyes avoiding his for a moment as if you were ashamed. as if it was your fault.
the relief lando felt was pathetic, not that he wished a bad time upon you. or anyone for that matter. but god it felt like the door had been swung right open for him.
he was right; of course nicolas wasn’t going to do it for you.
“i know you can make yourself cum.” lando chimed, pushing himself off the counter and taking a couple steps towards you; ridding any distance as he stood in front of you. “used to be able to at least, seen it myself,” he told you as if you could forget.
you swallowed intently, the tension now almost suffocating. sleeping with an ex was something you swore against; recipe for disaster. but it seemed awfully appealing when it looked like lando did right now.
your cheeks were pink, thinking about the countless times you’d gotten yourself off on facetime calls with the driver, purely because neither of you could wait any longer to see one another again.
“not the same anymore.” your voice was barely above a whisper, it didn’t need to be; not when he was only centimetres away, looking down at you as if he was ready to ravish you.
lando’s eyebrow raised at that, eyes flickering across your face.
it wasn’t the same, you’d worked out the hard way. you only relied on your own devices when you had no other choice; and with that would be lando on the of phone with words of encouragement and direction.
“what, need me to talk you through it again?” his words were teasing as his hand moved to cup your cheek; your stomach turning at the thought. at the fact he seemed like he knew that would do it for you.
you let out a slight breath, shaking your head but you held little confidence in doing so.
“need me to touch you?” he added on, offer sounding almost like a request; words so hushed you could’ve missed them. but you didn’t, you heard him loud and clear.
his eyes were pouring into yours as if he pitied you, but the smirk on his face showed he wanted nothing more than to be the one to solve your problems.
you didn’t even need to think about it, no ifs or buts entering your mind; nothing could make the idea of him seem unappealing.
“please,” you mumbled; eyes pouring up into his, watching as a wicked grin spread on his features; one that made your knees weak.
it was all lando needed to hear, lips pressing against yours in an instant; it coming back to the pair of you quickly. feeling so natural, the way your body melted into his touch; the way your lips moved against each other.
your hands finding a grip on his shirt as his spread across your hips.
lando didn’t waste any time; he wanted to make you cum.
he wasn’t sure if it was because it seemed like a challenge, or because he missed you; but god did he want nothing more than to make you feel good:
his knee pushed between your thighs first, your legs spreading; immediately aware of the finger he was tracing up your inner thigh.
as much as lando missed the feeling of your lips against his, he loved watching you react to every touch and feeling. pulling away but not creating much distance as his fingers brushed over your clothed folds.
you took a sharp breath, shifting your weight to lean against the counter as the anticipation built within, eyes locked on his as he teasingly brushed your clothed clit as well.
he could feel your soaked panties, a wet patch that you knew wasn’t there when you first entered the kitchen.
“you know it doesn’t make sense,” lando started speaking through a breath; his fingers pushing your panties aside with ease, swiping through your folds; spreading your wetness to your clit. “because you’re always so easy for me baby,” he practically cooed as he slipped two fingers inside you.
your jaw fell slack, hips pushing against his hand lightly as you whimpered; cheeks hinting at his taunting words which you’d almost forgotten about and how crazy they drove you.
his free hand returned to your cheek, cupping the side of your face and adjusting your head to ensure you were looking up at him; his head tilting ever so slightly as he gazed down at you.
“so responsive,” he added in a hum; looking incredibly smug, thumb settling on your clit ━ and the moan that escaped you as he circled your sensitive bud had lando’s jaw clenching. he’d missed your pretty sounds.
he was toying with you, teasing. his fingers moving slowly, thumb only lightly circling your clit. yet you hadn’t felt this good in fucking forever, face contorting in pleasure proving such thing.
lando could get lost in the sight, not able to help himself from wanting to give you more.
his fingers gradually picked up the pace, thumb applying more pressure now; but it was when he curled his fingers, grazing that spot he never failed to miss, that you hadn’t been able to find, that a slightly louder moan escaped you.
“ah, ah,” lando hushed you; tapping your cheek lightly. “gotta be quiet baby,” lando hummed through heavy breaths, hating that he had to ask such thing of you.
he wanted to hear you lose control, hear you scream his name like you had countless of times. but he’d hate to be interrupted and have the current sight cut short.
you whined quietly at the request, biting down on your bottom lip as you tried to keep any noise at bay; knowing you had no choice. waking anyone up would be less than ideal.
but somehow, the thought of being caught was the least of your concerns.
your back arched when he added a third, thumb still expertly playing with your clit; your quiet whimpers and moans were growing in volume once more.
lando took matters into his own hands, the hand cupping your cheek shifting so he could tap his pointer finger on your bottom lip; and he had to shut himself up this time as you invited two digits past your lips without second thought.
“fuck,” he mumbled out; eyes fixated on the way you looked up at him with his fingers in your mouth; so similar to the sight of when you’d suck him off. his hard on was almost painful.
your moans were muffled now, thankfully, as your hips pushed forward once more; slowly losing control over your body as the pleasure continued to build.
you’d made a mess on your thighs, his fingers working in and out of you perfectly; beginning to curl his fingers repeatedly had your eyes rolling back.
“yeah, right there baby?” lando mumbled; despite you unable to respond. “gonna make a mess on my fingers yeah? think you deserve to cum,” he smirked ━ and if you could’ve you would’ve cried out, nodding quickly at his words.
your stomach tightened, it was sudden; more sudden than you remembered, lando having caught on to the fact you were cumming before you did; squeezing his fingers as you came undone.
his body was practically holding you up against the counter, vision going white for a moment as your muffled moans filled the air, hips bucking involuntarily once more.
lando wanted to curse himself for ever depriving himself of such thing, watching as you shook in front of him; fingers moving to let you ride out your high, until he was pulling them from your panties, and mouth respectively.
your eyes fluttered open, nothing but awe as you gazed up at him through hooded eyes; panting ever so lightly.
he was smiling cockily, if he didn’t know the root of your issue before, he did now. the way you needed him.
you couldn’t even crush his inflating ego, not when he’d made you cum so hard in a matter of minutes; giving you what you’d been chasing the past few months.
he was about to kiss you again, after moments of admiring your face; but the sound of a door shutting had the moment ruined, reminding both you and him of where you are and what you’re meant to be.
definitely not meant to be caught having a moment at 4 in the morning.
lando was quick in taking a few large strides across the kitchen, positioning himself on the other side of the island as you quickly tugged your shirt down and ran your hand through your hair.
when pietra walked in, it was an innocent sight. plenty of distance between the pair of you, not enough lights on to expose your flushed cheeks or lando’s glistening fingers.
you pretended to be surprised as you brought your glass to your lips, leaning against the counter because your legs were still shaky, lando nodding towards the blonde.
“can’t sleep?” lando hummed in question.
“need to fill my water up.” pietra nodded with a smile, eyes flickering between you in suspicion for a brief moment as she realised this was almost an awkward thing to walk in on. you and him.
if only she knew.
you nodded in agreement, raising your glass of water as lando let out a small chuckle.
“if you need a late night snack, the donuts are great,” lando spoke again; your eyes falling onto him, and you were sure your face was bright red as you watched him bring his fingers to his lips; licking them clean.
you coughed on air, playing it off as if your water went down the wrong way; pietra oblivious as she nodded with a smile.
“i’ll keep that in mind.”
the smirk he’d sent you was sickening, and with that he was saying good night and excusing himself.
lando ended up needing a cold shower that night, with his own hand and images of you burned into his mind.
you were hoping your head would be clear when you woke up, but it was only more scrambled.
you’d gotten what you wanted, was it greedy to only want more?
“good night?” arabella had questioned you, sitting next to you on the long dining table; bowls of cereal in front of pair of you; and the smirk on her face was quite telling.
except she didn’t know the half of it.
“yeah, yeah it was good,” you hummed; eyes shifting to the other end of the table; where lando sat, already staring at you. the mischievous glint in his eye had you looking away quickly, the sly smirk not helping you in trying to play it cool to arabella.
you knew he was listening.
“did your… problem get solved?” arabella attempted to ask without outing you, so oblivious to the fact lando could easily piece together her words.
your eyes narrowed towards her, as if to say ‘shut up.’ which she only looked back at you with wide eyes, finding herself quite discrete.
“well?” arabella pushed, whisper yelling.
“yes,” you huffed; in hopes she would shut up, you could feel lando’s eyes burning into you. the man who solved your problem, unbeknownst to arabella who thought it was nicolas who was responsible.
“ah! how exciting,” arabella grinned; standing up and taking her bowel to the kitchen, only then did you let your eyes fall back on the british driver.
who looked oh so amused, you had to flee; following in the girls steps.
it set the tone for the next few days; longing looks, tempting smirks and lingering touches.
you couldn’t bring yourself to go out of your way and seek more of him; despite how much you wanted it. nicolas had been forgotten about, failing to explain your sudden interest and now lack of in the guy.
lando was all you could think about. how couldn’t you? he’d fingered you in the kitchen, bringing you to a mind blowing orgasm you’d been craving; one you hadn’t experienced since him. and once again, it had gone unaddressed.
the tension was clear; you got peace from the fact he was in the same boat as you.
you hated that he’d walked off so smug that night and you yourself had nothing to brag about, left to accept the fact that you needed him. had missed him.
and he knew it.
so maybe you were tactical, every day the dresses got shorter. bikini’s got smaller. you wanted to see him squirm.
which was easy.
it was ridiculous, how often you felt his gaze burning into you; feeling the heat on your skin from such thing. you’d blame the hot summer sun for the the constant blush on your cheeks but in reality it was him.
made to feel better by the way his jaw was constantly clenched. hands fiddling with one another. leg bouncing impatiently because he was furious with the fact you were no longer his, he couldn’t whisk you away and tear your clothes off like he wanted too.
left to simply stare. dwell on the facts. wish that he somehow gets a moment alone with you again.
there were sliding doors.
two minutes alone underneath the cabin on a boat, both trying to find something to drink. he swore you were about to kiss him before max came bouncing down the stairs.
you’d all gone out one night, somehow it was only you two left at the bar. lando was convinced this was it, he was going to drag you off to the bathroom.
but then arabella appeared, demanding shots.
you’d never admit that you went out to the kitchen most nights, hoping he too would be awake at such ridiculous hour again.
you tried not to get frustrated, even with the knowledge there was only a couple days till you’d be flying back home to reality.
finally however, you got lucky.
lando had gone on a run; unbeknownst to you, who had slept in.
you rejected plans of going to a winery, choosing for a day by the pool to save energy to go out tonight like planned.
your group of friends had attempted to protest your decision, but you insisted. bribed them with a promise you would do some baking while they were out.
that’s where lando found you.
stood in the kitchen. of course.
tiny bikini. typical.
and no one else in sight. lovely.
“smells fucking amazing.” lando hummed; slightly breathless as he sauntered into the kitchen, moving to stand against the island ━ a safe distance between the pair of you.
the voice had startled you, jumping slightly as you turned around.
you smiled appreciatively at his words, attempting to not stare at his exposed torso. tanned skin, beads of sweat decorating it. his muscles only more prominent as he crossed his arms, flexing invitingly.
“would feel bad letting such a big kitchen go to waste,” you explained; shrugging ever so slightly as your eyes returned to the chocolate chip cookies you were currently making. refuge from the sight of him.
he chuckled, and nodded; not that you saw. but his eyes didn’t leave you.
he should go up to his room.
“who’s home?” he couldn’t help but ask, feet planted. he wasn’t going anywhere.
the question had you facing what you were trying to ignore; the fact it was just the pair of you. it was dangerous knowledge.
“just us,” you spoke through a breath. if the tension wasn’t clear before, those two words had it falling upon the pair of you like bricks.
lando nodded once more, lips pursing. you were so tempting. this was what he’d been hoping for. he was impressed he even had the mental strength to consider running off. hiding in his room till your friends returned.
that idea didn’t last long though. moving towards you, you heard him approaching; his presence was demanding.
he was behind you, causing you to freeze. breath stuck in your throat.
“you’re driving me crazy.” he’d whispered, despite no fear of anyone overhearing; and you had to shut your eyes for a brief moment when his lips grazed your ear, ensuring you knew just how in reach he was.
you found some solace in his words, confirming your suspicions. reassuring to know you weren’t the only one going crazy. the only one feeling nostalgic.
“how so?” you played dumb, bottom lip rolling through your teeth ━ regardless your head tilted aside as his lips grazed your skin again, his breath fanning your skin.
you heard him grunt, and it would’ve made you giggle if you weren’t fighting off the urge to jump his bones.
“don’t act like it’s not on purpose.” lando huffed, hands moving to play with the fiddling strings of your bikini, fingertips only just brushing your skin.
you had to draw in another breath, suddenly feeling exposed and vulnerable. you needed some sort of power, just a physical reminder that he too was struggling despite his admission.
so you turned on your feet, eyes flickering up to his as you shrugged your shoulders; breaths slightly irregular from the closeness. right in front of you. trapping you against the counter.
“know you haven’t forgotten that all you need to do is use your words if you want me to fuck you,” lando spoke before you could, oozing cockiness despite his wandering eyes and tense jaw; his patience wearing thin.
once more you were cornered in the kitchen by his attractive frame and blunt words that had your thighs squeezing together.
“goes both ways,” you chimed; worried if you didn’t speak now you wouldn’t get a word in. you knew how this went; it was only a matter of time till you were a mess in his hands.
his eyebrows raised, he even scoffed; if he wasn’t so eager for you to go on he would’ve reminded you it didn’t.
lando always had a kink for making you beg.
“i already got what i wanted,” you hummed; hands moving to rest on his toned abdomen, running down and across the muscles before finding the waistband of his joggers. “something you want?”
your teasing tone had lando remembering just how worked up you got him, how frustrating and almost annoying you were. how annoying it was to deal with your antics that was.
“the other night was more than enough for me baby,” lando mused; not cracking, even with your hands on his body. “always look so pretty when you cum.”
you wish his words didn’t have such a visible effect on you. how flustered you got clear by the way the blood rushed to your cheeks, even while you stood here playing with the waistband of his pants.
it was pathetic; neither of you wanting to crack first, wasting precious time because you both really thought you were above this.
able to be friends. exes who wouldn’t go back to each other.
you knew he wasn’t entirely lying; of course you could remember how you were gifted a man who got off from getting you off. how he’d spent nights with his head just buried between your thighs. making you cum countless of times before he got his dick wet.
“cold shower treat you well?” you huffed; not letting him get away with such thing. as if he wasn’t standing here with the need to fuck you.
he smirked at your words, your attitude more so; the playful banter having been something he’d missed. something that wasn’t the same since things became platonic.
“did the job.” he laughed, hands still ghosting over your hips. “jealous i can still get myself off?” he couldn’t help but chuckle; and your jaw dropped at him using confidential information against you.
your hands still on his stomach, whacking lightly which he only chuckled harder at; and if you weren’t embarrassed you’d be taking in the way the smile was lighting up his face.
“that was not something you’re meant to use against me,” you practically grumbled; eyes narrowing up at him and he practically awed at the sight, adoring eyes and all as his hand moved to cup your cheek. his grin not matching the sympathetic eyes.
“i’m sorry,” he mumbled jokingly as he leant forward; not giving you time to reply as he put the both of you out of your misery, lips connecting with yours.
it wasn’t what you’d both expected, the kiss to finally ease the tension that had been building ever since a few nights ago in the same spot; the kiss was slow. passionate and deep, but not rushed.
it didn’t last long; but was nice in the moment however. to feel him.
the urge to feel more however was soon too prominent.
your hands that had linked behind his neck soon tangled in his hair. the grip he had on your waist soon moved to your ass, squeezing the flesh within his hold which had you leaning into him.
he lazily dragged you back with him, his back hitting the kitchen island as he practically held you against his body; lips moving in sync.
you felt his hard on with the movement, contained by his joggers; your own excitement jumping as your hands left his hair to snake down between your bodies; palming him.
the groan against your lips only motivated you; and while you wish you could do what he does, stand here and tease him; you were too keen to get your hands on him. to hear more of those pretty sounds he makes.
so you simply smiled up at him as you pulled away; bending down and settling on your knees; hands tugging his pants and underwear down with you; revealing his cock.
his breaths were a lot heavier as he watched you, leaning back against the counter ever so slightly, gaze fixed downwards as a small smirk tugged on the corner of his mouth.
he hissed as your small hand wrapped around him; thumb swirling the precum ━ you loving every bit of knowing how turned you got him from just a few words and the sight of you.
he wouldn’t ever deny it either; no one did it for him like you did.
“look so pretty on your knees,” lando praised; eager to gain back some control, despite knowing he’d do anything you asked of him right now; your hand feeling much than his did the other night.
you were eager to continue to please, so you didn’t waste any time in taking him in your mouth. it was as if he knew such thing, by the way his eyes were peering down at you.
his head fell back at the sensation, one he’d missed ━ arms flexing as he gripped the counter; a few curses strung together tumbling from his lips as you practically took him in whole first go.
his tip hitting the back of your throat did little to deter you. it was natural, as if you’d done such thing only a few days ago; not months ━ second nature as your tongue swirled his cock.
your eyes remained up, looking through your lashes as your head bobbed ━ knees uncomfortably shifting against the tiles but it was the last thing on your mind with the beautiful man above you.
taking in the way his abs flexed, neck strained and lips parted as you sucked him off ━ gagging occasionally but both of you knew that was no issue.
“missed this fucking mouth,” lando grunted, hand moving to tangle in your hair; both to keep it out of your way and to just have some sort of hold on you.
he was blindsided with pleasure, more than he remembered he’d be. your bikini did little to leave much to the imagination from his angle, watching as your breasts bounced with every movement. matched with your doe eyes, his jaw was slack.
you hummed as he tugged your hair lightly, the sensation one you always welcomed; and he too was reminded of such as he felt the vibrations around him. tugging again with a little more force.
his groans were gradually becoming more regular, hips bucking once or twice ━ pushing his cock further down your throat each time.
“just like that baby, always so good for me,” lando breathed, eyes screwing such momentarily as his head fell back once more.
you almost whined at the vision, wanting to scramble to your feet and kiss at his skin, feel all over him.
and he’d be happy to let you, he was hesitant in having you get him off first regardless; you hadn’t left much room for argument with good reason.
but right now he had no complaints, moans growing slightly louder in volume ━ grip tightening on the strands of your hair. he didn’t give you any warning as he came, but you didn’t need any.
the way he twitched in your mouth, you didn’t miss a beat ━ swallowing all you could; revelling in the way your name left his lips.
your mouth left him with a pop, gazing up at him to meet his adoring eyes, staring down at you as if you were the greatest thing to grace the earth.
because he did think of you as such. you continued to amaze him, he didn’t grow immune to such thing; just had managed to avoid the fact for a while now.
you stood to your feet, relieving your knees of the discomfort; a coy smile plastered on your lips at him panting and flustered.
you felt even, for the other night; reassured you weren’t the only one in need.
lando couldn’t complain either, couldn’t throw a playful comment towards you ━ not when you stood there with messy hair and swollen lips. all he could think about was turning you into a whiny mess, desperate to have you at his mercy again.
it was clear neither of you knew what to say in the few moments of silence; shamelessly admiring the other, catching your breaths. it wasn’t awkward however.
you were happy to feel his lips on yours once more ━ his hands not shy in wandering your body this time, sliding down to your thighs and hoisting you up immediately.
he was swift in turning around and placing you on the counter, stood between your legs as he hummed against your lips.
it wasn’t until his mouth ducked to your neck, then your collar bones, becoming harder to ignore as your head fell back, growing hot from the kisses he placed where-ever he could, that you spoke up.
“should go to your room,” you managed to get out, watching him through hooded eyes as he simply grabbed the material of your bikini to let your breasts fall free, kissing at the skin of them afterwards.
it wasn’t that you were worried on being walked in on, you had the house to yourselves for at least a couple more hours. you knew that. more so just the knowledge this wasn’t your house.
his eyebrows raised as he looked back up at you, hand sprawling over your stomach as he pushed you back slightly; your body blindly following the suggestion as you leant back on your hands.
“i paid for this villa baby, if i wanna fuck you on the counter i will,” lando murmured, hands spreading your thighs further apart; putting you in no position to argue you.
how could you? his words sounded like a promise, one you could only hope he would keep.
you nodded pathetically, suddenly aware of his hands resting high up on your inner thighs; suddenly aware of your own arousal and need for him.
he discarded of your bikini bottoms with ease, admiring your frame for a few moments as his hand reached to squeeze your breast, nipple rolling through his fingers moments later.
“lando,” you breathed; almost in warning, almost a whine. your legs were still spread and you were already resisting the urge to squirm. your patience non existent.
he only grinned, a slight chuckle maybe as his hands pushed your legs further apart once more.
“i got you baby,” lando hummed. “always so needy for me, you need me yeah? don’t you?” he spoke teasingly, tone painfully sweet as his fingers traced over your soaked folds.
you wanted to curse his obvious teasing, point out how you hadn’t been so cruel. but you knew it’d be no use.
you were scared to admit such thing, huffing as your hips bucked upwards momentarily.
“want to hear you say it.” lando grunted when he realised you weren’t planning on speaking; pinching your clit to get his point across, a strangled moan escaping you as your lips parted, falling into submission.
“need you.” you whined almost shamefully, head falling back as if the ceiling would offer you refuge from his hard stare. “please,”
your pleas were always music to his ears, so much so he debated with the idea of teasing you some more; to draw more whines and please out of you. but the way you were spread for him, so ready; he couldn’t help himself any longer.
you yelped at the sudden feeling of his mouth on your clit, sucking at your sensitive bud; not expecting such feeling as your eyes rolled back.
his hands manoeuvred your thighs to place your legs over his shoulders; giving him full access to your core as sweet moans started to escape you.
“o-oh my god,” you whimpered; eyes flickering to the sight of his head between your thighs ━ back arching as his tongue swiped through your folds, assaulting your cunt relentlessly as if he was starved.
you’d been reminded of how good his fingers were; so much so you hadn’t even considered getting his tongue again.
his large hands were squeezing your thighs, a bruising grip to keep you in place; eating you out expertly.
“lando━ feels so good,” you moaned as if that wasn’t clear by the way your hips were pushing against his hold. your right hand left the counter, moving to tangle in his curls, something to grab.
his blue eyes ventured to the sight of you momentarily, and he groaned into your cunt as he took note of the way your face was contorting in pleasure, how your body flinched with every move he made.
whimpers and moans were free falling, lando enjoying every single one ━ glad you could be as loud as you wanted, as loud as he made you.
you knew you were approaching your high shamefully fast, but had little room to care when you’d failed to reach it so much recently.
lando knew your body too well, could tell by the way you were tugging on his curls and creating more force against the hold he had on your thighs that you were about to cum.
he wanted you to let go, tongue flicking and nose bumping your clit ━ you orgasmed hard, suddenly; cumming on his tongue with what almost sounded like a squeal.
he didn’t stop, letting you ride out your high ━ before pulling away, wiping at the corners of his mouth.
you were mistaken however in thinking you would have time to catch your breath, not getting a word out before lando was moving only one leg off his shoulder and sliding two fingers into your entrance suddenly; thumb landing on your sensitive clit.
your body almost didn’t know how to react, falling back onto your hands that found the counter you sat upon once more to stabilise yourself.
“s’ too much,” you whimpered ━ legs attempting to squeeze shut, failing with the angle caused by one leg draped over lando’s shoulder, which allowed his fingers to hit deep within you.
lando hummed in amusement, knowing how much you could take. knowing you always said that, just to whine and cry out if he were to stop.
“too much?” he mocked; fingers curling and your body jerking. “want me to stop?” he breathed; smirking oh so cockily because he knew the answer. chuckling as you shook your head ‘no’ incredibly quickly.
“didn’t think so,” he huffed; thumb speeding up on your clit, rolling over the bud continuously. it was pure ecstasy, the overstimulation overwhelming your entire body.
his breaths were heavy as he admired you, the way you were shaking beneath him. reminiscent of how easily he could you like this, of the nights he made you cum four or five times before fucking you.
it killed him he didn’t have the time to do so again. but he couldn’t possibly complain right now.
“making a mess baby, all over my fingers,” lando spoke; the filthy sounds of his fingers moving in out of you filling the room, and you weren’t sure you’d last much longer when he entered a third. “so greedy. gonna cum again aren’t you?”
it was like he was three steps ahead of your body, leaving you to whine and nod pathetically.
“yeah? that what you want? to cum again?” lando spoke once more; watching as your head fell back, your eyes screwing shut and it satisfied him to see you feel the pleasure he was giving.
he was hard again, purely from his name sounding so fucking incredible as you moaned and moaned, from the perfection you were.
his hand grasping your cheek had your eyes flying open as lando tilted your head forwards to look at him, eyebrows raised in expectance.
“words pretty girl,” lando reminded, chin still between his thumb and index finger ━ struggling to focus on him with the numbing pleasure that was causing tears to form.
you nodded, before processing what he’d said. words. right.
“please lando,” you gasped; eyes pouring into his, pleading with his as your back arched and legs shook. you weren’t sure you’d be able to stop yourself. “gonna cum,” you whined.
lando felt it had been far too long to be cruel, so he simply hummed in appreciation; smiling lazily as he pushed you over the edge as he curled his fingers once more.
your vision went white, screaming his name as you came again, all over his fingers.
lando’s bottom lip rolled through his teeth at the sight, able to take in every moment, no restraint for either of you and it felt fucking amazing.
his hands gently moved your leg off his shoulder, stood between them as his hands massaged your thighs comfortingly, giving you a few moments to come down and catch your breath.
your eyes fluttered open, and immediately you were smiling stupidly at the sight of lando; his own grin mirroring yours as he hummed quietly.
“you’re so beautiful,” he whispered; unable to stop the compliment from escaping him, and your smile only grew; knowing you’d disagree if you caught sight of your tangled hair and flushed cheeks. 
it had your stomach flipping, men compliment you all the time. only lando would gain such a reaction.
“got another one in you?” his question was gentle; the sparkle in his eye daring, and you had no hesitation in nodding.
“need you inside me,” you mumbled, causing the driver’s smirk to return to its rightful place ━ glad your wants were shared.
you may have gone a long time without, but your stamina hadn’t faulted.
lando was tugging you to the edge of the counter at that, and you easily got lost in the kiss that he placed upon your lips; rough and messy as you melted into his hold.
it’d caught you by surprise, when he tugged you down onto your feet, spun your round and bent you over the marble surface; a gasp escaping you.
“missed you so much,” lando sighed; ushering your legs apart as your breath hitched in your throat. you didn’t know what to focus on, his words, your position or the feeling of his hands on your ass.
the confession wasn’t one you’d hold onto, you knew better than to cling to words uttered during sex. but god it felt great to hear.
“missed you too,” you assured him back, moan slipping past your lips as you felt his tip press against your folds; but he made no further movements.
your hips shook slightly, attempting to entice him ━ so needy despite having cum twice already. you just wanted him. all of him.
his hand moved up your back, tangling in your hair and creating a makeshift pony tail ━ one he tugged on immediately, your head snapping up.
“what did i say earlier? about using your words?” lando leant forward, lips grazing your ear; cock pressed against your entrance, causing you to cry out.
your body was overstimulated, tired; tired of his teasing. out of practice to predict his wants.
“want you to fuck me,” you whined quickly, rushing your words out as your hips pressed backwards. “need you lan, please,” you whimpered; sounding oh so desperate lando couldn’t possibly deny you.
he entered you without any more warning, bottoming out as your walls wrapped around him; your gasps intertwining as you gripped the counter below you.
the cool surface against your front did little to cool you down, moaning at the feeling of being so full. full of him again, after so long.
too long.
“always take me so well,” lando grunted in your ear; giving you a few moments to adjust before he was dropping your hair and standing up straight ━ hands finding your hips now.
his thrusts were harsh, rough and deep; not too slow or too fast, ensuring you felt every inch of him as your aching cunt squeezed him.
every move had your body jolting, moans escaping you; the counter and lando the only reason your legs were able to stay upright.
“so-so good,” you stumbled out, eyes rolling back as your body fell limp, unable to process the pleasure you were feeling. what you’d been deprived of and craving.
the driver too was losing himself in the feeling, head thrown back as he moved in and out of you ━ sounds of skin slapping filling up the large and empty space.
it was a mutual feeling, as to why the fuck this didn’t happen sooner. how on earth you two had been in such close proximity throughout the months and not gotten to this point yet.
safe to say keeping your distance now would be difficult.
lando felt the need to be closer, as if he needed more of you despite having you already at his mercy.
his hand found your neck with ease, wrapping around your throat and guiding your head up ━ causing you to stand up right, back against his chest.
he didn’t apply pressure, yet, but just the feeling of his large hand wrapped around the base of your neck had your legs feeling weaker; split open on his cock meaning lando’s body was the only thing holding you up now.
“feel good?” lando’s question was just him chasing praise, knowing you were fucked stupid; but he couldn’t help but want to remind you just who was the reason you could barely form sentences.
you nodded as much as you could in his hold. always nodding, he could ask or say anything and you’d find a way to say yes.
“only i can make you feel this good hm? only i can make you cum?” lando didn’t stop running his mouth, basking in the fact it was him that had the tears spilling out of your eyes. a sense of pride washing over him.
you choked out a yes, his thrusts having only gotten faster ━ and when his hand applied pressure to your neck you were almost certain you were in heaven.
“so perfect, so fucking perfect for me baby,” lando grunted in praise; and the kiss he pressed to your shoulder blade was a vast contrast to the treatment of your cunt.
it really was too much, the few tears and whimpers made that clear to lando; you were only moments away from cumming again and the thought alone had his own high dawning on him.
“come on angel, cum on my cock. cum for me,” he was speaking in your ear again; and you practically screamed as your third orgasm hit ━ body falling limp in his hold.
the way your walls squeezed him had him cumming with you, groaning as his forehead rested on your shoulder ━ erratic breaths filling the room as he stilled inside you.
all his touches were suddenly delicate, pulling out of you as he moved you to lean against the counter, still holding you up slightly as you caught your breath.
it was a comfortable silence, his hands ghosting over your waist as you pressed your eyes shut for a few moments.
you’d expected some sort of regret. an immediate now what? for one of you to panic or flee.
but instead, neither of you wanted the moment to end.
“want to join me for a shower?” lando broke the silence, a half smile that had you feeling an odd sense of relief.
one he felt too when you smiled right back, and nodded in agreement.
he’d chuckled, you would even go as far as to say he was grinning; hands grasping your thighs and picking you up with ease, carrying you off towards the bathroom.
when your friends returned you had been on the sofa, lando out by the pool ━ strategically placed to avoid suspicion, already under the assumption someone would’ve brought up the fact it happened to be you two who stayed back today.
chatter filled the room immediately, lando trudging in to greet everyone. you having stayed seated, purely because you didn’t trust your legs.
“burnt cookies y/n?” max had spoke across the room; having been first to stumble upon the overdone batch sat on the kitchen island you’d spent the last 15 minutes sanitising.
your cheeks flushed, purely because you could sense lando’s eyes burning into you.
you could picture the cocky smirk plastered on his face.
“yeah. my bad,” you laughed sheepishly.
and you were glad to be the only one paying attention when lando passed the back of the couch, finger grazing your shoulder as he did so.
“my bad,” he corrected; your eyes meeting his smug ones in passing.
━━
a/n: did y’all miss my shitty endings???
anyways idk what this is but here it is
unedited atm so apologies xox
as always appreciate feedback so so much, love u all and hope u enjoy 🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼
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wonryllis · 3 days
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the hot dad next door (m) | park sunghoon.
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﹙ 🎬 ﹚ ぃ ────𝗶𝗳 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗵𝗼𝘁 𝗱𝗮𝗱 𝗻𝗲𝘅𝘁 𝗱𝗼𝗼𝗿 𝘄𝗮𝗻𝘁𝘀 𝘆𝗼𝘂?
preview. the ever quintessential first time dad moves in next door with his five year old and finds it impossible not to fall for you, the pretty girl who gives his daughter cookies and him; the doll eyes. obsessed with your entire being, unable to keep his hands off you, park sunghoon questions if he's just crazy or he's crazy over you.
or where, he notices the way you look at his hands a little too long for it to be innocent.
meet the cast. single dad!park sunghoon with his pretty neighbour fem!reader.
genre. DILFF AUU !!, SMUT MDNI, fluff, neighbours to lovers, sunghoon is quite literally yes insanely crazed over you and for the sake of god can't keep his dick soft, domestic a little bit i guess, i want to make her my wife trope EEEKKK, slight age gap (hoon in late twenties and reader in early twenties) more to be added.
word count. est around 10k or more
warnings. inaccuracies about parenting cause i aint a parent, i got no idea. more will be mentioned in the actual post.
releasing. very soon!! .. progress update tag
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park sunghoon was hot, he was a walking greek god. was single and wore these fitted suits that had you weak in the knees. if that wasn't hot enough, park sunghoon also had the cutest baby girl you had ever come across and it just made him hotter than he could ever have been.
"hey, um .. is ji—" sunghoon stands at the threshold of your open apartment door, one hand holding his creased blazer and the other rubbing at the back of his neck. embarrassed and shy at having to show up at yours looking like a mess after work because his daughter ran off while he was busy on a call and taking out her school bag from the backseat. and because everytime his daughter ran off, it was to the pretty girl next door who gives away sweet cookies all the time.
"is jia here? yeah she's in the kitchen," you answer, smiling soft and knowingly at the worried guy who barely looked like a dad. he worked in a corporate editorial, out before eight in the morning just as you prepared ingredients for your bakery. taking his daughter along to school, her excited voice resonating through the halls talking about how they were going to play with clay in class. around seven in the evening you'd hear her again, this time alone as she would skip over to your door because dada was too slow.
on weekends it'd be impossible to ignore the ruckus they made playing around, sometimes inviting you over for lunch because sunghoon apparently made too much and jia wanted to share her dada's delicious food. on some occasional weekends when he'd be called in to work for a few hours, jia would promise him to stay home and behave only to call you through the landline the moment he'd step out the door. and you would text sunghoon to come over to yours after work, his daughter munching on the new flavored cupcakes you made, unbothered about her dad and his scoldings.
"come on in, i made some almond lime tart, you could give me some feedbacks along with jia. you know she always says it's good and i can never know if it's actually good," sunghoon can't help but chuckle at that, slipping off his shoes by the front and walking inside. his eyes following your figure with a fond look as you tend to his daughter delicately, and might he admit— even more so than him.
you're sweet, you know how to handle kids; cue that one time jia was crying her eyes out after school and he had no idea what to do to comfort her, knocking at your door frantically and having his mind blown at how quickly you figured things out and calmed her down.
you're sweet, you know how to handle kids, you treat them both so well, always ready to help him out with jia, giving them sweet treats every other day and most of all— you're fucking pretty. way too pretty for him to handle.
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taglist ( open. ) @s00buwu @lilyuwon @pockyyasii @nctislifue @shawnyle @enhastolemyheart @belowbun @aaa-sia @niniissus @tobiosbbyghorl @imjakes-wifeofc1 @youresolivlie @eun-cherry @kimsunoops @aiden2001 @brownsugarbaybee @pockettwinzz @bangtancultsposts @diorikis @heelvsted @crimnalseung @iselltulips @yzzyhee @woniebae @river-demon-slayer @lovingvoidgoatee @antonsgirlfriend @kpopslover @bugcattie @slut4hee @yunjinswifee @woniefull @nanaheex @soobs-things @dammit-jjk @starlvcieszsq @mnxnii @skylaly @mintdsunoo @uyuchoco @anittamaxwynnn @rikiwaify-blog @kill4jl @ggparkjh @sstephenzz @judeduartewannabe @jungwoneez @aye2611-blog @hybeboyenthusisast @minjaexvz
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dante-mightdie · 2 days
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Not enough suffering. I need to cry.
The boys just continue to pretend that reader no longer exists. Becoming more of a fly on the wall then a roommate they occasionally fuck.
Soon they just leave you out of everything, dinner? There was not even leftovers for reader, no scrapes left either.
Reader won't leave because they will soon come back around tho right? >:')
god I just love PAIN
c/w: neglect, angst, no happy ending in this one, brief mentions of sex
it becomes a very depressing and very predictable pattern from them. wake up, avoid you then go to sleep. even when they speak to you, they’re never saying much. normally just a reminder that you left dishes in the sink or something mundane
you held out hope for the first few days, especially when simon came slinking over to you one night in the kitchen, bending you over the counter and having his way with you. his rough hands and fast pace made your heart swell solely because you missed having one of them even touch you
but when he just buckled up his trousers and left without a word, you realise you’re still on time out
sometimes you’re asleep before they get home, locked up in the spare room as you sniffle into your pillow. they don’t even come to check on you and you begin to wonder what conclusion they came to on your whereabouts. do they even know you’re at home? do they care?
every day of the month, you and the boys are supposed to set aside a night to go out for a date. seems your invite was lost in the post when you see them all dressed up, talking amongst themselves about the pub they’re going to
“can I come?” you ask, standing in the doorway and playing with your fingers nervously. the laughing and chattering stops instantly, all four heads turning to you as if they didn’t even know you were there. you know what the answer is going to be before any of them say anything
“you won’t like this place. it-“ john starts, and you know he’s about to list off some lazy excuse as to why you won’t like it. as if that was even the point. you don’t go on date nights with them for the actual drinks or decor. you go to spend time with them but they clearly didn’t want you there so you simply wouldn’t go
“whatever.” you mumble, rolling your eyes and turning to leave what was once your shared bedroom so they don’t see the tears in your eyes. you slam the door to the spare bedroom, throwing yourself onto the mattress and sobbing into the pillow
you hear a light tap on the door before it opens. you cease your crying almost instantly, keeping your back turned towards the door. your heart rate picks up and that sick familiar feeling of hope crawls its way back into your chest, “we weren’t saying you can’t come with us. come if you want just don’t make us wait around forever whilst you get ready.”
the sound of kyle’s voice fills the room but you can tell he doesn’t really want to be speaking to you, like simon or the captain told him to come do some damage control so you wouldn’t throw a strop about not being invited. you keep your back turned to him, nuzzling your head further into the pillow
“jus’ go without me.” you sniffle, “it’s not like you really want me there anyway.”
kyle sighs at your words and you hear your door softly click close and everyone’s feet shuffling downstairs before they go out the front door, leaving you alone again
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cutielando · 3 days
Text
mr. and mrs. ~ oscar piastri
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Summary: Wedding of the year is finally here between the two favorite youngsters on the grid. Everyone is invited!
Words: 1.3k+
Other works: my masterlist
♡♡♡♡♡
Oscar and Y/N.
Y/N and Oscar.
Everyone knew them, everyone loved them.
Ever since the young Australian lad had entered the Formula 1 world, Y/N had entered it with him. Always by his side, always attending his races while also attending university.
They had been together for many years, practically having invented the term “highschool sweethearts”. Despite Oscar’s busy schedule and Y/N being at university, they always made it work, never letting the distance affect their relationship.
Moving together to the UK had represented the first sign that they were both in it for the long ride. Packing up their entire lives and moving across the globe to follow their dreams proved that their relationship and the love they had was real.
Real and pure.
When Oscar got the opportunity to drive in Formula 1 and Y/N started her studies, the time they spent together shortened by a significant amount, but they managed to make it work.
They talked on the phone every day, texting when neither of them could speak on the phone, they took every opportunity to visit each other when they had free time, with Y/N visiting Oscar at his races or Oscar coming home when he would have 2 weeks off between races.
They made it work.
But Oscar wasn’t satisfied. He needed something more. He needed something that would put his mind at ease when he would be away.
He needed to officially make you his.
Towards the end of the season, you had a few weeks off uni and decided to join your boyfriend in Qatar for the Grand Prix.
You hadn’t really chosen the best race to attend, the heat and the humidity making it really strenuous on your already tired body. But seeing the smile that Oscar had while doing the grid walk with you by his side made it worth it.
Being there for Oscar’s sprint win had been the highlight of your entire year. Seeing him cross the checkered flag first, seeing his name on that first position on every monitor around the paddock, the feeling was unlike anything you had ever felt before.
Up until the moment Oscar got out of the car.
He made his way over to where you were waiting for him after he celebrated a little with the team, taking off his helmet and balaclava and giving them to one of his assistants.
“How about that?” he asked, chuckling as he pulled you into his arms, careful not to squeeze you too tightly because he was sweaty.
“I’m so fucking proud of you, Os. I can’t believe I was here for your first win” you said, your voice muffled because you had your face buried in the crook of his neck.
“It’s technically not considered a win bec-”
“Shut up and enjoy the moment” you interrupted, making him chuckle and continue hugging you.
As he let go of you, you didn’t notice him reaching for something behind his back, not even his assistant subtly handing him something as he appeared again from the garage. All you could focus on was him, and nothing else around you.
It only really hit you when Oscar lowered himself down on one knee in front of you, a red velvet box in his hand.
“Oh my God” you said, your eyes widening and your hands flying up to your mouth.
All around you, the McLaren team gathered in a circle, phones ready and cameras rolling to catch the sweet moment on camera.
“Y/N, I don’t even know whether words will suffice to say what I want to say right now. You’ve been by my side since we were kids, you moved to the UK with me and left your entire family in Australia just for me, and I can’t even begin to explain how much that meant to me. I can’t imagine my life without you in it, I frankly don’t think I could survive on my own if you weren’t here. I want to grow old with you, I want to have kids with you and build the life we’ve always talked about having. Y/N, will you marry me?” the words got stuck in your throat, so you settled for nodding feverishly.
The entire team around you cheered, but you could only see Oscar. As he got up and slid the ring on your left hand, you threw yourself into his arms and softly cried, the moment far too emotional to be able to hold back.
Your engagement had become national news in a matter of a couple of hours. Every media channel from the world had written about Oscar’s proposal in Qatar, speculating about when the wedding would be and whatnot.
It didn’t even feel like it had really happened when you stared at the ring on your finger, the feeling foreign but so welcome and like it was meant to be.
You and Oscar had multiple talks about when you would get married, where you would have the wedding and many other problems that came with being away from home and everyone’s families.
Which is why you decided to have the wedding back home in Australia.
After the season was finished and the winter break came, you and Oscar had started planning the wedding, which you settled to have after the last race before the summer break. He had already sent invitations out to the rest of the drivers, all of them very eager to attend the young lad’s wedding.
Lando was especially thrilled, but couldn’t help making jokes about how he had never thought Oscar would be the one getting married so young.
“What did you do to him, Y/N? You charmed him pretty damn well” he’d always joke whenever you guys would hang out in the garage before a race.
Yours and Oscar’s mothers took care of most of the things regarding the venue, the flower arrangements and catering, wanting to take the load off of you while you were halfway across the world.
The only thing that you had to worry about was picking your wedding dress and flying over to Australia to get married.
And when the day had finally come, excitement flowed through your veins.
Nicole and Oscar’s sisters had helped do your hair and make-up, your mother only watching as she sobbed quietly in the background.
“Mom, you’re gonna make me cry too if you don’t stop” you told her as you watched her through your mirror, making the other girls laugh.
“I just can’t believe my baby is getting married” she laughed, wiping her tears and walking up to stand behind you.
You smiled and took her hand, mostly to calm your nerves as well.
You were really getting married. And to the love of your life, which was a plus.
After you were prepped and ready to go, your father came to fetch you to walk you down the aisle. Your heart felt like it was going to beat out of your chest as you held his arm tightly and clutched the flower bouquet tightly in your other hand.
But your nerves disappeared like they had never even been there when the doors opened and you locked eyes with Oscar waiting for you at the end of the aisle, Logan beaming behind him as his best man.
The ceremony went by in a blur, the only focus on your part being on Oscar. You only vaguely remembered saying your vows and saying “I do”, your memory only having imprinted the first kiss you two shared as husband and wife.
You were positive that nothing could ever top this moment, getting married with all of your friends and families present, stepping into your new life with Oscar by your side.
Nothing could ever be better.
Nothing could top you becoming Mrs. Piastri.
Being Mr. and Mrs. Piastri.
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badjokesbyjeff · 3 days
Text
There were three race horses; ernie, bill, and ted. 
the three of them were good friends; they enjoyed racing each other and generally won and lost to each other equally. every evening, after the races, they went to a local bar to relax and drink some beer. they would often discuss racing techniques, their families, etc.
one season, bill wasn't doing so well. he rarely beat the other two, and was worried that he'd be sent to the glue factory if his luck didn't change. one night, at the bar, he talked with ernie and ted about it.
"you know, guys, i just can't figure it out," he said. "everything's fine at home; the kids are doing great, my wife is being nice, the bills are paid, my mother-in-law rarely visits - nothing could be better. maybe i'm just getting old. if things don't pick up soon, they'll send me to the glue factory."
the bartender, a big llama from peru, overheard the conversation. he looked around, to make sure nobody else was listening, then said, "hey, pal, i got something for you that'll make you feel like a young colt again." he reached under the bar and pulled out an unlabeled bottle of beer. "here, drink this; i guarantee you'll start winning again. come by each night for a week and I'll give you one. if it doesn't work, i'll give you double your money back!"
bill looked at ernie and ted, who only shrugged, then drank the contents of the bottle. "oh, just one thing," the llama said, "it'll make your ass itch, but that's okay; it's just a side effect. don't worry about it." the three horses stayed a few hours, played a few games of pool and darts, and went home.
over the course of the next three days, they went back to the bar each night, and bill continued the regimen of mystery beer. his racing times did improve! he was slowly moving back up in the rankings, and was soon back into the top three with ernie and ted. bill was ecstatic, and thanked the llama profusely.
"hey, my pleasure," said the llama.
a few weeks passed by, and ernie started slowing down. after losing three races in a row, he sobbed to himself, "i just don't get it. my life couldn't be better. i can't believe I'm getting old! they'll send me to the glue factory if i don't get back in the groove!"
that evening, at the bar, he told the llama bartender about his troubles, and asked if he too could try the mystery beer. "okay, but remember, it'll make your ass itch - but don't pay it no mind. it's just a harmless side effect."
"no problem. it'll be worth it to get back in the groove," ernie said.
a few days went by. ernie's ass did indeed itch, but after a few more days, his races improved, and he was back in the top three with bill and ted.
at the bar one evening, ernie bought a round of beers for all the horses, and thanked the llama profusely.
"i just can't believe how great that mystery beer worked!" ernie said. "you're sitting on a gold mine, there!" the llama said it was his pleasure, don't worry about it, etc.
a few more weeks went by, and now ted started slowing down, losing races. he, too realized that he'd be shipped off to the glue factory unless his races improved.
"say," he said to the llama one night after a particularly humiliating loss, "i think i need to try that mystery beer too. they'll ship me off to the glue factory for sure if I don't start winning again."
"no problem," the llama said, pulling out an unlabeled bottle. "here. come back every night, and i guarantee you'll be back in top form again, or i'll give you double your money back."
over the course of the next few weeks, ted's races continued to improve until he was back in the top three with bill and ernie. he pranced into the bar, full of vim and vigor, and thanked the llama profusely. "you know, my ass itches a lot; it's almost unbearable. but i can't thank you enough. they would have turned me into glue by now if it weren't for you. anything you want, let me know and i'll see what i can do."
"no problem," said the llama, "i make this beer at home using an ancient inca recipe. it's just my way of thanking my regular customers for their patronage over the years."
"i'm not kidding," ted said, "this is the greatest thing that's ever happened to me. anything, you name it, anything you want, let me know, and it's yours."
"well, now that you mention it..." the llama began -
right then, a greyhound walked up to the bar. he was obviously depressed.
"barkeep, give me something strong. i'm on a losing streak you wouldn't believe," the greyhound said.
ted looked at the greyhound, then at bill and ernie, and said, "hey, look! a talking dog!"
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kingkaizen · 3 days
Text
𝓻𝓸𝓾𝓰𝓱𝓮𝓻
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∘ desc: although things are going great with your boyfriend nanami, sometimes you think he's too nice in bed. who better to ask for some pointers than from nanami's opposite, gojo satoru <3
∘ ft: nanami & gojo
∘ word count: 2.7k
∘ includes: voyeurism, threesome, pussy slaps, spanking, face fucking, edging, dacryphilia, dirty talk
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Nanami is the best boyfriend that you’ve ever had.
No matter everything that you’ve been through together in the last three years, nothing has ever made you doubt the amount of love you had for each other. You absolutely adored everything about him. After being friends for years before getting together, it wasn’t hard to fall so deeply in love with the man that he’s become. Being able to come home to him is everything that you’ve ever wanted and more.
But, of course, all relationships come with their issues.
When Nanami received a message from you saying that you had to talk, his heart immediately dropped. What could he have done wrong? Was today a special day that he forgot about? Did he accidentally leave the toilet seat up? What could possibly be it? He rushed home from work, unlocking the front door to see you sitting on the couch.
“Is everything okay?” Nanami questioned, slipping his shoes off and placing them neatly on the floor along with pinning his coat on the rack. “Your text worried me.”
“No, Kento. Everything is fine, I promise, come sit with me.” You gestured to the cushion next to yours, trying to keep him calm. You knew that texting him like that would elicit this concerned reaction, but what you’re about to say could not be said through a simple text message.
“Kento, when I say this to you, I need you to know that I love you so much and you are an amazing boyfriend okay?” Nanami nods his head slightly, eyebrows slowly coming together in complete anticipation of what’s about to come out of your mouth.
“I want you to start being rougher with me in bed.”
Finally coming out and saying it, you felt like a weight being lifted off of your chest. Nanami always treats you like glass, in and out of the bedroom. Although you love how gentle and loving he is with you, you need something more. You can’t help but think back to all of the times that he would come back home from work, irritated about something that happened. How good it would feel for him to take out those emotions on you. But, knowing your sweet boyfriend, that thought would never cross his mind. 
“Am I not satisfying you enough? I thought you enjoyed our intimate moments together…” Nanami responds, his brain thinking back to every single night you’ve spent together in the past. Why hasn’t he seen this before? Knowing that he hasn’t been satisfying you in the way that he thought hurt him much more than he was willing to admit right away.
“No, that’s not it at all. You know that you always make me feel good. I just want to change things up a bit, that’s all.” You placed an encouraging hand on his thigh, prompting him to look up at you. “I know you, Kento, don’t think too much into it. I love every moment that we have together, I just want us to try something different, that’s all.”
Nanami took in all of your words, making a pact to himself that he will change things for the better. He understands what you want, he’s just not sure how to fully give that to you. How he is in bed is exactly the way he is outside of that: sweet, loving, and overall just concerned. He would never forgive himself for hurting you in any capacity, so living up to your request will be a challenge for him. Who better to ask than his complete opposite in every single way?
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“She wants you, Nanami Kento, to be rough?” Gojo almost can’t help but laugh at the thought. It’s not laughable because Nanami doesn’t have a rough side to him, Gojo of all people would know how it feels to be on the opposite end of that. The funny part is that he can’t imagine him being rough towards you. Even from an outsider looking into your relationship, anyone could see how he treats you.
“I didn’t tell you this so that you could laugh at me, Satoru, I’m asking for your help.” This request from Nanami also humored Gojo. Finally, after all of these years, Nanami is actually voluntarily asking for his help.
“How exactly do you expect me to help you? Do you need me to demonstrate?” Gojo laughed as he said this, waiting for Nanami to show some sort of disagreement in his face.
That look never came.
“That is actually exactly what I want you to do. I know the type of history that you two have, I’m not an idiot. All of these years since we’ve all been friends before we started dating, I would see the way you would look at each other. I know that there is chemistry there and I wouldn’t be surprised if you have been intimate before.” Nanami looked at Gojo, seriousness etched across his face. “I want you to show me how to treat her the way that she wants to be, I only want her to be happy.” As much as Nanami hates to admit when Gojo is better than him in any sort of way, he knows the truth when it comes to this. He sees how other women have fawned over him, and it must be for good reason.
“I’ll teach you how to fuck her like a slut.”
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The sight of two shirtless men is enough to excite anyone. After telling Nanami what was on your mind, this is the last thing that you expected him to do. Of course he brought this up to you before this moment, always wanting to ensure your comfort. It was hard to disagree, you’ve been with Gojo years prior but it was never anything serious. Always flings, Gojo was never the “relationship type”. 
“So gorgeous, my love.” Nanami always admired how ethereal you looked, both in and out the bedroom. He caressed your face, planting soft yet firm kisses on your lips, growing more and more passionate by the second. Gojo was sitting on the chair in the corner of the room, watching with an intense gaze. You would think that having another man watching the two of you would freak you out, but it weirdly turned you on. Gently, as always, Nanami laid you down on the mattress, fingers finding their way to your covered breasts, exposing them to his hungry mouth. After moving the fabric, his lips puckered around your nipple, tongue pushing on the hardened nub as you ran your fingers through his hair.
“Kento, I need you so bad.” You whimpered, the impatient side of you coming out already. You know Nanami, you know that it doesn’t take much begging to get what you want. You know how bad he wants you too, he can’t help but fully oblige to every word you say.
“I know honey, I’m going to give it to you.” Nanami had no self control when it came to you. Gojo rolls his eyes in the corner, finally making his presence known.
“Nanami, you can’t let her talk to you like that.” Gojo slowly began to touch his growing bulge through his pants. “It’s like you already forgot everything I told you.” He stood up and walked towards the two of you, Nanami moving to the side. Gojo gently gripped your chin, turning your head to look him dead in his eyes.
“If you want something from him, you’re going to have to earn it.”
You nodded your head, his authoritative tone sending a wave of pleasure throughout your body. Following his discrete directions, you kneeled in front of your boyfriend, fingers playfully toying with the zipper in his pants as you pulled it down along with the rest of it. You kissed his hard length through the last piece of fabric still left on his body, looking up at him through your lashes.
“D-Don’t tease me like that, (y/n)”. Nanami loved this obedient side of you, even if he wasn’t the reason you were acting this way. Before he could even process, Gojo lightly tapped the side of your ass, sending a slight sting throughout your body.
“Tease him like that again and you’re gonna have to make yourself cum. Now say sorry.” Gojo threatened, backing away once again to see how this unfolds. By now, he has fully released himself from the confines of his pants, fingers wrapping around his girth as he slowly began to pleasure himself at the sight.
“I’m sorry.” You looked up at Nanami once more, pulling away the last piece of clothing separating your awaiting mouth from his leaking tip. 
“I’m sorry what?” Gojo sneered.
“I’m sorry sir.” Your pleading voice made Nanami groan, watching as you finally began to wrap your lips around the tip of his cock. You began to put your tongue to work, swirling it around his head while keeping your lips firmly around the top, sucking in. Nanami could tell that you were still in a teasing mood, refusing to go any lower than that. Suddenly, you could feel his hand find its way to the back of your head, forcing you to let more of him in. Nanami would never do something like this normally, his forcefulness with you turning you on tremendously. Gojo laughed, approving of Nanami’s sudden confidence boost. It’s arousing to him too, watching you take all of him so deep in your mouth, gagging on his length as he throws his head back.
“That’s it, take it all.” Nanami grunts, “I love how messy you look, choking on me like that.” He could feel you moan around his length at his words, thighs rubbing together in anticipation of what’s to come. “I know how wet you are already, if you want some help you have to ask for it okay?” 
No matter what, Nanami is still always keeping your needs in mind, noticing how soaked you're starting to become. He removes himself from inside your mouth, allowing you to fully breathe. You look so beautiful, tears threatening to spill from your lash line and saliva coating around your mouth. He helps you back up to your feet, leading your body to lay backwards onto the bed, callused fingers catching any tears that manage to slip. “Tell me what you want.”
Your gaze moved from his eyes over to Gojo. “I want you both. Please sir, just touch me.” You felt pathetic as you begged, your core pulsing with need. You’ve never felt this sensitive before, everything feeling that much more intense given how hungry the two men in your presence are. 
“Aww, what a little slut you are.” Gojo grinned, making his way closer to you. “What do you think Nanami, has she been a good girl for us? Should we give her what she wants?” Gojo’s fingers began to rub on the outside of your panties. “Look at how wet she is for us.” Gojo showed Nanami your slick on his fingers, watching it glisten underneath the lowlight. 
“I think she has been a good girl.” Nanami smiles at you, so proud of how well you’ve been doing for them. “Go ahead, Gojo, you can touch her.”
“Finally.” Gojo quickly moved your panties to the side, the coolness of his touch catching you off guard as he teased the inside of your folds. “You don’t understand how torturous it was watching you without being able to touch you yet.” He makes quick work of finding your clit, slowly rubbing his thumb on your pearl as he watches you begin to writhe underneath. “Don’t forget why you’re here slut. You wanted to be treated like this so bad and now you got it. Beg for it.”
“P-Please Satoru, please touch me. I can’t take it anymore, I need it so bad.” You pleaded, beginning to feel helpless underneath him. Gojo smirked, plunging his slender fingers inside of you unexpectedly. You felt your body arch up in surprise, a gasp leaving your mouth as pleasure began to consume your body.
“So fucking greedy.” Gojo began slowly at first, catching a rhythm. “Look at how she’s drenching my fingers.” Nanami rubs himself at the sight, growing impatient. You’re too far gone to notice, feeling your own orgasm already beginning to slowly creep up in intensity. Before you know it, you're cumming all around his fingers, eyes rolling to the back of your head. Gojo quickly pulls his fingers out, not doing anything to help you ride it out. “Who told you that you could cum?” He taps his hand against your pussy repeatedly, watching you moan in a mix of pleasure and pain and you slowly come down from your high. “What a fucking whore.”
“I’m sorry sir, I couldn’t -fuck- I couldn’t help it.” You sob, looking at Nanami. You’ve never seen him look so angry. He didn’t say anything to you, only twirling his finger around, motioning for you to flip over. You quickly follow his que, not wanting to do anything to tick him off further. You can’t fully process that this is happening, your Nanami actually treating you this way.
You fucking loved it.
You felt his familiar touch rub over your ass as you got on all fours, arching your back slightly. He groaned at the sight of your wetness, glistening core almost calling out to him. He rubbed his tip against your folds, feeling your hole try to suck him in. Meanwhile, Gojo is sucking your juice off of his fingers, loving the taste of you.
“Get on with it Nanami, if she wants to be punished so badly then so be it.” Gojo made his way in front of you, rubbing the tip of his cock against your plush lips. “We told you what would happen if you didn’t listen, right? You have to be a bit smarter than that sweetheart.” The syrupy tone of his voice didn’t match his actions as he parted your lips with his head, feeling you wrap your lips against his girth. With that, Nanami finally pushed himself all the way in, moaning in unison along with you. Gojo could feel the vibrations of your moans against him.
Nanami gave you no time to adjust, pounding his entire length into you with such force that caused your mouth to hang open in shock. You felt so good, brain completely fogged over with no thoughts other than the complete monster that Nanami has become. He’s never fucked you like this, usually preferring soft thrusts over the hard pounding that he’s subjecting yourself to now. You suddenly felt a sharp slap on your ass, his large hand rubbing the sting away almost just as quickly as he placed it.
“Don’t ignore Gojo now, honey. I thought a slut like you would love to have two thick cocks filling you up this way?” Nanami questioned, picking up the pace which made it so much harder for you to focus. Gojo wasn’t having that. He placed one hand on each side of your face, holding it in place for him to thrust his hips against you. His cock filled your mouth, spit sloshing everywhere as your face got messier and messier.
“Fuck (y/n), you’re doing so fucking good for us princess.” Gojo moaned, the sounds coming from the room overwhelmed his senses. The bed creaking, you struggling to take Nanami while also pleasuring Gojo, and the sound of Nanami’s balls slapping against your ass sounded like music to his ears. Nanami couldn’t believe how hot this all was, feeling as your walls began to quiver around him.
“You’re gonna cum again baby?” Nanami asked, gripping your hips tighter as he felt himself get even closer. Gojo was already almost there, hips beginning to stutter as he watched you cry out. All you could do is whimper in response, the knot in your stomach growing tighter and tighter. Nanami made it there first, his thrusts becoming more erratic as he spilled himself inside of you. Ropes of cum flooded in as he fully pressed himself against you, beads of sweat threatening to drip off his nose. Gojo soon followed, shooting his load into your mouth as you took it all.
“Such a good girl.” Gojo mused, wiping the side of your mouth when he finished. He proceeded to kiss you, tasting himself on your tongue. Nanami pulled himself out slowly, watching in delight as his seed slowly dripped out of you. You whimpered at the now empty feeling, your orgasm slowly starting to retreat.
“You’re not going to finish me off?” You angrily turned to Nanami, watching the smirk begin to creep up his face.
“Not unless you beg for it.”
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© kingkaizen | do not copy, steal, or duplicate!
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ceilidho · 3 days
Text
take me home, country road
[ao3]
You have nothing on your person apart from a hastily packed suitcase and the dress you came into town wearing, on the run from trouble back home. Too bad John's missing a bride that matches your description. Or: the 1800s (mistaken) mail order bride au (chapter 12) [note: trigger warning for a pretty rough spanking scene with a belt and minimal aftercare. if you need to, you can skip to the midway point (there's a line between the first half and second).]
first chapter >> last chapter
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He keeps your hands tied behind your back on the ride home.
All that does is confirm the fact that he must know. Graves must have tracked him down or perhaps he was approached by someone who did consider your sudden arrival in town suspicious. Why else would the sheriff chase you all the way into the mountains on horseback and then take you back with him? He would’ve within his rights to leave your thieving self to wander alone in the woods and succumb to the elements.
John doesn’t say a word the first hour of the ride back. You can feel the anger emanating from him though. He almost shakes with it. His anger somehow upsets you more than whatever is left to come. 
“Anytime you wanna start talkin’, I’m all ears,” John finally says, breaking the silence. 
You keep your lips pressed together, stubbornly silent. There’s no use giving yourself away before you’ve learned how much he knows. You haven’t built this life of yours with loose lips. 
“I don’t know what in the Sam Hill has gotten into you,” he continues, and his voice is cobblestone tread rough in the night. “Running off all by yourself. There ain’t nothing out in these parts except outlaws and highwaymen. There are men out here that’d love to get their hands on a woman like you—not even a knife to defend yourself with. You haven’t even got a scrap of food on you, never mind water. You’d’ve been dead in a week if the men out here hadn’t picked you off themselves.”
His words make your stomach ache. You know that there are worse things out there. A thousand gruesome ways to die. You’re less of a lady than John might think—you’ve heard stories. You’ve brushed close to that reality yourself. You wonder how he’d take it if you were to tell him about what had happened back east. 
Maybe running away this time hadn’t been your smartest idea, but it had been your only. You can’t fault yourself for the instinct to survive. 
“I know,” you mumble, dropping your chin to your chest. 
“You gonna explain to me why you stole my horse and ran off in the first place?” he asks. 
It’s the strangest interrogation you’ve ever heard of—sitting on the same horse with your back to the man questioning you and your hands tied together at the wrists. You wonder if you leaned back whether you’d feel his heart beating furiously in his chest. 
You remain mulishly silent though, reticent to answer the question.
“Maybe I’ve been spoiling you,” he continues, trying to rationalize it to himself. “After the fuss you put up those first few days, I thought a bit of structure and discipline would do you well, and it did. Giving you a bit of slack was my mistake.”
You frown at that. Those don’t sound like the words of a man with any knowledge of the circumstances leading to you running off. He might not even have come across Graves at all in the hours since the man made his appearance in the general store. Otherwise, you can’t imagine how he wouldn’t make the connection. 
Still, you can’t make yourself come right out and say it, even though every iota of your being aches to let the truth out. Call it nerves overpowering the need to be truthful and good. You vacillate between honesty and self-preservation, but each avenue feels like being dropped into a nest of vipers. 
But he doesn’t know. He doesn’t know. If he knew, he wouldn’t question you like this. It’s a boon you can’t give up, not yet. Not when the thought of his inevitable righteous fury fills you with dread and self-loathing. 
“I don’t have to explain myself,” you spit out suddenly, and it’s not you saying those words but something ugly and sad in you. “You’re not my owner.”
“I damn sure am your husband though,” John growls, winding his free hand around your hair to tug you back into his chest. “And I know these parts far better than you, little miss. Beyond running off on me for no good reason when I thought we put your reticence behind us, you went and put yourself in danger the likes of which you couldn’t even fathom.”
“I’m not an idiot,” you snap. “I know what men are like.”
“You’re telling me you pulled that stunt knowing what kinda danger is out there in the woods?”
“I wasn’t thinking!”
“I know you weren’t,” John grunts. “That’s the issue.” 
The rest of the ride home is uncomfortably quiet. John keeps one hand clamped on your waist while the other holds the reins of both horses, the two walking alongside each other back down the trail towards the house. The ride home is a lot longer than the ride out into the woods since John refuses to let either of them go faster than a slow trot while your hands are tied behind your back. 
He snorts in derision at your suggestion to undo your binds. “That eager for your punishment?” 
That gets you to zip your lips. 
When you get drowsy, John tips your head back and makes you sip from his waterskin. His hand fits carefully around your throat to hold your head in place, his fingers curling around to just graze the nape of your neck. Your throat pulses under his palm when you swallow. It’s far too intimate for how restless you feel, damn near shaking out of your skin, but it briefly shushes the voice in your head until he pulls his hand away. 
A shadow under the doorway of the house startles you at first before it takes a step into the faint light of the setting sun and you recognize the bristly blond of Simon’s shorn head and the red bandana shrouding the bottom half of his face. The tension ebbs back into you when you realize with creeping humiliation that the black horse you rode home on must belong to him. 
He watches the two of you approach with predictable disinterest, his eyes betraying nothing. The shame is excruciating. 
John brings the horse to a halt some feet from Simon, not bothering to greet him. You wonder if it’s the anger choking him or if this is just routine, men trading favors in silence lest a word in gratitude break the spell. After dismounting himself, John helps you down, all but picking you up and lifting you off the horse. 
Simon doesn’t say a word to either of you when he takes the reins from John’s hands, giving him only a curt nod and you a cursory glance before leading his horse away to mount. He doesn’t spare you a backwards glance before taking off back towards town. You watch him over your shoulder while John guides you up the porch steps and into the house, until the shape of him disappears into the horizon. Then the door shuts behind you. 
Alone now, your attention turns back to John. He stares down at you consideringly, a hand planted on the door he just shut until he lets it fall to his side. You can see the gears turning in his mind, weighing something out. 
It wouldn’t be right to call it anticipation; it’s not quite dread either. 
“I don’t make idle threats, you know,” he says, apropos of nothing. 
His words make you frown until you glance down to find him undoing his belt. Your blood turns to ice. He tugs the thick strap until it comes sliding out of each loop around his waist. The buckle rests heavy in his palm, thick fingers curling around it, and when he bends the belt in two, you already know that he intends to follow through with his threat from earlier, the one you said you’d gut him for.
“I’ll scream,” you warn, heart in your throat. It almost chokes you. “I mean it. I’ll scream like the devil.”
“Don’t go makin’ no empty threats now, darlin’,” he says in a low voice, almost taunting. You can hear the hard edge in his voice though. It’s not something he craves, but he’ll take it. 
“You touch me with that thing and I’ll never forgive you.” 
John’s eyes go hard. “I’ll just have to take that chance.” 
And then he’s on you.
He hooks an arm around your waist when you try to rush past him back out the door and it forces the breath out of you. 
You struggle as best you can with your hands tied behind your back, trying to wriggle out of his hold even as he heaves you up into his arms and climbs the staircase towards the bedroom. The steps creak under the added weight of you in his arms. The screams come tearing from your throat, ripping your vocal cords and nearly sending you into a coughing fit. 
“Let—me—go—” you shriek, kicking out wildly, hoping to catch something that’ll make him lose his balance. 
“All that squirmin’ ain’t making me feel more merciful,” he growls. 
John kicks the bedroom door open with his foot when he reaches the top of the staircase. The room looks ominous without the oil lamp lit, the shadows growing in the corners swallowing up the end table. The bed is just as you made it this morning, the sheets pressed tight and neat, and you only get a second to take that in before he marches towards the bed and throws you down onto it.  
You hit the bed hard, bouncing slightly. He sits down heavily enough to jostle you and when you try to roll away on instinct, a hand catches you by the bicep and pulls you back. He hauls you across the bulk of his thighs this time, far different from your first meeting back in the sheriff’s office all those weeks ago. Your feet don’t even touch the floor this time around, dangling in the air and flailing for purchase. 
“You brute—you bastard!” you screech.
“I’m not gonna be as charitable this time,” John says, yanking your dress up and your drawers down until your bare bottom is exposed. You gasp at the cold air, murmuring something like please, please, please under your breath. “Even if I knew why it was you decided to run off, that doesn’t excuse the fact that you did. You coulda been hurt or worse out there, darlin’, and I’d never have forgiven myself. I’m gonna make sure the lesson sinks in this time.”
He folds the leather belt to hold it in one hand, leaving the other to pin you down over his thighs, making sure you don’t wriggle out. The leather is cool at first when he drags it over your butt. It makes your breathing pick up. It’s so gentle that you can almost trick yourself into thinking that it’s all he intends to do. 
The first lash comes so quick that you barely register it. The second knocks the wind out of you, and then the pain sets in. 
It stings something fierce. Where his palm hurt that first time he bent you over his desk and spanked you, the belt burns. It goes deep and it lingers when he pulls the leather away from your stinging bottom. 
“Hurts like the dickens, don’t it?” John asks, not bothering to wait for confirmation before bringing the belt down again. “You’re lucky it’s only ten this time.”
You howl into the bedsheets, eyes tearing up and spilling down your cheeks. When you try to cover your ass with your bound hands, John grabs them and pins them to the small of your back. 
“What’ll you never do again?” he growls. 
“I—I’ll—”
“Say it, darlin’: I’ll never run off on my own again.”
“I’ll—n-never gonna—oh, it hurts, John—please—”
At some point, you must say the words he’s looking for. You lose count of how many times his belt has struck across your ass. Like thunder coming after lightning, you feel it and then you hear it. The sharp snap comes as a second wave of agony in and of itself. 
Your throat is stripped raw by the time it’s over. The aftermath finds you with a puddle of drool under your cheek, hair matted to your face. Sweat slicks the backs of your thighs and down your spine. Even the gentlest brush of John’s hand over your backside, the belt deposited off the side of the bed, makes you flinch, the skin there tender to the touch. You’ll surely feel it deep in your bones come sunrise. 
Too exhausted for anger, all you can do is lie there. It sits heavy in your stomach though, a pit at the center of you. You want to say, who gave you the right? The answer burns a ring around your finger though. You want to say, you don’t understand, it had nothing to do with you. It has everything to do with him and you. 
You can tell he wants to say something. It gets choked in his throat, but you can hear it in the way his breath draws in, like he’s trying to coax it from his chest but it simply won’t come out. 
“Stay right there,” John rumbles instead, shifting you onto the bed to let you lie on your belly. 
You moan in pain when he moves you, sniffling into your arms. The crook of your elbow is sticky with your tears and snot. 
The bed dips under his weight when he comes back. You flinch violently when he draws the skirt of your dress up again and smooths his hand over the tender cheeks of your backside, spreading a cool salve over your skin. The first touch of his hand makes you hiss, tears beading in the corners of your eyes again, but then the cool sinks in, alleviating the ache. 
He does that for another few minutes in silence. Gentle, tentative touches, only stopping when the salve has been spread evenly over your bottom. He’s quiet when he shifts you up the bed until your feet are no longer dangling off the end. You’re distantly aware of him taking off your shoes and tucking you into bed, but the events of the day have finally gotten the better of you. It would be easier to push a boulder up a hill than crack even one of your eyelids open.
Time passes slowly; sluggishly. Your thoughts can’t quite catch up with it, either too quick or too slow. You’re stuck in thoughts of the desert, caught in a sandstorm that manifests too suddenly for you to take cover. All you can do is close your eyes and wait it out. 
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Morning comes like a brutal summoning into the waking world. 
It hurts, but you expected that. Before your eyes even open, you’re aware of a throbbing pain coming from your backside. You wince when you shift to your side, squeezing your eyes tight. You contemplate rolling over and taking your chances with John’s temper. The thought isn’t as appealing in the light of day though. 
It takes some time to get out of bed and when you do, you have to step tentatively from floorboard to floorboard, the ache making it decidedly uncomfortable. You can’t imagine what sitting down will be like. Riding a horse is just out of the question. 
From the bedroom window, you see John standing in front of the house with Simon, back again not even twelve hours later. With the window closed, you can’t hear their conversation, nor can you read their lips. Their exchange doesn’t last long though. After another minute or so, and a nod goodbye, Simon walks back over to his horse standing nearby and lifts himself up and over onto the saddle, taking off towards town. 
When John turns back towards the house, you see him glance up towards the bedroom window where you stand. The circles beneath his eyes are dark, pronounced. On another day, you might’ve ducked out of sight or jumped away from the window, but now you hold his gaze. 
He breaks your stare first this time, heading back inside. It’s less satisfying than you thought it’d be. 
You spend the day resting in bed and avoiding John for the most part. He spends the majority of the day out of the house. You hear him downstairs in the kitchen around midday, fixing himself up something to eat, and you listen attentively to the scrape of the chair across the floor and the pan on the stovetop. Like the day he brought you home, he brings you up a tray only to leave it at the door, rapping the door with his knuckles to let you know before heading back downstairs. 
When he comes up for bed, you’re already lying down with your back to the door, the oil lamp left unlit. John doesn’t say anything to you as he changes into his nightwear. He smells fresh when he climbs into bed, like he bathed in the creek out in the woods. You breathe in deeply, trying to keep your breath quiet enough to not disturb the silence. The pillow under your head is saturated with his scent. You turn your nose into it when he lies down on his back instead of curling into you like he usually does. 
Your chest aches at that simple denial. There’s a wall between the two of you and you know where it came from. Any trust that you’d built lies in ruins now. 
Perhaps that’s not quite right though. It’s a romantic notion that you’ve been building something together all this time, but it doesn’t feel right now that you have the wherewithal to look back and reflect. All this time, whenever you’ve touched, you’ve held him steadfast and at an arm's length away, stopping two degrees short of intimacy. 
Deliberately effusive; and worse, you’ve called it affection. 
The tenderness in your heart is the worst of it. There’s a bruise there, and it’s been there awhile. It’s only grown with your recent troubles. You tell yourself every year that you’ll air it out come spring, but then the winter comes and it freezes over again.  
The pillow under your chest grows damp with your tears. 
Your dress the next morning is cornflower blue. The wheatfields are golden stalks swaying in the breeze. It’s a pleasanter day than how you feel. 
The ride into town is as painful as you thought it might be. You wince with every stride, your bottom still tender as a rose. John’s arm tightens around your waist when you squirm, like you might slide off the saddle and try to flee again, and you bite your lip to hold back the urge to snap. 
The little bit of independence you’d grown to enjoy is snatched away from you. You expected that as well, but that loss of privilege comes with a biting ache. You fight the urge to gnash your teeth and bark at him that you’re not a child when he grips you under the arm and leads you down the road. It wouldn’t do you any good. 
When John leaves you off at the general store, you’re surprised to find Kate back, hale and hearty. She looks up when the chime over the door jingles and raises her eyebrows in greeting. The sound makes you flinch, memories coming back unbidden. 
You look over your shoulder to say something to John before he leaves, but the door is already closing behind him by the time you turn around. Your lips are pursed on a word that dissolves in your mouth. It has a bitter aftertaste. 
“Thought you wouldn’t be back for a few more days,” you say instead, turning back to Kate. There’s already a chair pulled up for you by the wall and you make yourself comfortable there, grimacing at first when your sore backside touches the wood before settling in. 
She shrugs. “Plans changed. Gaz and I made it back late last night.”
You frown. “Gaz?”
“Kyle Garrick. Sorry—slip of the tongue. You’ve met him already. He used to go by Gaz way back when.”
“Way back when?”
“Not my story to tell. You should ask one of them, if you’re curious.”
You are, but not enough to ask. “Maybe.”
The two of you lapse into silence after that exchange. Before leaving the house, you remembered to bring with you some needles and wool to pass the time. They’re not as familiar in your hands as you’d like them to be, but you suppose, barring the possibility of Graves or another bounty hunter showing up in town to cart you off, you’ll have time to learn. 
The thought leaves you anxious. It feels distinctly more possible now. 
“You met Miles while I was away?” Kate asks, out of the blue.
Your head comes up at her question. “Miles?”
“He was minding the store for me while I was away. Said you came in the other day.”
You swallow reflexively. “Oh. Yes, I suppose I did meet him. I didn’t stay long, since you were gone and all.”
She hums and looks back down at the book in front of her. You feel nervous all of a sudden. 
“He said you were very helpful,” she says abruptly, breaking the silence. You flinch. “Told me some gentleman came by with a warrant for a murder back east and you were kind enough to take it to your husband for him so he could keep minding the shop.”
Your throat constricts. She pins you under her gaze, unblinking eyes staring into yours but not looking for anything. Wispy blonde bangs brush along her forehead when she tilts her head ever so slightly. 
You nod instead of answering. 
“Did you give it to him?” she asks.
“I didn’t have a chance to. The day got away from me,” you say tersely. 
“I heard something about that. Kyle said John had to borrow Simon’s horse the other day. Said something about him taking off in a hurry.”
Again, you don’t answer. It feels like without knowing it, you’ve crossed over a threshold. 
“Do you still have it?” Kate prompts when again you don’t respond. You don’t tell her that you don’t because in all the fuss the other day, it must have slipped out of your pocket and drifted off into the wind. “The warrant?”
“No,” you whisper, shaking your head. 
“That’s alright. I have a good enough idea about what it might’ve said.” 
Sweat beads on your upper lip. She all but says it outloud. You’re as still as a ferrotype under her gaze, imprinted in place, unable to move so much as a muscle or force a word past your stiff lips. 
“You’re under no obligation to tell me or anyone,” Kate says, and her voice is suddenly gentle, softer than you’ve ever heard it before. “I’m sure you had your reasons. I won’t be telling John, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
“Oh. Thank you,” you breathe, throat so tight that the words almost don’t come out. 
It’s the closest you’ve come to admitting to it, tangentially or not, and even now it’s spoken only out of the corner of your mouth. You don’t think you have it in you to recite the events sequentially. Even in the privacy of your memory, it comes piecemeal, in fragmented images that flicker across your mind because maybe to remember it whole would be too much. 
You don’t say much more after that, and neither does Kate. That wasn’t the point of bringing it up, you think. You'd know if it was. 
When John comes to fetch you at the end of the day, you leave without saying goodbye to Kate. Only a stiff smile before heading out on your way. If she returns your smile, you don’t notice it. To John, you simply duck your head and follow him out the door, letting him help you up onto the horse without a word. 
If it bothers him that you refuse to speak to him, he doesn’t show it. 
It’s so many steps back that you might as well be back where you started. Maybe even further back, a voyage gone so wrong that when you look over your shoulder, you can’t make heads or tails of where you came from. The trees from the other side of the trail never look quite the same. 
If you could open your mouth and say it, you would. If you knew he’d listen. But you don’t think John is that kind of man. Against the gold of the setting sun, he cuts a figure from times of yore. He speaks plain while you tend to speak in fricatives and bilabial stops, incapable of enunciating the words. 
You feel like a wound on the world. Getting it wrong again and again. 
It’s an old pain, one that started back when you were too small to hold it all. Now, you’ve grown large enough to hold it, though it holds you back in turn. You remember your parents studiously ignoring first creation like some noxious cloud billowing from the chimney. There’d been too many children for them to care about the runt. Shipped off to your aunt’s and uncle’s just for the cycle to repeat itself. 
It’s an old grief, this one, friendly because it nudges at your hips when you brush by, striking in the blue-green. And when it burns, it burns.
“John, I—” you say when he helps you down back at the house. 
He stares down at you, waiting you out. Your mouth goes dry, the truth beyond your grasp again. Your heart aches when his brows furrow and the lines around his eyes crease again, frustration welling beneath the surface. 
You understand. It sits under your skin too. 
"Go inside," he says instead when you don't go on. "I'll bring in the horses and start supper."
Your God sits at the edge of the bed, wholly lacking praise. It’s not His fault that it’s been awhile. These days, you can hardly muster up the energy to say hello. You gargle saltwater before you bathe and scrub your skin free of blood, waiting for the next morning to come.
And you think, lying on your side while John sleeps on the other side of the bed, wouldn’t it be lovely to get it right now, rather than in retrospect?
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Text
My Missing Piece
616!Wanda x 199999!Fem!Reader
Summary: You've lost your wife Wanda. Leaving you alone with your twin boys to try and pick up the pieces. What happens when the Scarlet Witch comes looking for her boys?
Word Count: 10.4K
Warnings: 18+ MDNI, R calls W Mommy, W uses pet names, enchanted strap use, Dom!Wanda, sub!reader, overstimulation, magic restraints, depressive thoughts/episodes.
A/N: Made this forever ago and forgot about it until like two days ago lol. I really liked the idea of this so I hope you guys enjoy~ Also I decided that world 199999 (which was the original MCU world number before MoM turned it to 616) is just a parallel world where no one died :)
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Every night after tucking my boys, Billy and Tommy in to bed, I have a bit of me time. Sometimes I watch TV, sometimes I'll scroll through social media on my phone, sometimes I'll write because I was told that was supposed to help with grief, it hasn't so far, what helps the most is when I talk to her before bed, "I miss you Wands...our boys miss you too...of course they love their Mama, but you're their Mommy. You carried them for nine months, you were in labor for just over a day." Tommy was born first 12 minutes ahead of his brother Billy. "You gave so much for our boys and our life here and I wish you had never said yes to that mission after all these years..." I break down, quiet sobs wrack me as I curl up on her side of the bed. It still smells like her.
I let sleep take me as I have the same dream I do every night. Wanda, but not Wanda...some twisted version of her with black fingers, and she just seems off, but she's searching, as if she can see me? She's looking for our boys. Every morning just as she finds me, us, I wake up. Dried tears on my cheeks and my eyes red. The bags under my eyes have never been darker, but I cover them up as I get out of bed to start yet another day without my wife.
The alarm blares through the quiet of the room, jolting me awake from my restless slumber. With a heavy sigh, I reach over to silence it, rubbing the sleep from my eyes. Another day begins, much like every other since she left us.
I stumble out of bed, the weight of grief still heavy on my shoulders as I move through the motions of the morning routine. It's a struggle to keep it together, but I have to be strong for Billy and Tommy. They need me, even though every fiber of my being aches for her presence.
As I make my way downstairs, the memories flood back, hitting me like a tidal wave. Wanda was always the light in our lives, her laughter echoing through the halls, her warmth enveloping us like a comforting embrace. But now, there's only emptiness.
I try to push the thoughts aside as I prepare breakfast for the boys, forcing a smile as they bound into the kitchen, their youthful energy a stark contrast to my own weariness. They chatter excitedly about school and friends, oblivious to the pain that lingers beneath the surface.
After they've eaten and headed off to catch the bus, I sink into the solitude of the empty house once more. It's in these quiet moments that the ache is most palpable, the absence of her presence a constant reminder of all that we've lost.
I find myself drawn to her belongings, unable to resist the pull of her memory. Running my fingers over the familiar objects, I'm transported back to happier times, when our love felt invincible, untouchable by the darkness that now threatens to consume me.
But amidst the despair, there's a flicker of something else. A determination, a resolve to keep going, if not for myself then for her. She wouldn't want me to wallow in sorrow, to let the grief consume me. She'd want me to live, to cherish the memories we shared and find solace in the love that still remains.
With a deep breath, I push myself to my feet, wiping away the tears that threaten to fall. Today may be another struggle, another battle against the pain, but I refuse to let it defeat me. For Wanda, for our boys, I'll find the strength to carry on, one day at a time.
The day went by quickly and soon enough the boys were home filling up our home with noise once more,
"Boys homework first or no ice cream!" I call from the kitchen when I hear them start to fight over player one controller.
"Awww but Mama!" They whined.
"So you boys don't want ice cream tomorrow night either I see." I hear them grumble and then the TV go off, the sound of the dining room chairs scraping as I look over my shoulder to see they're working. "There are my good boys." I turn back smiling as I carry on with prepping dinner. Suddenly something feels off. A pit in my stomach starts forming and I feel eyes on me, not the boys though these feel predatory.
I look up and through the window I don't see my own reflection, I see Wanda, the same one I see in my dreams.
My heart leaps into my throat as I freeze, the knife in my hand forgotten as I stare wide-eyed at the impossible sight before me. It's her, but it's not. The twisted version from my nightmares, black fingers reaching out like tendrils of darkness, eyes filled with a hunger I can't comprehend.
I feel a chill run down my spine as her gaze locks onto mine, a shiver of fear coursing through my veins. Instinctively, I reach for the pendant hanging around my neck, fingers brushing against the smooth surface of the purple power stone embedded within. It's a comforting weight, a reminder of the power that pulses through me, but even it feels insignificant in the face of this apparition.
"What do you want?" I manage to choke out, my voice barely above a whisper. But she doesn't answer, only continues to stare, her presence suffocating in its intensity.
Desperation claws at the edges of my mind as I struggle to make sense of the situation. Is this some kind of illusion, a trick of the mind brought on by grief and exhaustion? Or is she truly here, some twisted echo of the woman I loved?
Before I can gather my thoughts, a sudden crash from the dining room snaps me back to reality. The boys, my precious boys, oblivious to the danger that lurks just beyond our walls. With a surge of adrenaline, I lunge forward, grabbing the nearest weapon within reach.
But as I turn back to face the window, she's gone, vanished into thin air like a wisp of smoke. The only evidence of her presence is the lingering sense of unease that hangs heavy in the air.
I rush to the dining room, relief flooding through me as I find the boys unharmed, their laughter filling the room once more. But even as I hold them close, a sense of dread lingers, a silent reminder that darkness still lurks just beyond the edges of our reality.
"Mama is everything okay?" Billy asks as I hold them, kissing the top of their heads.
"I just thought one of you got hurt. I'm happy you boys aren't." I lie to them as to not worry them, but Billy looks at me trying to search my thoughts. "Hey no mind reading little man." I ruffle his hair. "Everything is fine. If you boys are finished you can play one game, dinner will be ready in 15 minutes." The minutes tick by slowly as I finish preparing dinner, the aroma of comfort food filling the air. I glance at the clock, realizing that my boys are engrossed in their game, blissfully unaware of the turmoil swirling within me.
With a heavy sigh, I take a moment to compose myself before calling them to the table. As we gather for the meal, laughter and chatter resuming, I try to push the unsettling encounter out of my mind. But deep down, I know it's not over.
As we eat, the boys share stories from their day, their infectious joy momentarily easing the ache in my heart. I force a smile, savoring these small moments of normalcy in our fractured world.
After dinner, as the boys retreat to their rooms for the night, I find myself once again standing by the window, staring into the darkness beyond. The pit in my stomach returns, the unease settling in as I feel a presence lingering just out of sight.
The room is silent, save for the hum of the refrigerator and the distant sounds of the night. I close my eyes, summoning the courage to speak the words that linger on the tip of my tongue.
"Wanda, if you're out there, if you can hear me, please... don't hide. I don't know what's happening, but I can't face it alone. I need you, now more than ever." My voice trembles with a mix of desperation and longing.
The air remains still, the response elusive. I wait in silence, hoping for some sign, some reassurance that I'm not losing my mind. But the universe remains silent, withholding its secrets.
"Gods I feel like I'm going crazy Wands...how am I supposed to do this without you?" I feel the hot tears in my eyes, streak down my cheeks then suddenly a loud bang from the living room, the sound of a portal. "Stephan? Is that you?" It wasn't uncommon for Stephan Strange to pop in and check on me and the boys. Stephan had lost his love many years ago. Before I reach the living room, I hear the familiar sound of heels clicking on my hard wood flooring. Suddenly I'm standing face to face with the Wanda I've seen in my dreams...."W-Wands?" I questioned,
"A version. I've lost something precious to me and I've come to get it back." I look her over. It's Wanda, but not mine. As I get closer, Her hair is a different shade, her eyes are a little less of an emerald green and more of a sea green, this Wanda has a scar on her forehead, just above her left eyebrow.
"Oh...what has your universe done to you Detka?" I ask softly reaching out and she grabs my wrist with a force.
"It took everything from me." She seethed. "I want my boys back. I'm taking them." She tosses me aside like I'm nothing. Luckily with the power stone embedded in my chest. I push back, barreling back into her. Tackling her to the ground until I'm on top of her and it's then that she notices my stone, "You have the power stone...how? That's impossible. I've seen it kill people that touch it.
"I'm tough that's why my Wanda loved me." I had her pinned and used my own magic to subdue her. "I've been called the Violet Witch here for years. It became my code name."
"That can't be..." I give her a questioning look. "I'm the Scarlet Witch." She tells me, the scarlet witch? Wanda never said anything...? I stumble back off of her, reeling, "The Scarlet Witch." I let out a dry chuckle, "It makes sense, but I can't let you take my boys. If I loose them then That means I've lost my Wanda and them. I might as well die." I tell her,
"Wait so your Wanda is gone?" She asks. I nod,
"She was needed for a mission. I begged her not to go, we had retired from being Avengers 10 years ago when we found out she was pregnant. She told me everything would be fine. She promised me...and then suddenly I have Strange and Parker on my doorstep with Bucky and Sam behind them carry the casket." I feel my eyes blur as I walk over to the scarlet witch, "If you are another her then," I take her hands putting them up to my temples and ease my forehead onto her, letting my memories over the past ten years flood through her mind.
As our minds intertwine, I feel a rush of memories flooding into her consciousness. The love, the loss, the moments of joy and heartache that have shaped my existence since Wanda's departure. It's a whirlwind of emotions, a bittersweet symphony of love and grief that binds us together in ways I never thought possible.
For a moment, there's a flicker of recognition in her eyes, a glimmer of understanding amidst the chaos of her own turmoil. She sees the depth of my pain, the desperation to hold onto the fragments of a life that's slipping through my fingers.
But as quickly as it came, the moment passes, and she pulls away, her expression hardening once more. "I'm sorry for your loss," she says, her voice tinged with a hint of sympathy. "But my pain is just as real. I've lost everything too, and I'll do whatever it takes to reclaim what's mine."
I feel a pang of empathy for her, a shared sense of anguish that transcends the boundaries of our separate worlds. But beneath it all, there's a primal instinct, a fierce determination to protect my boys at all costs.
"I understand your pain," I reply, my voice steady despite the turmoil raging within. "But my boys are not yours to take. They belong here, with me, with their family."
She narrows her eyes, her resolve unwavering. "Then we're at an impasse," she says, her tone final. "I won't leave without them."
I take a step forward, meeting her gaze with steely determination. "Then I guess we'll just have to see who's stronger," I say, my voice echoing with a newfound resolve.
With that, the battle lines are drawn, two versions of Wanda Maximoff facing off against each other in a clash of wills and power. But amidst the chaos and uncertainty, one thing remains clear: no matter the outcome, I'll do whatever it takes to protect my boys and honor the memory of the woman I loved.
Her eyes meet mine, a mixture of pain and longing mirrored in their depths. The tear I wiped away lingers on her cheek, a testament to the shared sorrow we both carry. The silence stretches between us, heavy with unspoken emotions, and for a moment, time seems to hang suspended.
"I... I don't know if I can stay," she whispers, her voice choked with emotion. "But the offer, it means more than you can imagine. In my world, everything has crumbled, and I'm left with nothing but ashes and echoes of what once was."
I can feel the weight of her words, the burden of her grief, and I tighten my grip on her cheek, desperate to convey the sincerity of my plea. "Wanda, you don't have to face this alone. You're not just a version of her; you're your own person, with your own pain. But here, in this universe, you have a chance to rebuild, to find a new kind of family."
She opens her eyes, the sea-green gaze locking onto mine. There's a vulnerability in her expression, a crack in the stoic facade she wears. "I'm so tired," she admits, a raw honesty in her voice. "Tired of loss, tired of fighting. Maybe... maybe it's time for a different path."
A tentative smile plays on her lips, and my heart skips a beat. I wipe away another tear, this time a tear of relief. "You don't have to decide now," I say softly. "Take the time you need. But know that here, you have people who care, people who understand loss and are willing to help you carry the burden."
The room seems to brighten, as if the weight of the universe has lifted, if only for a moment. And in that moment, I see a glimmer of hope, a possibility for healing and connection that transcends the boundaries of our fractured worlds.
"I need to know one thing." She speaks, "Is Vision alive?" my brows furrow together.
"Vision? Who is that?" I ask genuinely confused.
"Wait...how did we meet here?" She asks.
"Oh well we met in Sokovia. We were protesting Stark together at a rally. Your brother flirted with me first and I never let him live that down especially when I married you and he was my best man." I smile at the memory. "Anyways, we were approached by Hydra and experimented on. They had the mind stone and the power stone. You and Pietro were exposed to the mind stone and I was too, but nothing happened unlike you two so they put me in a room with the power stone. It decided my chest was it's forever home. I ended up breaking us out from the Hydra base with the help of the Avengers who had caught word of the base. The three of us joined the Avengers and the rest is history." I tell her.
"So no Ultron? Sokovia didn't fly in the air? What about the Sokovia accords?" She throws question after question.
"No idea what you're talking about love. We carried on doing small missions, taking down hydra and radicals, but the three of us spent a long time training before they let us out doing field work." I tell her.
"Three? Is...is Pietro..?" Her voice breaks.
"Alive? Yeah of course." She falls to her knees and starts sobbing.
"Mommy?" Billy is at the middle of the stairs and the look in Wanda's eyes.
"Yeah baby it's Mommy." Wanda opened her arms and the little speedster found his way into her arms." Her eyes spilling over tears.
"Mama said you weren't coming back." Billy whispered.
"Mama didn't think I was, but Mommy always finds a way back to her boys." Wanda pulls back and looks up at me. "I'm staying...how could I say no when this is just about the most perfect version I could ask for?" I smile and start crying again as Tommy joins us before I can even blink. "Our little quick silver." Wanda smiles hugging the boys, her boys.
Tears of relief blur my vision as I watch Wanda embrace our boys, her boys, with a tenderness that speaks volumes. Billy and Tommy cling to her, their small arms wrapping around her tightly as if afraid she'll disappear again if they let go. And in that moment, I realize that this is where she belongs, with us, her family.
I join them on the floor, wrapping my arms around them all, unable to contain the overwhelming flood of emotions that threatens to consume me. "Welcome home, Wanda," I whisper, my voice choked with tears.
She looks up at me, her eyes shining with gratitude and love. "Thank you," she says softly, her voice trembling with emotion. "For everything."
Together, we sit in the warmth of our embrace, a makeshift family forged from the ashes of our shared past. And as the night stretches on, I can't help but feel a glimmer of hope amidst the darkness, a belief that no matter what trials may come, as long as we have each other, we can weather any storm.
========================
The days blurred together in a haze of longing and uncertainty, each moment tinged with the ache of what could have been. Wanda's presence in our home was both a blessing and a curse, a constant reminder of the love I had lost and the impossibility of reclaiming what was once mine.
I watched her interact with the boys, her smile forced but genuine, her laughter a melody that echoed through the halls. And yet, beneath the surface, I could sense the weight of her own grief, the burden of a past that refused to let her go.
I tried to be strong, to be there for her and the boys, but every smile felt like a lie, every laugh a hollow echo of the joy we once shared. And in the darkness of the night, when sleep eluded me and the silence pressed in like a vice, I found myself haunted by memories of another Wanda, a version of her that existed only in my dreams.
She was so close, yet so far away, a phantom presence that taunted me with what could have been. I longed to reach out to her, to hold her close and whisper words of love and comfort. But she was gone, lost to me in a reality that no longer existed.
And so I forced myself out of bed each morning, steeling myself against the pain that threatened to consume me. I buried myself in the routines of daily life, seeking solace in the mundane tasks that kept me tethered to reality.
But no matter how hard I tried to push her memory away, she lingered in the shadows of my mind, a ghostly specter that refused to be forgotten. And as the days turned into weeks, I began to wonder if I would ever find peace, if I would ever be able to let go of the love that still bound me to her, even across the vast expanse of the multiverse.
My Wanda and I had always had a policy of no mind reading since we could both do it, but this Wanda pokes at my thoughts constantly. Reminds me to smile through telepathy. One morning after a really good dream with another Wanda I can't get myself out of bed. Everything is too much. I know I had told her I'd be fine, but I'm not.
"Come on Y/N. Time to get up." I turn away from her, curling up into a ball further. "Y/N? What's wrong?" She asks.
"Nothing just tired. Just tell the boys I don't feel good. I need a Mama's day. So they can have a Mommy day. Take them out, get them ice cream. Do whatever you want." I grumble.
"Okay..." I close my eyes, letting myself drift back off just needed to see her again.
I don't know how much time has past when I'm being woken up, "Detka...come on wake up." My eyes blink into focus as I look at Wanda sitting above me and smile, forgetting my reality for a moment before my smile drops.
"What?" I ask.
"I dropped the boys off with their uncle for the weekend." I sit up straight,
"You did what!?" I screech.
"I left them with Pietro for the weekend. He was more than happy to have a boys weekend. Something about taking them to the lake?" Wanda mentions.
"He takes them every summer, usually it's a family thing and we all go." I tell Wanda.
"Well I figured you needed a Mommy and me weekend. I want to take you out. I want to get to know you. I already know my boys, but you. You're different, new, you aren't like Vision. You're human." She cups my cheek, smiling and I know it's a genuine smile. "I'm sure you've been feeling neglected and I wanted to try and do this sooner, but the boys were too excited to have me back." She says as I lean into her touch, Gods how I missed her touch. Though her fingers were no longer black her nails seemed to permanently stay black which made me laugh as I compared it to her emo phase which apparently this Wanda had one too.
"Thank you," I whisper, my voice catching in my throat. "For understanding."
She smiles, a warmth in her eyes that belies the weight of her own pain. "We're in this together. You don't have to carry the burden alone."
With her words echoing in my mind, I find the strength to push myself out of bed, to face the day with renewed determination. Wanda's offer of a Mommy and me weekend is a lifeline, a chance to rediscover myself amidst the chaos of grief and longing.
As we spend the day together, exploring the city and sharing stories of our pasts, I feel a sense of peace settle over me, a reassurance that maybe, just maybe, there's still hope for a future filled with love and laughter.
And as the sun sets on our day together, I realize that while Wanda may not be my Wanda, she's still a beacon of light in the darkness, a reminder that even in our darkest moments, there's always someone willing to stand by our side, to offer a hand to hold and a shoulder to lean on.
With her by my side, I know that no matter what the future may hold, I'll never have to face it alone. And as we head home, the weight of grief feels a little lighter, the shadows a little less daunting, as we embrace the possibility of a new beginning, together.
When we got back home, I pulled her to the couch, "Time to watch sitcoms." I tell her and her face lights up.
"Dick Van Dyke?" She asks.
"No Detka. I want to show you my favorite this time. It's a more modern one. It's an animated sitcom though is that okay?" I ask, realizing this Wanda maybe never experienced animated and only enjoyed live action ones.
"Of course dorogoya." Her accent popping out sent a wave through me that landed between my legs.
"O-okay good." I say and get 'Bob's Burgers' playing. As the show starts I settle in with a slight distance between us, but she pulls me in against her side.
"Is this okay dorogoya?" She asks looking down at me.
"Y-yeah...of course." I move slight, readjusting to get comfortable as we fit together like two missing puzzle pieces and I let out a sigh of relief, that feels like so much weight is taken off my shoulders.
As the episodes of "Bob's Burgers" played on, I found myself relaxing into Wanda's embrace, the tension that had been coiled tight within me slowly unraveling with each passing moment. Her warmth seeped into my bones, a comforting presence that chased away the lingering shadows of doubt and fear.
With her by my side, the laughter that bubbled up from the screen felt genuine, a reflection of the newfound camaraderie we shared. And as I stole glances at her profile, illuminated by the soft glow of the television, I couldn't help but marvel at the beauty of the moment, the simplicity of just being together.
Her laughter mingled with mine, the sound music to my ears, a symphony of joy that filled the room with warmth and light. And as the credits rolled on the final episode, I turned to her, a smile playing at the corners of my lips.
"Thank you," I said softly, my voice barely above a whisper. "For today. For everything."
She returned my smile, her eyes shimmering with affection. "Anytime. I'm here for you, always."
I sat there staring at her, getting lost in her eyes so much that I don't even realize that she's leaning in until she's inches from my lips, she stops and I can feel her breath on me, my own hitching,
"Is this okay dorogoya?" She whispers in a husk against my lips.
"Y-yes." I manage out as she kisses me softly at first, testing the waters, but soon enough she's kissing hungrily, like she's starving for my taste now that's she's had a nibble. My fingers find their way into her hair, getting tangled in her auburn locks. One of her hands is on the back of my neck and the other is on my hip, gripping tightly, I can feel her nails digging in.
The world falls away as our lips meet in a fiery embrace, a collision of passion and longing that ignites every nerve ending in my body. Her kiss is intoxicating, a whirlwind of desire and need that sweeps me away in a tide of sensation.
I lose myself in the taste of her, the feel of her lips moving against mine with a hunger that mirrors my own. Our breath mingles in the space between us, hot and heavy with unspoken desire, as the intensity of our embrace grows with each passing moment.
Her hands are everywhere at once, trailing fire along my skin as she pulls me closer, her touch igniting a wildfire of sensation within me. I cling to her desperately, losing myself in the dizzying whirl of pleasure that consumes us both.
Time loses all meaning as we surrender to the passion that binds us together, lost in a world of our own making where nothing else matters but the fiery connection that burns between us.
And as we finally break apart, breathless and trembling, I find myself drowning in the depths of her gaze, a silent promise of more to come lingering in the air between us.
In that moment, I know that this is just the beginning of our journey together, a journey filled with love, passion, and endless possibility. And as we cling to each other in the aftermath of our shared passion, I can't help but feel a sense of gratitude for the unexpected twist of fate that brought us together.
User
"Bed. Now." Her eyes lit up red for a moment. My Wanda had never been dominate, but this Wanda before me exuded dominance. I didn't waste any time getting up the stairs with her hot on my tail as we crashed into the bedroom, stumbling to the bed in a heat of kisses as she took the leading role.
The air crackled with electricity as we stumbled into the bedroom, our lips locked in a frenzy of passion and desire. Wanda's presence was intoxicating, her aura radiating power and dominance in a way I had never experienced before. And as she took the lead, pushing me onto the bed with a hunger that sent shivers down my spine, I felt myself surrendering to the raw intensity of the moment.
Her kisses were demanding, igniting a fire within me that burned hotter with each passing second. I moaned against her lips, my fingers tangling in her hair as I lost myself in the heat of the moment. Her touch was electric, sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through my body as she explored every inch of my skin with a hunger that left me breathless.
With each caress, each whispered word of desire, I felt myself falling deeper under her spell, my body responding eagerly to her every touch. And as she claimed me as her own, I surrendered to the overwhelming tide of sensation, losing myself in the ecstasy of our shared passion.
In that moment, there was only her, only us, lost in a world of pleasure and desire where nothing else mattered but the intoxicating connection that bound us together. And as we moved as one, bodies entwined in a symphony of passion, I knew that this was just the beginning of our journey together, a journey filled with love, lust, and endless possibility.
The sensation of relinquishing control, of surrendering completely to someone else's will, was both exhilarating and liberating. As I basked in the warmth of Wanda's dominance, I found myself embracing a side of myself that I had long suppressed, a side that craved the thrill of submission and surrender.
With each touch, each whispered command, I felt myself sinking deeper into the abyss of pleasure, my mind consumed by a haze of ecstasy that left me breathless and yearning for more. And as Wanda took the lead, guiding me with a firm yet gentle hand, I found myself surrendering to the overwhelming tide of sensation, losing myself in the intoxicating dance of pleasure and desire.
In her arms, I felt safe, cherished, and utterly alive, my body responding eagerly to her every touch and caress. And as we moved together in a symphony of passion and desire, I embraced the freedom that came with letting go, allowing myself to be swept away by the currents of our shared passion.
For in that moment, there was only her, only us, lost in a world of blissful surrender where nothing else mattered but the exquisite pleasure of our connection. And as we surrendered to the ecstasy of our shared desire, I knew that this was just the beginning of our journey together, a journey filled with exploration, discovery, and boundless pleasure.
"Ah...Wands..." A smack hit my thigh making me jolt and yelp.
"That's not my name Detka." I feel my stomach flip. I call her this all the time. I have for years now, but never in this setting. Another smack and then her teeth find my skin, biting and sucking harshly, marking me.
"Mommy!" I can feel the smirk against my thigh.
"Good girl. Go on. Show me how needy you are baby girl." Her fingers find themselves between my folds as I move my hips against them.
The sensation of her touch sent shivers of pleasure coursing through me, igniting a fire that burned hotter with each passing moment. I arched my back, pressing against her fingers as they explored the depths of my desire, teasing and tantalizing with a skill that left me trembling with need.
"Please," I whimpered, the word spilling from my lips in a desperate plea for more. Her touch was electric, sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through my body as she pushed me to the brink of ecstasy.
With each caress, each stroke, I felt myself teetering on the edge of oblivion, my senses overwhelmed by the intensity of our shared passion. And as she whispered words of encouragement, urging me to let go and surrender to the pleasure that awaited, I felt myself surrendering completely to the overwhelming tide of sensation.
In that moment, there was only her, only us, lost in a world of blissful abandon where nothing else mattered but the exquisite pleasure of our connection. And as I succumbed to the ecstasy of our shared desire, I knew that this was just the beginning of our journey together, a journey filled with passion, intensity, and boundless pleasure.
The sensation of Wanda's magic enveloping my wrists sent a thrill of anticipation coursing through me, a tangible reminder of her power and dominance. I tested the restraints, feeling the firm hold of her magic as it kept me securely in place, my heart pounding with a mixture of excitement and arousal.
"Safe word. Green, yellow, red. Green is keep going, yellow slow down, red is stop." Wanda husked.
"Green, yellow, red," I echoed, committing the safe words to memory as a reassurance of our mutual trust and consent. With each breath, each whispered command, I felt myself sinking deeper into the heady haze of pleasure, surrendering completely to the overwhelming tide of sensation.
As Wanda continued to explore my body with a skillful touch that left me trembling with need, I surrendered myself to the ecstasy of our shared desire, knowing that in her arms, I was safe, cherished, and utterly alive.
And as the intensity of our passion grew with each passing moment, I found myself teetering on the edge of oblivion, my senses overwhelmed by the sheer intensity of our connection. In that moment, there was only her, only us, lost in a world of blissful abandon where nothing else mattered but the exquisite pleasure of our shared desire.
I don't think there is a place she hasn't marked on me in some way and after hours of edging until I couldn't form sentences she finally let me release. A string of moans ripping through me as the most intense waves roll over me as I drown in them, covered in sweat and her marks.
As the waves of pleasure washed over me, leaving me trembling and spent, I basked in the afterglow of our shared passion, my body still tingling with the echoes of our ecstasy. But just when I thought the intensity had peaked, I felt something pressing against my entrance, a sensation that sent a jolt of anticipation coursing through me.
I gasped, my body instinctively tensing as Wanda's touch ignited a new wave of desire within me. Her fingers teased and tantalized, exploring the depths of my desire with a skill that left me breathless and eager for more.
With each gentle thrust, I felt myself opening up to her, surrendering completely to the overwhelming tide of sensation. The pleasure was exquisite, a symphony of ecstasy that echoed through every fiber of my being as I lost myself in the blissful abandon of our shared desire.
And as Wanda continued to guide me with a firm yet gentle hand, I surrendered myself to the pleasure of our connection, knowing that in her arms, I was safe, cherished, and utterly alive. In that moment, there was only her, only us, lost in a world of blissful abandon where nothing else mattered but the exquisite pleasure of our shared desire.
Wanda soon enough needed more and so did I, "Faster...ha-ah...harder..." My breath hot against her, panting like a dog and that gave her the perfect opportunity to place her fingers in my mouth, gaging me with them, but I loved every second as I sucked on them, moaning against them as I tasted myself on them from earlier.
The sensation of Wanda's fingers in my mouth sent a thrill of arousal coursing through me, a heady mixture of pleasure and desire that left me panting and eager for more. With each thrust, each gasp of pleasure, I eagerly sucked on her fingers, tasting myself on them from earlier.
The taste was intoxicating, a symphony of desire that heightened the intensity of our connection as we moved together in perfect harmony. And as Wanda responded to my pleas with a fervor that mirrored my own, I surrendered myself to the pleasure of our shared desire, knowing that in her arms, I was safe, cherished, and utterly alive.
With each thrust, I felt myself teetering on the edge of oblivion, my senses overwhelmed by the sheer intensity of our passion. And as we reached the peak of ecstasy together, I knew that this was just the beginning of our journey, a journey filled with passion, intensity, and boundless pleasure.
In that moment, there was only her, only us, lost in a world of blissful abandon where nothing else mattered but the exquisite pleasure of our shared desire. And as we surrendered ourselves to the ecstasy of our connection, I knew that this was just the beginning of our journey together, a journey filled with love, lust, and endless possibility.
As I slowly regained my senses, the cool towel on the back of my neck and Wanda's comforting presence helped anchor me in reality. Her magic gently caressed my mind, offering reassurance and care as I took in the aftermath of our intense encounter.
"Easy, Detka. You're okay," she murmured, and I found solace in the warmth of her embrace. I took the offered water bottle, sipping slowly as she continued to tend to my well-being. The realization that I had passed out from pleasure left me both surprised and amused.
"Never happened before," I admitted with a chuckle. "The other Wanda was more of a sub, so I was usually the one in control. Not that I didn't enjoy it, but being on the receiving end is a whole different experience."
Wanda's magic fetched a baggy shirt, and as I recognized it, a wave of nostalgia washed over me. It was a shirt from a concert we attended when we were sixteen, a tangible link to our shared past.
"It's good to know not everything is different," I remarked, smiling as she kissed my temple.
In the warmth of our makeshift cocoon, surrounded by blankets and pillows, Wanda's magic weaving a protective barrier around us, we continued to watch 'Bob's Burgers.' However, my focus was no longer on the show; instead, I found myself captivated by the woman holding me close.
A sudden wave of fear and doubt crashed over me as I wondered if this intimate encounter was just a one-time gesture to alleviate my grief. The fear of being tossed aside after a momentary respite haunted my thoughts, threatening to overshadow the joy we had just shared.
Wanda, sensing my internal struggle, gently addressed my concerns. "Hey, woah, Detka. Those thoughts of yours are the farthest thing from the truth. Do not listen to them. I would never do that to my soulmate," she reassured me, her forehead finding mine in a tender gesture of connection.
"I love you, Y/N," she confessed, her words washing away my fears and opening the floodgates to a cascade of happy tears. "I love you, Wands! I didn't think I'd ever get to hear you say those words to me again," I admitted, clinging to her shirt as I sobbed into her.
Wanda's promises echoed in my heart, a vow to cherish and reaffirm our love every day. She kissed away my tears, each tender touch a testament to the depth of her commitment. "I promise I'm going to say it every chance I get. I'm never going to stop. I'm going to remind you every day how beautiful you are and how much I love you, and I promise I'm never going to leave. No missions. Nothing like that. I'll always be by your side," she declared, her own tears mingling with mine.
In that moment, as we drowned in each other's love, I knew that this second chance at happiness was a gift we would both cherish. And as Wanda whispered, "I love you," over and over, I felt the weight of my grief lifting, replaced by the warmth of a love that transcended time and space.
========
In the midst of my peaceful dream, I found myself enveloped in a sense of tranquility unlike any I had experienced in well over a year. Waking up with a smile on my face I turn my head, looking over I gazed upon the sleeping form of Wanda, her features softened by the gentle embrace of slumber, I felt a rush of overwhelming love and affection welling up within me.
With a playful smile tugging at the corners of my lips, I leaned in closer, pressing gentle kisses along the curve of her neck. Each tender touch elicited a soft moan from her lips, a melody of pleasure that echoed through the stillness of the night.
Lost in the intoxicating embrace of our shared intimacy, I continued to shower her with affection, reveling in the warmth of her presence and the depth of our connection. And as I whispered her name, a soft murmur of adoration, I knew that this moment, this fleeting glimpse of happiness, was a treasure to be cherished for all eternity.
As Wanda began to stir awake, her voice still heavy with sleep, I couldn't help but feel a surge of affection for her. Her words, though tinged with a hint of warning, only served to deepen the bond between us.
"You're playing a dangerous game, kotenok," she murmured, her voice laced with sleepiness.
"Shchenok," I corrected gently, a small smile playing on my lips.
Her eyes snapped open at the correction, surprise evident in her expression. "When did you learn that?" she asked, her curiosity piqued.
I shrugged, the memories of our shared past flooding back to me. "I was with her for like 20 years of our lives. I learned most Russian. Also Natasha, she..." My voice trailed off as Wanda's expression shifted, a wave of sadness washing over her.
"Oh my god, I forgot about Natasha. Is... is she alive here?" she asked, tears welling up in her eyes.
I nodded solemnly, feeling a pang of empathy for the pain she must be feeling. Crawling into her lap, I wrapped my arms around her, offering what comfort I could. "You really lost a lot there, dorogoya," I whispered, my voice soft with compassion. "But don't worry, everyone here is safe. We've apparently had it relatively easy here, it seems."
I pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead, my heart overflowing with love and gratitude for this woman who had endured so much. "Now you have your loved ones back. You aren't alone anymore, and you won't ever be again. I promise."
==============
As the weekend unfolded, Wanda and I remained entwined in each other's arms, our connection deepening with each passing moment. When the boys returned home with their uncle Pietro, the atmosphere was filled with warmth and affection, a tangible sense of family that enveloped us all.
Pietro's hug was tight, filled with an unspoken understanding that transcended words. In his whispered question, "Did you guys finally connect?" I detected a mixture of curiosity and genuine concern.
With a small nod and a soft "Mmhmm," I confirmed what he already knew. This Wanda wasn't his real sister, just as she wasn't the Wanda I had known and loved for decades. But she was here, she was special, and in her embrace, I found a sense of solace and belonging that I had thought lost forever.
==============
As the following Friday arrived, Wanda and I made the decision to gather our friends and family together to share the details of our new lives. It was a momentous occasion, filled with a mix of anticipation and apprehension as we prepared to unveil the truth about our extraordinary circumstances.
Gathering our loved ones in a familiar setting, we began to recount the events that had led us to this moment, explaining the complexities of our intertwined destinies and the newfound connections we had forged. With each word, we sought to convey the depth of our emotions, the challenges we had overcome, and the hope that now burned bright within our hearts.
As our gathering unfolded, the emotions in the room were palpable, each hug and embrace a testament to the depth of our shared experiences and the bonds that bound us together.
Wanda's first instinct was to embrace Natasha tightly, their bodies trembling with sobs as they clung to each other. For both of them, it was a moment of overwhelming relief and joy, the realization that they had been given a second chance to be reunited with someone they had feared lost forever.
Next was Clint, the stalwart friend and ally who had saved Wanda countless times in her timeline, offering comfort and support when she needed it most. As they embraced, the weight of their shared history hung heavy in the air, a reminder of the trials they had faced and the strength they had found in each other's presence.
In that moment, surrounded by friends and family who had become like kin, Wanda and I felt a profound sense of gratitude for the bonds that had been forged through adversity. And as we shared stories and memories, laughter mingling with tears, we knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, we would face them together, drawing strength from the love and support that surrounded us.
As our friends and family listened intently, their expressions shifting from surprise to understanding, we felt a sense of relief wash over us. To have our loved ones by our side, supporting us through this journey, was a gift beyond measure.
And as we concluded our explanation, surrounded by the warmth and love of those closest to us, we knew that no matter what the future held, we would face it together, united in our shared bond and unwavering commitment to one another.
As the night wore on and the festivities continued, Stephen pulled me aside, his expression grave with concern. "You know what she's done in her universe, right?" he asked, his voice tinged with urgency.
I bristled at his question, feeling a surge of defensiveness rise within me. "Do not start this, Strange," I warned, jabbing a finger in his direction. "If I had gone through what she had, this universe wouldn't even exist. What she did, in my eyes, is child's play compared to the horrors she endured."
My words carried a weight of conviction, a steadfast belief in Wanda's resilience and the sacrifices she had made to protect those she loved. And as I met Stephen's gaze, I saw a flicker of understanding in his eyes, a silent acknowledgment of the depth of Wanda's strength and the magnitude of her courage.
"She threw a tantrum essentially. Took over a town for a bit and then went on a killing spree to get here. I saw it through her eyes. I know if it had been me, you'd be lucky if America had still been standing," I asserted, a hint of steel in my voice as I tapped the power stone embedded in my chest.
The reminder of the immense power at my disposal served as both a warning and a declaration. Wanda's actions in her universe were a testament to the depths of her grief and the consequences of unchecked power. In contrast, I recognized the responsibility that came with wielding such force, a responsibility I vowed to use wisely to protect those I loved.
As the weight of our conversation lingered, Stephen nodded in acknowledgment, a silent understanding passing between us. The night continued, but the specter of the past and the potential for the future hung in the air, a reminder that even in moments of celebration, the shadows of our pasts were never truly far behind.
"I don't think you understand, my strength isn't superhuman, it's otherworldly. The precision it requires to ensure I don't break everything around me at any given moment is a delicate balance. With one punch, I wouldn't just put a crater in the earth, I'd break it in half," I emphasized, underscoring the magnitude of the power I possessed.
The distinction between superhuman strength and the cosmic force I wielded was crucial to grasp. While others might possess extraordinary abilities, mine was on a different scale altogether, capable of reshaping the very fabric of reality itself. It was a responsibility that weighed heavily on me, requiring a level of control and restraint beyond what most could comprehend.
As I spoke, I could sense the gravity of my words sinking in, the realization dawning on Stephen of the immense power at my command. It was a sobering reminder of the delicate balance between strength and responsibility, a balance that I vowed to uphold no matter the cost.
"I'm sorry, Y/N, I just wanted to remind you-" Stephen began, but I swiftly cut him off, my tone firm yet understanding. "Don't, Stephen. I know you're just trying to help. I don't need the reminder though," I assured him, acknowledging his concern while asserting my own understanding of the situation.
With a nod of acceptance, Stephen backed off, respecting my boundaries and allowing me to return to the comforting embrace of Wanda, who had been engaged in conversation with Natasha and Clint. As I settled back into her arms, the warmth of her presence enveloped me, a reassuring reminder of the love and support that surrounded me.
In that moment, surrounded by friends and family, I felt a sense of peace wash over me, a quiet reassurance that no matter the challenges we faced, we would face them together, united in our shared bonds and unwavering commitment to one another.
As Wanda continued her conversation with Natasha and Clint, her fingers traced delicate patterns on my hip, their touch a gentle caress that spoke volumes of the journey she had undertaken. Once stained with blood, those same hands now exuded a tenderness and compassion that belied the darkness of the past.
Feeling the soothing rhythm of her touch, I couldn't help but marvel at the transformation Wanda had undergone, the evolution from a place of pain and turmoil to one of healing and redemption. It was a testament to her resilience and strength, a reminder that even in the face of adversity, it was possible to find light amidst the shadows.
In that moment, as her touch danced across my skin, I felt a profound sense of gratitude for the woman before me, for the love and forgiveness she had extended, and for the hope that now blossomed within our hearts. And as our conversation continued, I knew that no matter what trials lay ahead, we would face them together, bound by the unbreakable bond of love and understanding that had brought us to this moment.
As the room suddenly filled with the energetic presence of our children, along with Clint's youngest and Kate close behind, my boys bounded into mine and Wanda's arms with cries for help. "Moms! Save us from the monster!" they pleaded, their laughter filling the air.
I chuckled as I gathered them close, feeling their warmth and energy envelop me in a comforting embrace. Glancing over, I caught sight of Kate playfully tickling Nathaniel, the mischievous grin on her face confirming my suspicions.
With a smile, I joined Wanda in rescuing our boys from the clutches of the imaginary monster, enveloping them in hugs and laughter as we reveled in the joy of family and friendship. In that moment, surrounded by the ones we loved most, I couldn't help but feel an overwhelming sense of gratitude for the blessings that filled our lives, each smile and laugh a reminder of the happiness that awaited us in the days to come.
As the boys began to drift off to sleep in my arms, I couldn't help but smile at the sight. "I think it's time to go, my love," I murmured to Wanda, gesturing towards our sleeping sons. Despite their ten years, I scooped them up effortlessly, their weight feeling light in my arms.
A momentary look of surprise flickered across Wanda's face, her gaze lingering on me as she seemed to momentarily forget about my strength. At just 4'11, I was indeed petite for someone with such power, a fact that often caught others off guard.
With a soft chuckle, I gently adjusted the boys in my arms, their peaceful expressions a testament to the love and security they felt in our embrace. As we prepared to leave, I felt a surge of gratitude for the family we had become, bound together by love and the unbreakable bond of kinship. With Wanda by my side, I knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, we would face them together, united in our shared love and determination to protect those we held dear.
As I glanced over at Wanda, watching the tender expression on her face as she looked upon our sleeping sons, my heart swelled with love and gratitude. The depth of emotion reflected in her eyes filled me with a sense of warmth and contentment, knowing that our family was complete and our bond unbreakable.
In that moment, as we stood together, surrounded by the quiet stillness of the night, I felt a profound sense of peace wash over me. The love that radiated between us and enveloped our children was a testament to the strength of our connection, a bond forged in the fires of adversity and tempered by the trials we had faced together.
As we prepared to depart, I reached out to take Wanda's hand, intertwining our fingers in a silent gesture of unity and love. With a shared smile, we turned and made our way home, our hearts full and our spirits lifted by the knowledge that no matter what challenges lay ahead, we would face them together, as a family.
===========
Wanda and I are on the couch when she asks, "Do you have photo albums of the boys?" I look at her, peeling my eyes from the TV as I pause it.
"Of course." I get up grabbing several albums of almost everything of their lives. "After we left the Avengers I took solace in capturing moments so we have a lot." I tell her as she starts through her pregnancy photos one of every month. Then the hospital photos of her giving birth. The look of pure happiness and bliss on both our faces as we held the boys. Both of us having skin to skin contact with them. As Wanda goes through the albums she starts crying.
"I missed out on so much because of my magic..." she whispered solemnly. "They went from babies, to 5, to 10 all because of words I said...Y/N...I missed everything." Knowing that Wanda had used her magic to create our boys in her universe and not anything like how we had here made her incredibly sad. I hate seeing her like this.
"How about I show you. Their first words, their first steps, everything." With a gentle touch, I leaned in closer to her, resting my forehead against hers as I offered her a silent gesture of comfort and solidarity. Feeling her fingers against my temples, I closed my eyes and allowed the memories to flow, every precious moment from the joyous announcement of her pregnancy to the bittersweet final days we shared together playing out before her.
As the memories unfolded like a vivid tapestry, I watched as Wanda's tears began to subside, replaced by a sense of wonder and awe. Through the magic of our shared recollections, she was able to witness the milestones she had missed, the laughter and love that had filled our home in her absence.
In that moment, as we shared in the memories of our past, I felt a renewed sense of hope blossom within me. Though Wanda may have missed out on so much, I was determined to make every moment from this point forward count, to cherish the time we had together and to create new memories that would fill the void left by the past.
With a gentle smile, I wrapped my arms around her, holding her close as we basked in the warmth of our shared love. And as the echoes of our memories faded into the night, I knew that no matter what trials lay ahead, we would face them together, united in our unwavering commitment to one another and to our family.
As I looked into Wanda's eyes, feeling the weight of her sadness and longing, I knew that I had to do everything in my power to ease her pain and make up for the lost time. With a gentle touch, I cupped her cheek in my hand, my thumb brushing away the tears that lingered there.
"Everything with them feels too quick and also a lifetime," I whispered softly, my heart swelling with love and determination. "But now that you're here with us, you'll get to experience it all with me. Together."
In that moment, as we shared in our shared resolve to embrace the present and forge ahead as a family, I felt a sense of peace wash over me. No matter what challenges lay ahead, we would face them together, united in our love and commitment to one another.
With a tender smile, I leaned in to press a gentle kiss against Wanda's forehead, silently promising to cherish every moment we shared and to make up for the lost time in any way I could. Together, we would build a future filled with love, laughter, and endless memories, united in our bond as a family.
Once we put the albums away, shut the TV off for the night we headed upstairs. Stopping to look in at the boys sleeping peacefully before heading to our own room, getting ourselves ready for bed. As I climb in, stretching out, Wanda climbs on top of me. I bite my bottom lip, looking up at her. I can see the look she has. I wrap my arms around her neck, gently trying to pull her down. She doesn't budge.
"Did you want something, shchenok?" Between the look in her eyes, the sound of her voice, and her in just a tank top of sleep shorts I'm weak to her completely under her not just physically.
"Want you. Need you." I tell her trying again to pull and when she still doesn't budge. I pout and whine. "Wands...please.."
As Wanda's hands worked their magic, binding mine above my head with a delicate yet firm touch, I felt a rush of excitement and anticipation coursing through me. With each tug of her magic, I was rendered powerless, completely at her mercy as she explored my body with a hunger that ignited a fire within me.
"Behave and we'll see where it goes," she husked, her words sending shivers down my spine as she pushed up my shirt, her lips finding purchase on my chest with an intensity that left me breathless. The sensation of her teeth grazing my skin, her tongue tracing patterns across my flesh, sent waves of pleasure radiating through me, making me squirm and writhe beneath her touch.
As I felt myself slipping deeper into subspace, surrendering to the heady mix of pleasure and vulnerability, I couldn't help but lose myself in the moment, giving in completely to the sensations that engulfed me. With each kiss, each caress, I felt myself unraveling, consumed by the overwhelming desire that burned between us.
In that moment, as I surrendered myself to Wanda's tender ministrations, I felt a profound sense of connection and intimacy that transcended the physical realm. With her by my side, I knew that I was safe, cherished, and loved beyond measure, and as I surrendered to the ecstasy of the moment, I knew that our bond would only grow stronger with each passing day.
Wanda plays with me and teases me for hours and I can't even remember how many times she's pushed me over the edge of ecstasy. As she brought me to another one as she slammed into me with a magic strap-on she'd conjured up, my mind already drowning in subspace, barely able to form words, but one slips out and then a few more,
"Mommy...gonna...ah-ha...ah..." After my words she sped up leaning down to whisper in my ear,
"That's right cum for Mommy like a good girl. Mommy's gonna cum with you. Gonna fill you up and breed you baby girl." As she whispered those final words in my ear, her voice a husky growl of lust and desire, I felt myself shattering into a million pieces, my entire being consumed by the ecstasy of release. With a cry of pure ecstasy, I let myself fall over the edge, my body trembling with the force of my climax as I surrendered myself entirely to the pleasure that engulfed me. Feeling her fill me up completely made my eyes roll back and the only word I could comprehend was, “Mommy.”
In that moment, as I basked in the afterglow of our shared ecstasy, I knew that I was exactly where I belonged, wrapped in the arms of the woman I loved more than anything in the world.
Taglist: @dorabledewdroop
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thef1diary · 3 days
Text
Little Big Blurb
— Braid Bonding
Max wants to learn how to braid his Bella’s hair
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wc: 1.5k
Based on this request
By now, you and Isabella had established an organized morning routine that helped avoid any problems before you dropped her off at school. You would style Isabella's hair every morning while she was eating breakfast.
There were a few days where she wanted a fancier hairstyle, but most of the time she preferred two braids. The amount of times you've braided her hair, you were certain that you could do it with your eyes closed.
However, you didn't realize that while you knew how to complete the task perfectly, Max did not.
You're standing behind her, gently brushing her long dark strands. "That tickles, mama," she giggles, tilting her head forward to escape the tickles from the bristles of the hairbrush.
You chuckled at her antics and replaced the brush with your fingers for a moment, grazing against the back of her neck to purposely tickle her.
"Maxy! save me," Isabella called out, making grabby hands at him while attempting to dodge your fingers that slid down her sides, tickling her brutally. Her laughter filled the room like a melody, brightening your smile.
Max chuckled at the playful scene unfolding before him. He watched with amusement as Isabella tried to escape your tickles, her laughter echoing through the room.
"Alright, alright, I'm coming to the rescue!" Max declared with a grin, stepping closer to join in the fun. He gently grabbed your hands, trying to stop your relentless tickling.
Isabella squirmed between the two of you, still giggling uncontrollably. "Maxy, help me! Mama's being a tickle monster!" she exclaimed, her eyes sparkling with joy.
You and Max shared a knowing look before relenting, releasing Isabella from the tickle attack. She took a deep breath, trying to calm her laughter, before flashing you both a bright smile.
"Okay, time to finish up your hair, angel," you said, picking up the hairbrush again and gently untangling her locks. Max watched with interest as you deftly divided her hair into sections and began braiding it into two neat plaits.
As you finished braiding Isabella's hair, Max leaned in closer to observe your technique.
"Thanks, mama!" She wiggled off the chair to look at herself in the mirror. One thing about your daughter was that she needed her hair to look as close to perfect as possible. Perhaps that habit was from you as well.
"You’re welcome, Bella, now c'mon you don't want to be late," you urged her to finish her breakfast.
"Mama, I can never be late," she chuckled but you raised your eyebrow, "and why's that?"
"Because of Maxy!" She cheered before cutting another bite sized piece of the pancake she was eating.
Your gaze shifted to your boyfriend, eyeing him with judgement. "You don't speed, do you?"
He was quick to shake his head, "not at all." You turned to look at your daughter when you heard her giggle and cover her mouth to muffle it.
"Just be careful, please," you told Max, and his smile widened, walking closer towards you and wrapping his arms around your waist.
"Always. I got precious cargo in the backseat," he muttered before pressing a kiss to your cheek. "Hey!" Isabella ran towards both of you, hugging your legs with a giggle leaving her lips.
You bent over and picked her up, letting her join in on the hug. "Don't forget me, Maxy," she added. Max cradled her chin and pressed a kiss to her cheek as well.
Soon enough, Max and Isabella were out of the door, with her lunch packed, giving you some time to yourself. Filling up a mug of coffee, you chose a book for the day and cozied up on the couch.
Immersing yourself into the book, you hadn't realized when Max returned until he spoke, "what are you reading?"
Startled, you looked at him leaning over you from behind the couch, "shit, you scared me." You showed him the cover of the book, which was undoubtedly another romance novel you picked up.
"We've got to do something about your lack of awareness of your surroundings," Max commented, sitting next to you. "Shut up," you rolled your eyes playfully while smacking the novel against his arm.
You snuggled up next to him and continued to read your book. That is, until Max pulled out your hair tie and brushed his fingers through your hair. "Can you teach me?" He muttered.
"Teach you what?" You placed a bookmark on the page before placing the novel down on the table in front of you and looked at him.
"Teach me how to make braids, I want to learn for Bella." Your gaze didn't waver away from him, stunned at his thoughtful words. He squirmed in his spot, wondering if he said the wrong thing which is why he shrugged his shoulders, "if I can," he added quietly.
"Of course you can." You pressed a kiss to his cheek before standing up and getting a hairbrush and a comb.
You sat comfortably in front of him, feeling a mix of anticipation and affection. Max took a deep breath, his fingers hovering uncertainly over your hair.
"Okay, so, uh, how do we start?" Max asked, his voice tinged with nervousness.
You smiled reassuringly, reaching back to guide his hands into your hair. "Don't worry, baby, you'll do great. Let's start with one braid so divide my hair into three equal sections," you instructed, gently demonstrating the process as you spoke.
As Max followed your lead, you could feel the warmth of his hands against your scalp, his touch tentative yet determined. He carefully divided your hair into sections, his fingers fumbling slightly but gradually gaining confidence with each movement.
"Like this?" Max asked, looking to you for approval.
"Perfect," you replied with a smile and even though he couldn't see your face, you knew he could hear it in your tone. "Now, all you have to do is cross the sections over each other, alternating between left and right."
With your guidance, Max began braiding your hair, his movements slow and deliberate as he focused intently on each step. You could feel the gentle tug of his fingers as he weaved the strands together, his concentration palpable in the quiet of the room.
As he reached the end of the braid, Max let out a triumphant sigh, a proud smile spreading across his face. "I did it!" he exclaimed, his eyes shining with accomplishment.
Once he placed a hair tie at the end, you turned to face him, your heart swelling with pride. "You did amazing, love. I'm so proud of you," you said, pecking his lips briefly.
He had a sheepish smile on his face, "can I try again?"
You chuckled, "of course, let's try two this time?" He quickly nodded, turning you around before undoing his first masterpiece.
The time flew by as Max braided your hair over and over again. You picked up your book again because he didn't need any help after the first couple of tries.
Once he practiced enough times with your hair, he believed that he was prepared to try the techniques on Isabella's hair.
The next morning, as Isabella sat at the kitchen table enjoying her breakfast, Max approached with a determined look on his face. Armed with newfound confidence from the previous day's lesson, he was ready to take on the challenge of braiding Isabella's hair himself.
"Hey there, princess, how about I do your hair today?" Max suggested, a hint of excitement in his voice.
Isabella looked up from her cereal, her eyes widening in surprise. "Really, Maxy? You're going to braid my hair?" she asked, a mixture of skepticism and anticipation in her tone.
Max glanced at you and once he received an encouraging nod, he too nodded enthusiastically, a grin spreading across his face. "Absolutely! I learned from the best, so I think I can handle it," he replied, trying to mask his nerves with bravado.
Isabella giggled, delighted by his eagerness. "Okay, Maxy. Let's see what you've got," she said, leaning back in her chair and offering him a playful grin.
Taking a deep breath to steady his nerves, Max picked up the hairbrush and began to carefully brush Isabella's long dark strands, just as he had seen you do countless times before. He divided her hair into two sections before dividing those into three equal sections, his hands steady as he focused intently on the task.
With each twist and turn of the braid, Max's confidence grew, his movements becoming more fluid and assured. As he reached the end of one braid, he tied it off with a small hair tie before working on the next one.
When Isabella ran towards the mirror to check her hair, Max held in his breath and only let it out in relief when she returned with a giddy smile on her face, holding two thumbs up.
"You did it! It looks so good!" She exclaimed, running back to him and knocking his breath out with a hug.
His heart beamed with pride and he smiled widely, "thank you princess."
As Isabella continued talking, now speaking of all the different hairstyles Max can learn, he looked at you, nodding his head in appreciation for teaching him a skill that brought him even closer to your daughter.
Taglist: @keerysfreckles @d3kstar @xjval @hc-dutch @the-untamed-soul @multi-fandom-fan221b @lilymurphy03 @shreks-best-tits @nessacarty1 @ldynblack @lighttsoutlewis @ur-fave-ave @namjoonswaifu @llando4norris @dark-night-sky-99 @majx00 @xoscar03 @wonnou @samantha-chicago @mlioravanfleet
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finelinefae · 3 days
Text
match one [tennisplayer!harry x tennisplayer!y/n]
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synopsis: y/n's struggling with harry's coaching before the first tournament and harry's feelings control him more than he controls them
word count: 10.2k
contains: enemies to lovers, set at a boarding school, slow burn, angst, tennis rivals, strict parents, fluff, harry being a boy and not being able control himself around y/n
this is part 2 of the game, read part 1 here
. . .
“Again,” 
Y/N gritted her teeth and bounced the tennis ball on the ground before throwing it into the air with a straight arm and hitting it with the racket, watching as it pierced through the air to the opposite end of the court. 
She heard a sigh come from the bench on the side of the court, “Again,” 
She inhaled sharply through her nose to try and contain her temper as she repeated the same serve. 
“Again,”
Y/N spun around on the heel of her New Balance trainers, her pleated, white skort twirling as she did. She crossed her arms and glared at the boy lying on his back in his school uniform which was now crinkled and unkempt after the school day. “You’re not even watching,” She replied for the first time after having done the same serve more than ten times already. 
“I don’t need to, I know you’re not doing it correctly,” He replied, monotonously. 
She clenched her jaw, “Well as my coach, aren’t you supposed to show me how I’m meant to do it correctly?”
“I can show you but it won’t change anything,” He said. 
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
He sighs and sits up, “You already know how to do a flat serve, I’ve seen you do it. You’re just not hitting it hard enough. I can hear it in the way the ball lands on the other end of the court.” 
“You could have just told me to hit it harder,” She retorts. 
“Am I meant to play the game for you as well?” He quips which makes her blood boil. 
This was their third training session, and Y/N had reached her limit. With her first proper tournament just three weeks away, she had hoped that seeking help from the best tennis player at Crestwood would elevate her gameplay. 
However, Y/N was getting frustrated with each session being a monotonous repetition of drills she had already learnt herself. It grated on her nerves and she felt as though she was back to square one. 
She was beginning to regret having enlisted Harry for his mentoring in the first place. Whenever they’d try to talk mutually to each other, it would just end up in an argument of some kind where they’d end up needing ten minutes to cool off.
Y/N had already qualified for the Academy Slam before she even asked Harry to coach her. There had originally been sixteen academies from the surrounding counties competing in the games and now there were only half and Y/N was one of them. She’d passed the qualifiers all by herself and maybe she could pass the games that way too.
“Again,” He said that one word Y/N was beginning to hate. 
Who knew what she was capable of if she had to hear that word one more time. 
Feeling a surge of anger, Y/N tossed the ball into the air and hit it with all the strength she could possibly summon. She watched as the ball made a fast and straight trajectory towards her target area which just so happened to be right beside Harry’s place on the bench. 
He jumped up, a look of surprise on his face. "What the fuck?" he exclaimed, eyes following the ball as it hit the fence.
Y/N's smirk wavered as he approached her, her surprise matching his when he spoke again. "Let's move on, shall we?"
By the end of the session, every inch of Y/N's body throbbed with exhaustion. She drained an entire water bottle in one go, her fitted polo shirt clinging to her damp skin. She had thought she'd engaged every muscle in her body, but the way her calves screamed at her with every step told a different story.
“Same time tomorrow?” Harry asked, standing above her and blocking the sunlight. 
“I want to start training properly,” Y/N stated.
“We are training properly,” He argued. 
“You realize you haven’t shown me a single tactic since you started coaching me right?”
“And?” 
“How am I meant to win the first tournament if all I know how to do is basic drills?” 
“Do you know how many times my coach made me practice flat serves before we could move on?” He asks but she doesn’t answer, “A month. I went home with blisters on my hands because I was doing them non-stop six hours a day.”
Y/N’s eyebrows raise, “You think tennis is just about being tactical then you’re not playing it properly. The only way you’ll ever be a good tennis player is if you master the techniques.” He explains, “I’ve seen you play Y/N. For someone who has never had professional coaching, you are one of the best players I’ve seen but you lack confidence in your technique. That flat serve you just aimed at me? One of the best flat serves I’ve seen in a while. If you can do that in every game, you’ll have no problem winning but if you want tactics? I can draw you a diagram and it’ll save two hours of my day no problem.” 
Y/N tries not to show her surprise at his words. Instead, she takes them all in, “Shouldn’t we at least be analysing my opponent?”
She was playing against Vanya Maddison in her next game. She was tall which was a major advantage in the game but her spatial awareness wasn’t exactly on par. 
“Do you know what your biggest strength is in this game?” Harry asked.
“My speed?” Y/N frowned. 
“Your anger,” He replies, “Off the court, it’s a little annoying but on the court, it’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. Use it.” 
Y/N had no idea whether to take it as a compliment or not. She’d never heard Harry say anything good about her so was taken off guard by his words. “So are we still on for tomorrow because I have to meet Mitch in thirty minutes and if the answer is no at least I can actually plan on getting wasted tonight.” 
Y/N took a moment to think. She had never expected him to say something positive about her, especially about her anger. It was a side of herself she often struggled to control, but hearing Harry acknowledge it as a strength left her feeling conflicted.
As much as she considered training on her own which would give her some peace and quiet, she wanted to see where her training with Harry would go. If he was right, maybe she’d actually have more of a chance of winning than she did on her own. 
She stood up and put her gym bag over her shoulder, “See you tomorrow,” She walked past him, wanting to avoid the satisfied grin on his face. 
“Y/N!” Harry called, she could hear him jogging towards her before she stepped out of the courts, “I wanted to give this to you.”
He placed in her hands a cassette tape with white masking tape on it with the words ‘Y/N’s theme songs’ scribbled onto it in black ink. “What is this?” She asked, looking up at him.
“When I was in Australia, I used music to help me get in the zone before a match. My coach told me to use a cassette tape because phones were too distracting,” He explained. 
“You made this for me?” She frowned.
“What? You’ve never been given a gift before?” He chuckles. 
Y/N looks down at the plastic in her hands. It’s not that she’d never been given a gift by anyone before- she and Sarah always exchanged gifts over Christmas and for each other’s birthdays- but it was rare for her to ever receive anything from anyone else. Her parents would often give her practical things at Christmas or transfer money into her bank account on birthdays. 
Harry’s eyebrows furrowed at her lack of reply but she cleared her throat, “I don’t have a cassette player,” She said but Harry quickly removed his backpack and pulled out a walkman. 
“You can borrow mine,” He handed it over to her, “I won’t be needing it anytime soon since I’m not playing,” She noticed the downcast look in his eyes as he mentioned the fact he wasn’t currently able to play with his injury. 
“Um, t-thanks?” She said, unsure of how to respond to his sudden kindness. It felt unusual. 
“I picked a few songs that reminded me of you,” He smirks, “Don’t worry, they’re not all about a girl with an attitude problem.” With that he turned back around and walked towards the other exit to head to the car park. 
She felt ease on her chest as the usual teasing remarks returned, “Asshole,” She called out to him to which he just put his middle finger up in reply. 
. . . 
After taking a long shower in the girl’s shower rooms in her dorm block, Y/N headed back to her dorm after changing into a white shirt and sweatpants. She could feel the strain in her arms and legs as she flopped down onto her bed. 
Luckily Sarah wasn’t back from spending time with Mitch, so she took in the peace and quiet which came rare to her these days as all her mind had been on recently was the Academy Slam. 
Her mind wandered off to Harry and his words from earlier. Y/N knew she was a good tennis player but it was the first time she had heard someone else tell her that. She wasn’t expecting it, especially not from her tennis rival of the past ten years. 
Her eyes glanced at the cassette tape and the walkman she had placed on her desk before she headed off to the shower. Sitting up, she grabbed it and stared down at it for a moment before putting the cassette into the player and putting the headphones on. 
She laid back on her bed and looked up at the ceiling of her room. Her fingers hit the play button and the first song began to flood her ears. The first few beats of Nelly Furtado’s ‘Maneater’ began to play and she immediately rolled her eyes. Then afterwards, ‘Fergalicious’ by Fergie. 
She wondered how many songs Harry had managed to put on the cassette and how many were female anthems of empowerment. 
The next song seemed to catch her attention even further when Gorillaz ‘She’s my collar’ began to play. The beat now permanently injected into her bloodstream along with the rest of the album from the number of times she had listened to it. 
She wondered if Harry had known he had included a song by one of her favourite bands and whether he knew the meaning behind the song too. Maybe it had been a coincidence which was a thought Y/N had decided to settle on as she listened to the rest of the song. 
‘Nothing to be justified yet
She the first I'm running with
She the one that get my collar
She the one I'm running with (she's my collar)’
. . . 
The next day at school, Y/N sat in the library during her study period to study for her biology exam at the end of the week. Even though she was set on the scholarship, she still needed something to fall back on if she lost out in the next few games so she made sure she was still getting the best grades she could. It had also been ingrained in her to be the best in every class and she didn’t think that trait of hers would ever leave her. 
“Y/N!” Sarah called, her voice echoing within the silence of the library.
Ignoring the irritated glances she received, she paced towards Y/N and sat in the empty seat beside her. Y/N smiled at her friend’s excitement. They were foils to each other and that’s what made them get on so well. Whilst Y/N had a black cat personality, Sarah was sunshine in a person which was probably why she was so perfect for Mitch who was equally as bright. “What’s up?”
“I need to ask you something and you’re probably going to hate me but Harry’s already said yes and-”
“Sarah,” Y/N placed her hands on her shoulders, “Breathe.”
Sarah did exactly that before continuing, “Would you do a feature with Harry for the school newspaper?” 
Y/N frowned, “What?”
“The school newspaper? You know the club I’ve been part of for the past two years? They want to do a feature on your training for the sports section and I told them I would ask you.” Sarah explained. 
“Oh I don’t know about that-”
“Pleeeassseee,” Sarah gripped her arm that was resting on the desk and batted her eyelashes.
“You know I’d do anything for you Sarah but I don’t know if I have the time and my focus is on my next game,” Y/N replied. 
“Harry’s already said yes to it,” Sarah interjected.
“You asked him before me?” 
“Well actually,” Sarah hesitated, “Luke, the boy who’s writing the article, asked him this morning,”
“Why didn’t he ask me?” 
Sarah gave her a pointed look, “You’re not exactly the most approachable,” Y/N’s frown deepened at her words, “So will you do it?” 
Y/N sighed, considering it before giving Sarah an answer. The last thing she wanted was for someone to be asking unnecessary questions in time that could be used to train for the first round of the competition but Sarah was her best friend and she knew how much the school newspaper meant to her and her university applications too. 
“Alright,” She relented, “I’ll do it.”
Sarah squealed, receiving another round of vicious glares from other students in the library. Her arms wrapped around her in a tight hug, “Thank you,” She pulled away, “They’ll come by tomorrow afternoon during practice, is that okay?” Y/N nodded a response.
. . . 
It was raining outside. 
Y/N’s eyes stared out the window as she bounced a tennis ball on the hard floor of the gymnasium and wondered if the weather foreshadowed the next hour. 
“Will you sit down?” Harry muttered, “You’re giving me a headache,” 
“He’s late,” Y/N says, “We could have been practising,”
“Do you ever just do anything else?” Y/N shot him a glare at his sarcasm, “I get this is important to you but don’t you just want to, I don’t know, have fun?”
Y/N walked over to her seat right next to his and straightened herself for the interview the school newspaper had organised for them. Sarah had told both her and Harry to dress smartly for the occasion which, according to Harry meant a designer sweatshirt and trousers whilst Y/N had gone for a dress and pumps. It wasn’t overly smart for either of them but enough to make it seem like they had made an effort. 
“The fact that you’re even suggesting that tells me you have no idea how important this is to me,” Y/N responds, monotonously. 
She hears a scoff from beside her, “What?” 
He turns to face her, his face rather too close, she notices three moles on his right cheek that she hadn’t ever seen before, “I think I know better than anyone how important this is to you but I also know from experience how important being in high school is with people your own age.” She forgets sometimes that even though he was whisked away to fulfil his place in the Australian Open, that his time of being a kid was cut short, “I don’t go out of my way to coach just anybody,”
“What do you mean?” She frowns but before Harry could reply, the doors to the gym open and in scrambles a sixth year with a messenger bag and a tripod with a camera dangling from his neck. 
“It means,” he leans forward, murmuring, “if you had half the belief in yourself as I have in you then you wouldn’t need me at all.” 
“Sorry I’m late,” Luke’s voice echoes as he steps towards them and places all three legs of the tripod on the ground and scrambles to screw his camera to it. 
“What’s with the camera?” Y/N asked. 
“O-oh, we’re recording the interview so I can write everything up later and we’re going to need your pictures together afterwards,” Luke explained. 
“You want us to take a photo together?” Y/N frowned.
“Did Sarah not tell you?” Luke replied. 
“Calm down, love. It’s just a photo,” Harry murmured and she tried not to react to the nickname he had used for her. 
Once everything was set up, Luke sat across from them with his laptop on his thighs, questions already typed out, “So, you two have known each other for a while now?” Luke asked as he sat across from them. 
As Y/N was about to tell him how they didn’t exactly know each other on a personal level but knew each other through tennis, Harry spoke up, “Since we were both in third year. I was eight and Y/N was seven but we’ve been in the same class since we were infants.” 
Luke nodded, “That must help a lot in your partnership,” 
Harry chuckled lowly, “Something like that,”
Luke types a few things down in his computer before turning his attention to Y/N, “Um, Y/N what made you turn to Harry for his coaching other than the fact he won the Australian Open?”
Y/N frowned, what more reason did she need to give? “Well, the fact he won is a big reason as to why I approached him,”
“But isn’t he injured?” Harry stiffened beside her. The way he asked made it sound like he was defective, unusable.
Y/N furrowed her eyebrows, “Yes but I’ve seen Harry play games with a dislocated shoulder. He’d just pop it right back in and start playing again. His current injury doesn’t take away from the fact that he’s one of the best tennis players I’ve seen at Crestwood.” Y/N ignored the looks from the two boys. She knew she’d have to compliment Harry at some point during this interview, especially if they needed to show a united front for the games.
“And do think the same about Y/N?” Luke asked Harry who now seemed irritated by him.
“I think,” Y/N was prepared for a backhanded compliment but what she got was something entirely different, “Y/N has all the potential in the world to go for what she dreams of and I hope to watch her do it all even if that means I’m watching from the sidelines.” This time it was Y/N’s turn to glance at Harry, taken aback by his words. 
Luke spoke again, “You know some people are calling you the underdog in this tournament?” Y/N froze, it was the first time she had heard of it, “all the other women competing have had professional coaching and the school invests heavily in their tennis players.”
Y/N cleared her throat, “I didn’t know that but I have every intention of proving them wrong,” Harry bumped his knee with hers but she ignored it. 
“And What do your parents think about you doing this before leaving exams?” Luke asked. 
Y/N ignored the sting she felt at the thought of telling her parents what she was doing and the looks of disappointment she envisioned, which had been gnawing at the back of her head since she qualified. She answered confidently, "They're happy for me and excited to see me in the final."
Harry furrowed his eyebrows as Luke leaned in, his expression curious. "You think you'll get to the final?"
Harry scoffed, “Are you insinuating she won’t?” 
Luke backpedalled slightly, sensing he’d struck a nerve. "I didn't mean to suggest that at all. It's just that some people doubt the capabilities of those who haven't had professional coaching."
"Hey Luke, do me a favour and invite those people to the first game in three weeks' time. Let them witness firsthand what it's like watching a player as skilled as Y/N, without any professional coaching," Harry's frustration was palpable, catching Y/N off guard with his assertiveness. Typically, she would be the first to break in such situations but it seemed Harry already had.
Luke’s face warmed as he realised he overstepped, “R-right, let’s move on.” He scanned through his list of questions to find something more light-hearted to break up the mood, whilst Y/N straightened her shoulders, thankful they’d gotten to the final round of questions. “What do you both like to do outside of training?” 
“Together?” Y/N cringed, trying to picture spending time with Harry in a normal setting. 
“Not necessarily,” Luke shrugged. 
“My best friend is dating her best friend so we’ve been spending a lot more time together recently. Normally, I play guitar or recite poetry whenever I’m not coaching Y/N to volley properly,” Y/N rolled her eyes at the lies that left his mouth.  
“I study,” Y/N stated. 
“That’s it?” Luke’s eyebrows creased.
Her cheeks turned slightly pink, “I’m top of the class in all of my classes, that doesn’t just happen without hard work.”
She could feel Harry’s eyes on her and for the first time, she turned her head to catch his eyes. She noticed the frown on his lips and something in his eye that looked a lot more like concern or sympathy than the desire to tease her about her lack of social life. 
“Well, I think that will be enough,” Luke stood up and grabbed his camera, “Do you mind if we take a few photos now?”
Y/N and Harry stood from their seats, side by side and looked into the lens of the camera. Y/N’s cheeks hurt from forcing a smile as Harry did the same, “You’re standing too close to me,” Y/N spoke through her teeth as the camera flashed.
"Look who's talking with their giant foot squashing my shoe," Harry retorts, a playful glint in his eyes. Y/N inhales sharply, her gaze dropping to her foot to see what he's referring to. But before she can react, Harry smoothly slides his arm around her waist, pulling her into his side with practised ease. Their eyes meet, and just as the camera flashes, capturing the moment, Y/N side steps out of his grip with an annoyed huff.
“Okay, that will be all,” Luke smiled. 
As Luke packed his things away, Y/N and Harry stood awkwardly side by side without saying a word. Y/N glanced out the window and saw the sky had cleared up and the sun was setting. She needed to get back to her dorm to study for her French exam tomorrow as well as binge-watch tennis matches on YouTube which she’d been doing a lot recently. 
“Did you really mean that?” Harry asked, catching her attention, “All you do is study outside of school?”
Y/N looked at him, “I hang out with Sarah some days but yeah, I mostly study. I don’t really have a lot of choice and I’m not naturally smart.” Harry’s head tilted to the side like he was secretly questioning her in his head, “What? Aren’t you meant to crack a joke about me being stupid or something?”
Harry's eyes softened, his voice gentle. "I could never think you're stupid, love," he said, the nickname slipping from his lips with a tenderness that caught Y/N off guard. She found herself speechless, unable to figure out what had gotten into him recently. 
He pulled out his car keys from his back pocket and motioned his head towards the gymnasium exit, “C’mon,” He urged, “I wanna try something out and before you ask, it’s nothing to do with tennis or studying.”
Y/N’s feet stayed glued to the ground as he walked away and expected her to follow. She furrowed her brows and crossed her arms, wanting to refuse his invitation so she could get back to her dorm. But curiosity got the better of her and she followed a few paces behind him as he led her to the empty car park. 
Harry pressed the button on the car keys and the lights flashed on a black Audi hiding in the corner, “What are we doing?” She asked. 
“Have you ever driven a car before?” He wondered, looking at her with a hint of mischief. 
“Never,” She replied and was bewildered to see him open the door to the passenger seat instead of the driver’s seat. 
“Looks like it’s your lucky day, love,” He smirked.
Y/N’s eyes widened, “N-no! Harry, I'm not driving your stupidly expensive car.”
“C’mon,” Harry chuckled, “Don’t be chicken.”
She scoffed, “I’m not being chicken, I’m being sensible. If I crash that car, I don’t even think my parents will have enough money to fix it.”
“My parent’s will,” He grinned, cockily, “Get in,” 
“No, I’m not driving that car.” She insisted. 
Five minutes later, Y/N sat in the driver’s seat of Harry’s Audi with her fingers over her eyes as he instructed her on how to start. “Are you crazy?” She whimpers as he switches the engine on. 
“Stop worrying, I’ve got my hand on the break.” She looks down to see his hand already wrapped around the hand break, “Just stay calm and do what I told you to do. Clutch down, first gear and then ease your foot gently off the clutch.”
“You’re supposed to be teaching me tennis, not driving laps around the school parking lot,” Y/N argued.
“Think of this as a team bonding exercise,” He shrugged, “Okay now foot down on the clutch,”
“This is the worst idea you’ve ever had,” She strangled out, placing her shaky hands on the wheel.
“Relax,” Harry chuckled, “You’re being dramatic.”
“It won’t be so dramatic when we end up in a tree,” Y/N retorted as she carefully felt the pedals and pressed down slowly on the clutch. Feeling the car rise, Y/N gasped and removed her foot. 
“Calm down, it’s just because you put your foot on the clutch,” Harry was trying his best not to laugh at her, “Okay, now do it again.”
Y/N squeezed her hands on the wheel and repeated her actions, moving the gear stick “Okay, now carefully raise the clutch,” Harry instructed and as she did, he lowered the handbrake and the car slowly began to move forward. 
“Holy shit,” Y/N wailed, “We’re moving,”
This time, Harry did laugh unable to stop himself after seeing her reaction, “Make sure you turn the wheel or we really will end up in a tree,” 
Y/N did as she was told and turned the wheel slowly, “Okay, I’ll move into second,”
“Harry no!” She gasped but put the clutch down so he could move gears. 
“Atta girl,” He beamed.
Y/N’s worried expression soon turned into shock and then excitement as she moved slowly around the car park, “I’m driving Harry!” Y/N grinned and Harry swore it was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. 
“You are,” He praised, “There’s nothing you can’t do.”
After switching between first and second gear and Y/N complaining that her feet were aching from how tense she was using the pedals, Harry offered to swap places and show her what it was really like to go out on an evening drive. 
“Harry!” Y/N choked on a laugh as he went all the way up to sixth gear down the empty streets in the middle of nowhere, “Slow down,” She squealed. 
Harry glanced at her, grinning when he saw how wide the smile was on her face. He pressed his finger on the button to wind down all the windows, “Oh shit I love this song,” He turned the volume up on the stereo as Beyonce’s ‘Love on Top’ started playing, blaring loudly through the speakers of his car. 
“Baby it’s you! You’re the one I love! You’re the one I need!” Harry screamed the lyrics of the song and Y/N’s laughter sounded through the entire car as her hair blew behind her. “Sing it, baby!” He cheered, neither of them realising what he had called her. 
“I’m not gonna sing it,” She shook her head, her eyes squeezing shut as the engine revved. 
“It’s the only way I’m gonna slow down,” He teased as the build-up to the chorus played. 
Y/N giggled as Harry began to sing solo to the chorus again, giving her a look that had her rolling her eyes before she screamed out the lyrics alongside him, “When I need you, make everything stop! Finally, you put my love on top!”
Their laughter merged together as the song played out. Harry slowed down the closer they got back to town and cast a sideways glance at Y/N who was brushing her wind-swept hair with her fingers. “You okay?” He asked, seeing the glow on her face. 
“Yeah,” She bit her lip, “I’m okay. I just don’t get to do stuff like this… ever really.”
He nodded in understanding. Harry had met Y/N’s parents a few times before. His parents were frequent visitors to their country club so he knew what they were like but he had no idea of the extent of the pressures they had put on Y/N to do well. It reminded him of his own parents and the last thing he wanted to do was allow someone to feel the same way he did whenever his parents were too hard on him. 
“Wanna pull in somewhere to get something to eat?” Harry asked. It was getting late and they both had school tomorrow but he couldn’t seem to allow himself to let her go- not when she was having so much fun. 
“Okay,” Y/N nodded. 
He pulled into a dessert shop that was still open. Y/N followed him inside and to a booth in the corner. Harry ordered both of them bowls of soft-serve ice cream and Y/N even asked if she could have a strawberry milkshake to go with it. “I shouldn’t really be eating,” She told him.
“Hmm I heard drinking strawberry milkshakes improves your footwork. They served them all the time in Australia,” Y/N shot him a look that told him she knew he was bullshitting her but it made him smile. 
“Are you nervous about the game coming up?” They’d been training non-stop every evening and Y/N was quickly improving everything she had already learnt on her own. After considering Harry’s words a few days ago, she knew Harry was right. He had been good for her technique and she felt even more sure of herself than she did at the beginning. 
“No,” She said coolly, “I don’t have time to be nervous.”
Harry scoffed, “I don’t believe that for a second.” 
The waitress came over and placed their desserts in front of them, along with a strawberry milkshake with whipped cream and a cherry on top. “Mitch says he’s going to throw a party at my place if you make it through to the semi-finals.”
“A party at your place?” Y/N quirked a brow.
Harry sighs, “He came up with the idea of throwing a party and then just kind of decided it would be at mine.” He explained. 
Y/N nodded and took a sip of her milkshake. It had been so long since she had had something so sugary and sweet. She hummed before realizing she was being watched by the boy opposite her, “Just so you know, even though you bought these desserts and taught me how to drive, doesn’t mean I like you.”
Harry laughed, his eyes crinkling and dimples carving into his cheeks. Y/N’s heart stuttered but she pushed the feeling down, “Okay, tomorrow you can go back to hating me again and we’ll pretend today didn’t happen.”
“And you can do the same,” She says. 
Harry gives her a look, his eyes flashing with something she couldn’t put a label on, “I don’t hate you Y/N.” 
She frowns, “You’ve always hated me,” 
“No,” He shook his head, “Never.”
“But you’re always making fun of me,” And she always did the same. 
“Because it’s the only way I get to speak to you.” He admits. 
Y/N’s lips parted in surprise, unable to believe what she was hearing. She had always assumed Harry had hated her since their rivalry had gone on for so long. She didn’t know what to say, confused by the sudden revelation.
“Ew,” It came out before she even had time to think, “Don’t be nice to me, it’s making me uncomfortable.” 
Harry seemed to deflate but quickly placed a smile on his face, “You make me uncomfortable and you’re singing, by the way, is awful.” 
Y/N scoffed, "At least I don't sound like a dying goat." Despite the return of their familiar banter, her heart seemed to continue to flutter under Harry's earnest gaze, stirring a mix of emotions within her that she’d never felt before. 
She didn’t know what was going on with her but the last thing she needed to think about was her emotions when her biggest goal to date was right before her. 
. . .
Three weeks had gone by far too quickly for Y/N’s liking.
“Again,” Harry drawled.
Y/N gritted her teeth and repeated the backswing technique Harry had shown her but the angle was all wrong and the ball ended up going completely off court.
“Fuck,” Y/N spat, throwing her tennis racket on the floor and squatting, balling her hands into fists on her head.
Harry sighed, walking over. “You’re nervous about tomorrow,” He stated like he didn’t need her to confirm despite the fact she had constantly told everyone she wasn’t nervous about anything. 
“I just need to win,” She mumbled.
“Get up,” Harry ordered. 
Y/N did as she was told and stood up. He grabbed the racket from the floor that she’d thrown across the court like a toddler throwing their toys out a pushchair and flipped the racket between both of his hands. He handed it back to her and grabbed his own.
“I want you to mirror my actions,” He says and stands a few steps away from her. 
He steps forward, tossing the tennis ball into the air before swinging his racket with both hands, expertly landing it in the left corner of the opposing court. Y/N tracks his every move, mimicking his actions as if she were his shadow.
Y/N’s ball lands slightly off target and Harry bites his lip to stop himself from smiling at the scowl on her face. He walks towards her and comes up behind her. Y/N’s breathing hitches when she feels his fingertips press gently on her arm. 
“You need to straighten this arm more,” He advises, his fingertips sliding down her arm and leaving a trail of goosebumps as he straightens her arm out. “Calm down,” he murmurs, his mouth near her ear, “I can feel your heart beating.”
Y/N seems to lose every ounce of oxygen when he places his hand flat against her back where he can feel her heart beating, “Breathe,” He says, “You will win tomorrow, I will make sure of it.” 
The warmth that flooded Y/N’s body quickly left as Harry took a step back, “Try it again,” He nodded towards her racket.
Y/N sighed, tensing her muscles again after Harry had practically managed to turn them into liquid. She tried to ignore the flutter in all of the pulse points in her body that were screaming to make contact with that new presence and swung her racket, landing the ball exactly where she wanted. 
“There y’ go,” He murmurs, almost as if he was saying it to himself. “I think we should call that it for today,”
“What?” Y/N frowned, “The game is tomorrow, I need to practice.”
“Y/N, we’ve been practising for half the day already. You’re going to wear yourself out if you carry on,” Harry tells her.
“Fine,” She huffed but Harry gave her a knowing look.
“Come to my place,” He offers.
“Why would I do that?” She goes to grab her sweatshirt on the bench and pulls it over her head. It was getting colder now that the sun was going down. 
“Because I know you’re just going to come back here once I leave and trust me, you don’t want to do that.” She opened her mouth to refuse but he continued, “We can watch Wimbledon on TV and order pizza.”
She wondered how he knew that Wimbledon was one of her favourite movies and pizza was her favourite food. “Is it the DVD exclusive?” Y/N asked.
Harry’s lips tilted upwards, “Of course,” Y/N nodded, following him to his car so he could drive them to his apartment. 
Y/N remembered the last time she was in Harry's car three weeks ago. It was the first time Y/N truly enjoyed being in his company and the first time she had allowed herself to have fun and relax. 
The day after,  they resumed their usual arguing as if the previous night hadn't occurred. However, Y/N found herself overwhelmed by a surge of unfamiliar emotions swirling within her.
Despite the bickering, she kept noticing things about Harry—like the way he smiled and talked. It made her feel weird like there was something more between them that she hadn't noticed before.
The air was silent between them as the radio played lowly in the background. Harry turned into a block of apartments that looked far too expensive for a student to afford all by themself. “This is where you live?” Y/N asked, her eyes widening as he pulled into a spot. 
“For now,” He says. 
Y/N trailed behind Harry as they rode the elevator to the fifth floor and made their way to his apartment. When he swung open the door, flooding the space with light, Y/N couldn't help but notice the spaciousness of the apartment, as well as its emptiness.
“I haven’t had time to unpack,” Harry said, walking to the kitchen after kicking his shoes off, “Do you want anything to drink?”
“I’ll just take a glass of water,” Y/N’s eyes darted to all of the boxes that covered the floor. 
She walked to the kitchen area and leaned against the counter, “Are those your trophies?” She asked, seeing the metal cups in an open box.
Harry smiled, “Yeah, I’ve kept all of mine even the ones that didn’t count.” 
“They all count,” Y/N grins, walking over and pulling one out, “The battle of the sexes trophy.” 
Harry smirked, walking round to stand beside her, “I still remember the look on your face when they handed me that trophy. If looks could kill, love, I don’t think I would be here.” 
“It was a big deal to me okay?” Y/N replies, “I seemed to blame you for all my losses when I was a kid.” 
Harry’s expression softens and his head turns to look at her, “Will you blame me if you don’t win tomorrow?” 
Y/N’s smile falters, “No, I’d blame myself. I think if I lost this, I don’t know who I would be anymore. Tennis is my life.”
Harry’s eyes glint underneath the soft lighting of the kitchen, “God,” He whispers, “You drive me crazy y’ know that?” 
“What are you talking about?” 
“Do you think you could love anything more?” He asks, ignoring her question. 
“I can’t think of anything, if I did I’d have to love it an awful lot.”
“Okay,” He nods like he’s accepting a challenge. 
Y/N narrows her eyes, “What are you thinking?” 
“Nothing,” He shrugs, “But I want you to know-”
Before Harry could finish his sentence, the door swings open and the shrill sound of his mother’s voice fills the air. Y/N stands straight and she notices Harry tense up, taking a step in front of her, he pushes her behind him.
“Harry,” His mother sighs, “How are you darling?” 
“Mum,” He replies, curtly, “What are you doing here?”
“Your father’s running late home so I thought I would come by to see how you were,” She says and then looks behind him.
Y/N doesn’t need Harry to introduce her as she steps forward and holds out a hand, “Hi Mrs Styles, it’s nice to see you again.” 
"Y/N?" Anne gasped, her eyes widening in surprise. "You've grown so much, you're beautiful." She reached out, taking both of Y/N's hands in hers and giving her an appraising look.
Y/N's cheeks flushed at the compliment. "Thank you, Mrs. Styles," she stammered, feeling a mixture of nerves and warmth.
Anne smiled warmly. "Oh, call me Anne," she insisted before turning her attention to Harry. "I didn't know you two were such good friends."
Y/N and Harry exchanged a quick glance, both unsure of how to respond.
"I'm her coach," they both blurted out simultaneously, the words tumbling out in a rush.
Anne's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "What?" she exclaimed, her gaze flitting between them. "You're coaching?"
Harry nodded, his expression serious. "Yes," he confirmed quietly.
"But Harry, your injury," Anne interjected, concern evident in her voice as she glanced down at his leg. "You're not meant to be—"
"I'm fine, Mum," Harry interrupted sharply, his tone making no room for argument.
"Harry, you know you can’t be playing-"
"I said I'm fine," Harry's voice rose, his frustration evident as he cut her off, causing Y/N to jump at the sudden outburst.
Anne's concern softened into a resigned sigh, her eyes reflecting a mixture of worry and understanding. "Alright, Harry," she relented, her tone gentler now. "Just promise me you're taking care of yourself."
Harry's features softened, a hint of remorse flickering in his eyes. "I promise, Mum," he said, his voice softer now, more subdued.
Anne nodded, a small smile playing on her lips. "Good. That's all I ask."
As the atmosphere relaxed, Anne turned her attention back to Y/N, her smile warm and welcoming. "Well, it's lovely to see you again, Y/N," she said kindly. “Tell your parents we’ll be stopping by in the spring.”
Y/N returned the smile, her earlier nervousness dissipating in the warmth of Anne's acceptance. "It was nice to see you too, " she replied sincerely.
Harry glanced at Y/N, a softness in his gaze that made her heart skip a beat. After seeing his mother out following her very brief visit, Y/N finally mustered the courage to ask, "What was she talking about?"
Harry's expression turned grave, his features shadowed by a sense of burden. "It was nothing," he replied.
"Why can't you play?" Y/N pushed, her concern evident in her voice.
"Y/N, I'm telling you to leave it alone," Harry warned, his tone firm.
But Y/N couldn't let it go. "If it's nothing, then why can't you tell me?" she insisted, her frustration bubbling to the surface.
"Because it's none of your business, that's why," Harry snapped, his words cutting like a knife. 
"Nothing I do or say has anything to do with you, so go back to hating me because it's a hell of a lot easier than what I have to deal with."
Y/N's heart sank at his harsh words. With a deep breath, she crossed her arms, her resolve hardening. "You know, now I remember why we never got along in the first place," she retorted, her voice laced with bitterness. With a sharp turn on her heel, she made her way to the front door. "You're such an asshole, Harry."
"Y/N," Harry called out, his voice tinged with regret as she stormed out of his apartment towards the elevator. "Y/N, come on, don't be like that."
"Go suck a dick," she shot back, stepping into the elevator before Harry could stop her.
As the doors closed, Harry's shoulders slumped in defeat. "Let me drive you back, at least," he pleaded, his voice barely audible over the sound of the closing doors.
"Fine," Y/N huffed, her tone clipped with annoyance.
The car ride back to her dorm was tense and silent. When Harry pulled into the front of her dormitory, Y/N moved to open the door finding the silence far too uncomfortable. Then, out of nowhere, Harry's voice broke the silence. "I can't play tennis anymore," he confessed, his words heavy.
Y/N's heart stopped, her breath catching in her throat. "What do you mean you can't play anymore? That's ridiculous," she exclaimed, her disbelief evident in her voice.
Harry's hands tightened on the wheel, his knuckles turning white. "I mean I can't ever play tennis again," he admitted, his voice cracking with emotion.
"Are you serious?" Y/N asked, her voice trembling with shock.
"I tore my ACL during practice for the French Open. I—" Harry's voice trailed off, unable to continue, “It was so bad Y/N and I was in so much fucking pain and no one would listen to me. I went through multiple surgeries and rehab but the doctors sat me down and said I couldn’t play unless I wanted to fuck up my leg for the rest of my life.” 
“Harry…” Y/N’s eyes glistened with tears. 
Her breath caught in her throat as the weight of Harry's words sank in. She glanced over at him, seeing the pain etched in his features, and felt a surge of empathy wash over her. It was a devastating blow for someone who had dedicated their life to the sport they loved.
"I'm so sorry, Harry," Y/N whispered, her voice filled with genuine sadness for the boy beside her.
Harry managed a small nod, his gaze fixed on the road ahead, “That’s why I had to come back here. My father can barely look at me and my mother won’t leave me alone. At least here I can be around people my own age but when I’m at home, it’s fucking suffocating Y/N.”
Y/N didn’t know what to say. She couldn’t imagine losing the one thing she loved above anything else in the world and have to re-construct everything she had ever known to find something else to love just as much. 
“I don’t expect you to say anything but I’d appreciate it if you showed me a little mercy,” He spoke. 
“Why would you offer to coach me then? Would that not make things worse?” She asked.
He looks at her, really looks at her, like there was something on the tip of his tongue he wanted to say but couldn’t, “I figured it would alleviate the pain.” 
“But I saw you play, I watched you and you beat me,” She exclaimed.
“Yeah and it hurt like a bitch afterwards,” He shook his head.
Y/N couldn’t believe what she was hearing. She wondered why Harry had been unwilling to play against her during the training sessions and now she knew why. She felt awful, her heart was hurting for him. 
“I don’t want you to feel pity for me and I don’t want this to change anything between us. I’m tired of being treated like a broken toy and I think it would kill me inside if you looked at me differently.” 
Y/N stayed quiet, facing forward and collecting her thoughts before saying, “Thank you for telling me,” She murmured, “And it doesn’t change anything. You’re still an asshole,”
Harry laughed and then his pinky brushed the side of her hand, “You will be everything tomorrow.” He whispered.
Y/N’s heart fluttered at the soft edge of his words, “You think so?”
His eyes softened, “I believe in you, more than anyone in the entire world.”
She nodded, taking a deep breath and looking out the window. The tension had settled and now a newfound respect lingered between them. 
She would win tomorrow, for herself and for him. 
. . . 
It had been a while since Harry had been to a tennis tournament. The last time he was on a court for an official match was well over six months ago, it was a challenger match he participated in during his training for the French Open before his life took a vast turn. 
He sat in the stands with everyone else from Crestwood who had come to watch the first game. Although Crestwood Academy invested more in the football team than any other sport, the turnout had been pretty good and nearly every seat was occupied by a student or teacher. 
On the opposite side was Eaststone Academy who seemed to have invested heavily in their merchandise for Y/N’s opponent. Everyone was either wearing a t-shirt with Vanya’s name on it or carrying a sign with supportive catchphrases written in bold marker. 
Harry craned his neck in hopes of seeing Y/N preparing herself somewhere outside of the court but couldn’t find her anywhere. He’d sent her a quick message this morning and asked her if she needed anything but she insisted she wanted to be alone. 
“Fuck, it’s good we got in the queue early,” Mitch came by with an anxious Sarah, holding two cokes in his hand. They were both wearing navy shirts and sweatbands around their heads, Sarah was holding a sign that had Y/N’s name on it. 
“She’s gonna hate you for that,” Harry tried not to smile.
“Oh I already know,” Sarah said, “She watched me make it last night and then almost ripped in half when I asked her if I should bedazzle it.”
Harry’s expression changed into one of concern, “How was she?”
“She’s nervous but she insisted she was okay,” Sarah rolled her eyes, “You know how she is.”
He did, which was why he was willing to accept the fact she wanted to be by herself even though he was desperate to drive over there with strawberry milkshakes just so he could see that smile he had been dreaming about for the past three weeks. 
Suddenly, Eaststone Academy stood from their seats and cheered as Vanya Maddison came onto the court. “I’ve never seen such long legs,” Sarah gasped, saying what both Harry and Mitch were thinking. 
Harry’s heart pounded in his chest as the people around him stood on their feet. He glanced down to the court and his eyes fell on Y/N as she walked onto the court with a dip between her brows and her tennis bag over her shoulder. 
She was wearing a white, pleated skort and a Ralph Lauren polo shirt. Her hair was slicked back as tightly as possible into a braid and her white runners were tied up on her feet. He noticed she was wearing earbuds in her ears and then found the walkman he had given her clipped to her skort. He smiled at that, wondering which of the many songs he had put together she was listening to. 
“There she is,” Sarah pointed and then waved to get her attention. 
Y/N held a hand over her face to block the sun and looked up at the crowd. When she caught sight of Sarah, she offered a friendly wave before her eyes landed on Harry. She gave him a nod of acknowledgement and then walked to her seat on the other side of the umpire. 
“C’mon,” Harry murmured, feeling his palms sweating at the sight of her. 
“She’s got this in the bag, H.” Mitch puts a hand on his shoulder. 
Through the speakers, the umpire calls out the start of the match and everyone falls silent as both players walk to opposing sides of the court. Y/N bounces on her feet and swings her racket backwards and forwards as though warming herself up before the match starts.
When the first serve came, Y/N's reflexes kicked in. She returned the ball swiftly, keeping the rally going with her quick movements, remembering what Harry had taught her. Each exchange became more intense, but Y/N stayed determined, chasing down every ball.
When Vanya hit the ball for the other corner, Y/N ran towards it and returned the ball swiftly, earning the first point with a well-placed shot. The crowd erupted into cheers as Y/N gained an early lead.
“That’s my girl!” Harry clapped his heart in his throat. 
But Vanya wasn't about to let up. With determination in her eyes, she fought back, winning the next two points with powerful serves and precise shots. The score was now in Vanya's favor, and the pressure was on for Y/N.
“Fuck!” Y/N released a growl and hit her racket against the floor before storming off to her seat. Harry was tempted to walk down and help her but he needed to let her see what she was capable of on her own. 
Her anger was radiating from her, “I’d hate to get on her bad side,” Mitch said. 
Harry couldn’t seem to reply as he leant forward with both his elbows on his knees. “C’mon, c’mon, you can do it.” He mutters, thinking of the first bit of advice he had given her. 
“Do you know what your biggest strength is in this game?” Harry asked.
“My speed?” Y/N frowned. 
“Your anger,” He replies, “Off the court, it’s a little annoying but on the court, it’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. Use it.” 
Y/N rolled her shoulders back and stood on her feet. She walked back to her line on the court and bounced the ball up and down on the ground before throwing it up in the air and hitting it with a flat serve, exactly the way Harry had taught her. Her anger radiated from her as she slammed the ball with her racket and hit it with such force it went flying to the other end of the court but not before bouncing inside the square right by Vanya’s foot. 
Harry stood to his feet and pumped his fist into the air, “Holy shit!” Mitch exclaimed as Sarah cheered beside him. 
They were now at match point and Y/N had to win this next round if she wanted to win the entire game.
The tension thickened in the air as people sat on the edge of their seats to see who would come out on top. This time, it was Vanya’s turn to serve as she launched the ball into the air and hit it with her racket to Y/N’s side of the court.
As Y/N unleashed powerful serves and precise shots, Harry found himself captivated by her every move. With each grunt of exertion, each flex of her muscles, he couldn't tear his eyes away from her. Despite the shifting heads of the spectators around him as they followed the ball back and forth, his gaze remained fixed solely on her.
Every aspect of Y/N's play had him in a trance—the way her muscles rippled as she sprinted across the court, the intensity in her expression as she anticipated Vanya’s next move, the graceful sway of her hair with each swing of her racket.
But as Harry watched, something stirred within him. A warmth spread through his veins, igniting a fire deep within him. Suddenly, he felt a tightness in his shorts, a physical reaction to the raw power and determination radiating from Y/N on the court.
"Oh, fuck," Harry muttered under his breath, his heart racing as he glanced down and saw the undeniable bulge in his shorts. Panic surged through him, his mind reeling with embarrassment.
"What's wrong?" Mitch's voice cut through his thoughts, and Harry quickly lowered his drink to conceal his arousal.
“N-Nothing,” Harry forces a smile, “I need to use the bathroom.” He doesn’t wait for Mitch to respond as she pushes past everyone to get away from the crowd.
He walks quickly over to his car and jumps into the driver's seat, slamming the door behind him. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” He didn’t know what to do. He felt like he was thirteen years old after experiencing girls for the first time again. Was it wrong to rub himself off in the middle of a tennis match when all he was looking at was the girl who played his favourite sport better than anyone he had ever seen, dominating the game with her anger and intensity like she was a complete animal?
He couldn’t shake the image of her from his mind and his cock seemed to ache the more he thought about how beautiful she was on the court, completely in her element, anger and passion emitting from her. Every grunt and groan she made as she hit the ball with so much fervor had his head spiralling. 
He looked down and tried to will it away, he needed to get back out there to see her win the game. He thought of every disturbing thing he could possibly think of and even took out his phone to google the quickest way to get rid of an erection.
The excited yells of the crowd told him someone had won and he prayed he would return and see Y/N with the medal around her neck. 
After about ten minutes of taking deep breaths, he finally felt composed enough to leave his car. With a flustered face, he made his way back toward the court, silently praying for some kind of cosmic intervention to erase the embarrassing moment from his memory.
As he turned the corner, he spotted Mitch and Sarah engaged in conversation with Y/N, who was proudly wearing the gold medal around her neck. She had won - he knew she would. 
Y/N's eyes lit up as she noticed him, a wide smile spreading across her face as she proudly displayed her medal. Unable to resist, he grinned back in response.
Sweat glistened on her skin, her cheeks flushed with exertion, and delicate strands of hair framed her face. At that moment, she radiated beauty, and he couldn't deny the sudden surge of emotions that had slowly been weaving themselves into the fabric of his feelings ever since he had returned to Crestwood. 
If the past fifteen minutes were anything to go by, Harry knew this was more than just a game of tennis. 
He was in trouble.
. . .
People cheered as Y/N entered Harry’s apartment with Sarah at her side, holding beer cans in the air and patting her on the shoulder as she sifted through the crowds of people. S&M by Rhianna played over the speakers as the apartment that was previously empty was now filled up with student’s from Crestwood. 
“There she is,” Mitch’s voice yelled over the music, “Crestwood’s very own Serena Williams,”
“I wouldn’t go that far Mitch,” She chuckled, unable to stop herself from smiling so hard after the excitement of her first win. 
Y/N’s eyes scanned the room as she went in search of the one person she wanted to see whilst everyone fell into conversation around her. 
That’s when she saw him, leaning against the wall with a red solo cup in his hand. His hair was a tangled mess, and his body was adorned in a loose, white shirt, its u-neck revealing the inked pair of swallows beneath his collarbones and gold chain around his neck. On his legs, he wore a loose pair of black trousers.
Y/N held back a smile as she made her way over to him until she realised who he was talking to. 
Her face fell as she saw the angelic blonde, tanned and glowing like she’d just come back from a holiday somewhere south of the equator. 
Harry’s face lit up as Y/N approached until he realised what was going on.
“Hey,” He smiled, trying to distract her. 
“Where were you?” Y/N snapped her gaze towards him. 
“What do y’ mean? M right here,” He spoke, “You were incredible out there.”
“Who’s this?” Y/N ignored him, folding her arms and looking at the girl he was speaking to. Y/N knew exactly who she was but felt the need to act as though she had never seen her before. 
Harry hesitated for a moment before introducing her. “Y/N, this is Astrid.”
Astrid flashed a dazzling smile at Y/N, her demeanour friendly yet confident. “Congratulations on the win today, Y/N. I’m looking forward to our match in the semifinals.”
Harry's reaction was immediate. “What?” he stammered, clearly taken aback.
“You didn’t know?” Astrid asked, surprised. “Y/N and I will be facing off in the semifinals.”
Y/N grit her teeth and forced a smile, the two girls eyeing each other up and down as Harry’s eyes darted anxiously between them.
Now that Y/N was into the semi-finals her next opponent was Astrid Anderson, one of the best junior, female tennis players in the county. 
Who just so happened to be Harry’s ex-girlfriend.
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jennifer-jeong · 3 days
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[Smut] [Various x AFAB!Reader] “Force me and choke me ‘till I pass out”
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CONTENT
"My kinda love" Song: The Weeknd - One Of The Girls
NSFW, 18+, smut, assigned female at birth (AFAB) reader, fem reader, hard kinks, kissing, choking, ripping clothes, getting manhandled, hair pulling, spanking, vaginal penetration, belly bulge, clit play, orgasm, creampie, established relationship, consent implied, safeword mention but not used during it, your boyfriend being soft with you when he’s not rearranging your insides, ALL CHARACTERS ARE 18+
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RYOMEN SUKUNA, FUSHIGURO TOJI, Gojo Satoru, Geto Suguru, Nanami Kento, EREN YEAGER, CHILDE, WRIOTHESLEY, Wanderer
Word Count: 1371
You absolutely loved how rough your boyfriend was with you. He was a bit pent up after not seeing you for a few days so as soon as you walked in the door, his hand was on your neck, pushing his lips onto yours. He forced your body against the wall as he deepened the kiss.
You moaned into the kiss while his free hand roamed your body. “Babe wai-” you said as you tried to pull away from the kiss. “Shut up, be good f’me” he growled back before slamming his lips into yours again as heat pooled at your core at the sentence. He grabbed at your tits then slid around to your ass to slap it, hard. You mewled at the sting and the sounds you were making fogged up your boyfriend's mind. The only thing going on in his mind was your body and how he needed it right now. His hand left your neck so both hands could rip your black leggings in half. You were about to protest but he quickly threw you over his shoulder. The ease with which he tossed your body around was dizzying. It was fucking hot.
“Eager are we?” you tease.
“I know you love it.” He says while he reaches his free arm across to spank your ass.
He wasted no time in standing you in front of the bed and bending you over. He hooked a finger under your panties, moaning at the strings of slick connecting the fabric to your pussy.
“You really are such a good fucking girl f’me,” he says in a deep voice laced with pure lust.
“Mmph- just for you daddy~” you reply, arching your back and showing off your ass to him.
He rips your panties in half as well, needing access immediately. You start to get up so you could at least take off your shirt and help him take some clothes off but he grips your hips hard and pushes you back into the bed.
“Where do you think you’re going princess? I can’t wait any longer,” he says.
“Wha-” you start but he cuts you off by grabbing a fist full of your hair and pushing your face into the plush blankets. He pulls down his pants just enough to take his aching hard-on out, not wanting to waste time taking his pants off fully. He uses his free hand to rub his tip along your slick folds which earns him a muffled whimper from you.
You want to tell him to at least be gentle if he’s not going to prep you with his fingers but it just comes out as muffles into the bed.
“Hm? Can’t hear ya darling, gotta speak up,” he says with a shit eating grin that makes your eyes roll even though you can’t see it, you just know that he’s doing it.
He pops the tip into your aching cunt and you think he’s going to ease you into it but you’re quickly cut off by his cock ramming into you all at once. The stretch stings but very quickly turns into pleasure especially after you feel him twitch inside you and moan loudly.
“So fucking wet ngh- you’re spoiling me, doll,” he moans breathlessly.
He starts moving, your slick helping him glide in and out. His veiny shaft drags your walls in all the right ways. Something about the feeling of the skin on his raw cock just feels so much more heavenly than any dildo. Not to mention the pure fucking size of him. He was big enough to kiss your cervix even in this position. He knows exactly how to find your sensitive spots and so he angles his hips down to drag his cock along your g spot every thrust. The girth and length added to the pleasure since he made you feel so full and was able to stimulate your a spot and cervix too.
Soon after, he starts to speed up and the “plap” sounds of his skin hitting yours starts to echo around you two.
“Fuuuck, you’re so fucking perfect. You take me so fucking well.” He groans through his teeth, hand still fisting your hair, giving you a dull sting on your scalp that he knows you love.
You’re still moaning into the bed, slowly going dumb as he fucks you so good your vision blurs. He’s not even touching your clit or anything yet and you’re so fucking close. Your mixed arousal was soaking whatever was left of your ripped leggings as it all slowly dripped down from your sopping cunt.
“Ngghhh fuck, such a good fucking slut f’me,” he says as he starts getting close. He spanks you as his mind starts to function on pure desire as lust takes over him. He alternates between your left and right cheek, spanking until they’re both red while you mewl at every hit.
He suddenly releases your hair and pulls you up so he can choke you with one hand. His arm is wrapped around to the front of your body as he applies pressure onto your neck. Your voice, no longer muffled, is driving him crazy.
“Ngh-! D-daddy, feels s’good. You fill me up so good mmmphh! Ah-!” you moan out to him.
“Yeah? Mmm, can feel you twitching around me princess, gonna cum?”
You manage a small “mmhm” in response, your eyes rolled back into your skull.
His free hand finds its way to your lower stomach. He feels himself bulging through your skin every time he thrusts. It turns both of you on so much. He presses on it to make you feel more pressure on your g spot.
“Haah! P-please d-daddy,” you beg mindlessly, not even able to voice what you want.
He knows exactly what you need though. His hand from your stomach travels south towards your clit. “Don’t worry baby, let go. You deserve it.” He starts playing with your clit as you choke out sobs. Your head starting to feel the effects of him choking you so hard.
You arch your back as you start to approach your high, eyes squeezed shut and rolled back into your head.
“Yeah, c’mon baby, you can do it. Such a good girl,” he encourages you and releases some pressure on your neck. Your orgasm finally hits like a fucking truck. Your body seizes and your cunt clenches around him as intense waves of pleasure wash over you, your mind going blank. You let out high pitched moans that turn into deeper, full moans as you start to come down and register the pleasure.
“G-gonna cum mmph-! Inside, darling,” he stutters out to you, not even sure if you heard him.
Now you’re both moaning messes as his thrusts go from erratically fast to slow and languid. Pushing the cum in and out of you, helping both of you ride your highs for as long as possible.
He finally stills, deep inside you as both of you breathe heavily. He lets go of you so you can relax and lay back down. He helps you lay down on your back, admiring you and the cum dripping out of you. He bends down to kiss you slow.
“Love you s’much baby. Was that okay?” He asks.
“Love… you… too…that was amazing… don’t worry” you say between breaths.
“Okayy, just making sure you remember that we have a safeword. I don’t ever wanna hurt you darling.” He says, adoration and concern in his eyes as he kisses your cheeks and forehead.
“You’re so sweet but we talked about this” you giggle. “You’re always so thoughtful for reminding me though… But… you know this is how I like it sometimes,” you say in a flirty tone.
“Oh?” he chuckles. “Well then…”
He starts to manhandle your shirt and bra off you before sliding the ripped fabric of your pants off. You giggle at his eagerness.
He get himself undressed and slots himself between your legs again, grabbing the back of your knees and pushing them towards your chest, bending you in half.
“Don’t mind if I do,,,” He finishes his sentence.
You were in for a long night with your lover. But, you had no complaints <3
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Thank you for reading!
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|| MASTERLIST<3 ||
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pacifierbby · 3 days
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LUCKY CHARM ✧  ; - LN4
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Taglist 𐙚 masterlist
* ੈ✩‧₊ lando always said that you were his lucky charm as you always kissed the top of landos helmet on every race
: ̗̀➛ LN4 x reader
: ̗̀➛ fluffy, kissing
: ̗̀➛ Word count 549
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From the beginning of your and Landos's relationship, he always told you you were his good luck charm in every race that you could possibly attend. You just thought that your being there in the stands was the luck he actually needed but he always patted you on the side giving you the go-ahead to kiss the top of his helmet before jumping into his car and giving you the thumbs up with a quiet "thank you my lucky charm". You just always laughed it off. I never believed him. You knew deep down that it was all Lando.
Stopping in front of the McLaren garage you and Lando hand in hand "You okay my love" stepping in front of you so you guys are face to face nodding lightly his hand pushing a small piece of hair away from your face "Just nervous as always" you laughed lightly. Lando always knew about the consequences when joining f1 racing, and so did you when you guys first got together. Every time he invited you to one of his races, the nerves always seemed to bubble up inside of you.
"I'll be okay, you know," looking directly at you through his mirror, "I know Lan, but I always will forever have that feeling inside my gut" getting up from the sofa slowly walking towards where lando was stood placing his arm around your waist pulling you in " I know my love I understand but let's not thing about that ay" rubbing your waist gently. Giving you a kiss on the side of your head, "I should be comforting you , not you comforting me," you laughed, making him smile slightly at you.
Lando was happy that he found someone who cared about him and who just understood that sometimes his work schedule is hard to find the right time to spend with one another, but she always made sure that Lando knew that the facetimes and the spontinatious days or nights out meant something for her and that's what makes lando fall in love with her more and more.
He took his helmet from the shelf, placed it on his head, and tapped the top, signalling to kiss it. She rolled her eyes a little as Lando bent down to her height and pressed a kiss on his helmet. "Thank you, my lucky charm," he said, grabbing her hand and leading her to the McLaren garages.
Watching Lando getting in the McLaren car the technicians and everyone surrounding him. Lando giving you a little wave and slight kiss which you catched and blowing him a kiss back.
You knew one day that you would marry this man and doesn't matter how many times you had to kiss the top of his helmet giving him the luck that he truly needed just to see him on that podium first or third will forever make you proud of him being on the stands celebrating with him and watching him spray the champagne is something you will forever enjoy watching. But when he comes down and celebrates with you for the five minutes he has time before interviews will forever make your heart dance the love that you have for this man is powerful.
Just like Lando told you you are his lucky charm.
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© pacifierbby works
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somewhere in the back of your mind, you know this isn’t how it should be. 
your living room is dimly lit, illuminated only by the tv in front of you, and the moon is glowing a pearlescent blue. flimsy strings of moonlight spill over your floorboards, reflecting off the windows, and whatever you’re doing isn’t what you should be doing. you shouldn’t be awake this late, shouldn’t be gorging on sweets before bed, shouldn’t be having a rendezvous with an enemy — shouldn’t be watching movies with your ex of ten years. 
most of all, you shouldn’t be feeling nearly this content.
getō is seated right beside you, legs comfortably spread, popping a macaron into his mouth. chewing it slowly, savouring the flavour — or lack thereof, you suppose. he can’t taste much, anymore; one too many curses digested. or so he says.
this time, he brought pastries with him. expensive ones, you can tell, just from the package alone — a soft pastel pink box, wrapped up in silk, golden letters etched into the front. mont blancs, macarons, two slices of strawberry shortcake. carefully picked, suited to your tastes.
(you aren’t actually too fond of sweets, anymore, but how is he to know? he hasn’t seen you in years.)
”would you like me to make us some tea?”
when you turn your gaze towards him, getō’s wearing a smile. laid-back, the slightest upward curl, tilting his head in a manner you’re far too used to. eyes shining with something keen. somehow, it feels difficult to tear your gaze away from his.
but you manage, turning forward, grasping control over your sleepy vocal cords. ”no, i’m good.”
a low hum. he’s still looking at you. ”coffee?”
”the sweets are more than enough.”
this time, a smile, one you can’t see but still somehow sense. a little bit amused. geto gazes at you with a knowing look, watches you glance at the box of pastries on your coffee table — studying you under the monochrome flicker of the tv-screen. 
”understood,” he finally quips, leaning back into the leather couch, exhaling a little breath. ”eat as much as you’d like. i bought them for you, you know.”
you nod, nibbling at a macaron. not glancing his way.
being alone with him still feels a little awkward. a little tense, to be curled up on the same couch, watching the same movie, just like your old sleepovers in high school. there’s an elephant in the room that neither of you have addressed — not since he first showed up, just a couple weeks ago, waltzing up to your apartment with a plastic bag of dvds after a decade of estrangement. wearing heavy robes, and a familiar smile. asking to be let in.
and despite every single circumstance telling you not to, you did just that. you’ve yet to refuse. 
(satoru would hate you, if he knew.)
so he’s there, right beside you, and you don’t talk about it. not his choice, not your work, not anything except the movie playing on the screen in front of you. this time, it’s one he’s seen before — beautiful, he called it, and for once you think it might be a romance; if the kiss between the main actors is anything to go by. 
you wonder if that’s why he says it.
”say, do you hate me?”
you still. freezing in place, for a moment, discontent but not surprised. he’s always been like this; breaking the illusion of peace before you can find any solace in it. 
you bite back a groan, and shoot him a glance out of the corner of your eye — but he isn’t looking at you. only at the tv, at the two men, holding hands and standing on a bridge in the rain, watching the stars twinkle in the sky. and you sigh, turning your head to look at him fully, parting your lips. your voice comes out frustrated. 
”do you really want to have this conversation now?”
”when else?” he chuckles, meeting your gaze with one brow raised. amber eyes gleaming with mirth, and something else, something less practiced. ”you don’t have to answer. i’m just curious.”
you gulp down the last of the macaron, licking your lips for any leftover crumbs — unaware of how his eyes follow the movement. ”are you?”
a hum buzzes in the back of his throat, a tiny rasp. you wonder if he’s tired. ”i hadn’t expected this, you know.” he taps at his knee with the pads of his fingers, rhythmic and controlled. ”i thought it was just wishful thinking… that you’d let me come this close.”
you feel his gaze on you. it’s heavy, heavy like lead, like a loaded gun. you feel it dissect you from afar, and can’t find it in you to reach for another pastry. 
”… would you have preferred being kicked out?”
”not at all.” a little grin plays at his lips, something in his voice betraying the face he’s making. ”are you avoiding the question?” 
another sigh. you’re painfully aware of how resigned it sounds, spilling out into the open air, already filling with a sense of dread; any leftover nostalgia bursting at the seams. you want to tell him so many things, but every thread inside your mind feels all tangled up.
and, as always, getō beats you to the punch. 
”that’s fine, too.” a brief pause, a twitch of his pinkie. he closes his eyes, a flutter of his lashes, and inhales a breath. ”— because i’ll keep waiting.”
for a second, you consider not taking the bait. 
… then you’re giving in. because that’s what you always do, whenever he’s involved. you watch him in the dark, pale skin enveloped by moonlight, raven hair spilling across the headrest. he looks beautiful, just resting his eyes.
”… for what?” you whisper, and his answer comes without a hitch to his breath.
”for you to love me again.”
getō tilts his head, opening his eyes, a golden brown dragging you into their depths. he looks expectant, selfishly awaiting a response, and you’re tired. 
(unbeknownst to you, he resists the urge to intertwine his fingers with yours, to trace every ridge and dip of your knuckles with his thumb. to squeeze your palm like a promise, something concrete.)
when your mind has managed to untangle itself, something in your gaze turns sharp. frustrated, impatient, disappointed, looking at him with a raised brow. ”you really are stupid, aren’t you?”
as fast as it came, your gaze returns to the screen in front of you. monochrome, flickering, two beautiful men. one of them is holding a gun to the other’s temple, and the victim looks appeased. the movie’s almost over.
(how very like him, to find such violence beautiful.)
quietly, you swallow down the bile building up in the back of your throat. a decade of bitter flavours. clenching your teeth, nails digging into the couch beneath you, leather on your cold fingertips. it’s a little peeled.
you wonder why you even bother being honest, when he never quite seems to return the favour.
but the room is dimly lit, and the moon is big and bright, and your ex of ten years is sitting right next to you. in your apartment, on your couch, watching a movie on your tv. when he could, should be anywhere else. he’s with you, and he pulls the words out of your throat without trying. puppeteering your heartbeat.
”… as if i ever stopped.”
silence.
you hear a gunshot ring out. low, muffled, a crackle of static. one of the men falls down to the ground, and you can’t tell who's who. the actors are forgettable, but the soundtrack is pretty. it rings in your ears like a lullaby. 
getō says your name.
it sounds the same as you remember. honeyed syllables, spilling from his parted lips, silky and sweet. he says your name like he’s asking to marry you, and you can hear the smile he’s struggling to repress.
”will you look at me?”
it’s less of a question, and more of a demand. you wonder why he even bothers asking — but you’ve never really understood the way his brain works. never understood why a burglar would bother asking the shopkeeper for permission before reaching for the register, when they’ll be leaving with the money either way. 
and you’re paralyzed, stuck in place on the couch, gaze glued to the screen in front of you. but you aren’t watching, not really, just looking. and you don’t want to see what kind of face he’s making. so you whisper;
”.. no.”
”no?” he mimics, something like a coo on the tip of his tongue, lightly amused. as always, you can feel his gaze, travelling down your face like a trickle of honey. ”and why is that, my dear?”
you bite down on your lip.
a long, long moment passes, and neither of you say a word. he’s looking at you, and you’re looking down at your lap, at your clenched fists. a little meek. it’s quiet, the calm before the storm, and you know exactly what’s going to happen — because it’s already set in stone.
”because you’re going to kiss me,” you exhale, finally, resignation on your breath. ”and i’m going to let you.”
for a second, you wonder if his silence means he understands. if he can hear the desperate plea in your voice, if he can translate it correctly. 
but his fingertips graze the lines of your jaw, his palm sneaks under your chin, and he keeps you in place. turning your head to meet his gaze, his amber eyes, dripping with something hungry; something pleading. 
this time, he doesn’t ask for permission. he leans forward until there’s no space between you, tips your head back, and kisses you with bated breath — as softly as he can manage, which is still too intense for your liking. still brimming with desperation, something carnal, like he wants to pour his everything into the kiss but knows he shouldn’t. he tastes like tobacco.
and it’s over. 
you know it is, because your senses are flooded with him, him, him. nothing but him, the strands of his raven hair ghosting your skin, his greedy tongue licking along your teeth, large palms resting on your spine and the back of your head. you’re pliant, surrendering yourself to his touch. he’s cradling you like he loves you, and you feel like you’ve done something awful, because you have.
because you’ve let him come so close, again, invited him inside — inside of your home, your ribcage. and he won’t bother making a home for himself there, because it’s already waiting for him, untouched, between your fourth and fifth ribs.
you never bothered to get rid of it.
(that’s your sin.)
getō hums, muffled by your lips. he sounds pleased. he sounds like he’s been waiting for this for decades, and you suppose that he has. he murmurs praise that you do nothing but swallow down.
everything feels too perfect, too normal, and it’s too much, too much, too much. your lips pressed together, your chests pressed together, your noses meeting in a tender touch. you choke down the noise that threatens to push past your lips, and he kisses you like a starved man. like he’s trying to drown in you.
he only pulls away once he realizes that you’re crying, and by then it’s too late. his widening eyes don’t matter, your cold hands don’t matter, the tremble of your erratic heartbeat has never mattered less. he looks at you with remorse, and it doesn’t matter. 
(he’s yours, again, and you’re his.
you can’t stop crying.)
”… i’m sorry.”
in the background, you hear the sound of gentle whispers, an ending scene. the men are talking to each other, speaking softly, and your eyes burn with tears. geto catches one of them with his forefinger, and leans forward to plant a kiss against your nose. chaste, this time. still mumbling apologies.
it doesn’t matter, because a tiny sob still breaks past your throat — and you know the sound must hurt him. 
you hate that. you hate that you always hurt him, hate that you care, hate that you feel nothing but guilt when he’s around. you hate the movie still playing to your left, hate that he doesn’t hate it, hate that he loves you. hate that you love him, that you probably always will.
you hate that you blink up at him with glassy eyes, swallow down a shaky breath, and kiss him again. hate that it’s still the only thing you know how to do well.
he doesn’t pull away, only biting back a noise of surprise — but he makes sure to kiss you gently, as if you’re made of porcelain, slow and tender, cradling you closer still. he wipes away your tears with his thumb, one after another, and you hate yourself because everything feels so deliriously right.
somewhere in the back of your mind, you know that what you’re playing is a losing game. 
(he’s yours, and you’re his. it’s already set in stone.) 
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enwoso · 3 days
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Could you maybe write something for lia wälti? Maybe her and reader are babysitting a friends toddler, just some domesticity and lia swooning at r interacting with the kid
CAN’T WAIT - lia wälti
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"me want to help!" poppy smiled sweetly giving you those cute little eyes that made it so hard for you to say no to. "okay, you can have your own special job!" you smiled as you picked her up and sat her on the counter top, a small little cheer coming from the four year old as you tried to think of something you could give her to do to keep her little brain occupied for some time.
“look, so first we snap the end off then you’ll can open and put the peas in here” you demonstrated to poppy how to do the pea pods and she nodded as you showed her, a little smile appearing on her face as she managed to open a pod by herself.
“good job!” you smiled, holding you hand up for the little girl to high five. your girlfriend watching on as her heart warmed watching you interact with the young girl, her mind wandering for a moment about what life would be like when the two of you had your own little family, leaving her wondering if you had thought about it too.
poppy was your older brothers daughter, a confident little girl who was not scared to say or do anything. which sometimes would get the little girl in some trouble but it would always make for great stories when she was older.
you and lia had offered to look after poppy after your brother was left stuck after your mum had gotten her dates mixed up and could no longer look after poppy while your brother and his wife went for some spa retreat for their anniversary.
and if you were being honest part of you was glad your mum had gotten her date mixed up as it had meant you could spend some quality time with your niece.
you had picked the little girl up from school, surprising her as she came out the classroom running into both yours and lia's arms while talking at a hundred miles per hour at how excited she was to see the both of you.
chatting both yours and your girlfriends ears off the whole car ride back to yours and lia’s home, telling you every detail of her day from what she had for breakfast to what colour pencil she coloured her drawing in with at school.
now she was ‘helping’ make dinner and by that she was just ordering you and lia around. “can you help?” she asked as she held up a pea pod for you to open for her, you had given her the job of opening a few of them but realistically she was just getting you or lia to open them for her so she could eat the peas out of them.
“don’t forget to put the peas in here poppy!” you reminded her pointing to the blue little tub you had given poppy minutes earlier, “i won’t!” poppy sung out, as you handed her the pea pod back, and within seconds she was slotting two peas in her mouth and putting one in the little blue tub.
“think it’s a bit late for that love!” lia whispered nudging you to look inside the bowl, where there was three little peas in there as you looked to the swiss and mumbled an ‘ah’
“poppy! your not supposed to be eating them!” lia said as she caught the little girl putting another one of the peas in her mouth instead on in her little blue tub.
“me not wally, there’s some in my tub!”
“i guess we aren’t having peas tonight..” you whispered in lia’s ear as you rested your head on shoulder, while reaching to get some of the other ingredients for dinner that were on lia’s side of the kitchen, pressing a quick kiss behind her ear.
“she too cute to be mad at, so i guess it’s okay!” your girlfriend quietly said at the two of you watched for a moment as poppy used her teeth this time to bite the end of the pod, putting all three peas in her mouth, the two of you quickly laughing at the little girls antics.
“me don’t like broccoli” poppy said as she watched you pick that up first out of the ingredients you had moved to your side of the kitchen counter, as she pulled a disgusted face as she watched you chop a little bit of the stork of the broccoli.
“don’t worry kiddo, we’ll keep the greens to a minimum for you!” lia smiled, knowing that you would put them in the dinner but cut them up really fine making the chances of the little girl even noticing them very slim.
“my daddy says they look like tiny trees he doesn’t like them either” poppy said making your girlfriend giggle at the comment as you smiled shaking your head, that was what your brother used to tell you mum when she would ask him to eat his broccoli.
“well he’s not wrong”
now that dinner was out the way, you had decided on a film to watch. curtesy of poppy's choice it was settled you were watching luca. which you knew she had only picked for one reason.
“can we please skip to the silenzio bruno part?” poppy asked looking up at both you and lia as she was tucked up in between the two of you in her princess pyjamas.
“pops, we gotta watch it from the start!” lia smiled moving the loose hairs out from the front of her face as poppy mumbled a fine.
lia looked over and smiled over at you, as you moved a little closer to lia resting your head on her shoulder as she played with your hair. your breathing slowing out as you felt your body begin to relax.
by the time the film actually got to the part poppy wanted it at she had fallen asleep, soft snores coming from the four year olds lips. “i’ll go and take her up” you said as lia nodded as she kissed your cheek before you moved.
lifting poppy up carefully along with her little stuffed toy that she had took attached to her all evening, and carefully retreating to the spare bedroom where you had set up made the bed for poppy - putting two pillows at either side to make sure she didn’t fall out of the bed during the night.
tucking the little girl in with her teddy and blanket before kissing the top of her head and leaving the little night light on that your brother said she slept with on when she was at home before moving towards the door as closing it a little bit.
quickly going back down the stairs to where lia was, and walking into the living room to see that the swiss had not moved a muscle as she scrolled through her phone that was in her hand.
crashing on top of the swiss with a big sigh as she groaned, luckily being able to move her phone out the way quick enough to avoid it hitting her in the face.
“who would have thought looking after a four year old would be so tiring” you mumbled into her chest as your eyes felt heavy with tiredness.
“basically a full time job, baby” lia whispered as she giggled a little as you felt the vibrations of lia’s laugh from her chest.
you sat up, straddling lia as her hands found your waist, travelling a little up the back of your hoodie tracing small circles in your lower back. “i can’t wait until that us with our own little baby” lia said, at your eyes widened and lia began to back peddle. “no- no that- i” her face full of worry, scared that she had said the wrong thing.
you cut lia off by kissing her, smiling into the kiss as you hands went to the back of her neck. the kiss was pure and full of love and reassurance, pulling away after a few minutes, pecking her lips a few more times before lingering close to lia’s face smiling big as her face was now relaxed.
“i can’t wait to start a family with you either”
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boowritess · 2 days
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very mild 18+ simon riley x reader
lmaoo i can't breathe Simon Riley is just a man.
atleast to you.
when he's home, all he is to you is dry humor, a couple beers every night, sat in front of the tv on his spot on the couch, the game is playing - some soccor or rugby match. he doesn't wear his mask, his clothes are a simple t-shirt and some pair of shorts he just threw on.
he uses your shampoo and conditioner, as much as it pisses you off because it's expensive and for some reason he uses half the fucking bottle everytime he's home, but when he does the groceries he still comes home with '2 in 1 shampoo and conditioner' he would’ve got the '3 in 1' but the last time he did that he got no head for 3 weeks.
he'll go to the pub, take you out, pushes the trolley, holds your bag, let's you dress how you want it, belly gets a little soft because he eats food like he's never ate before, buy you anything you want even after the 'do you really need it though?' talk.
he's bit lazy on workouts only goes on the occasional run, but will fuck you whenever you want; always vanilla and only gets rough when you ask.
he will say he'll fix whatever appliance needs tending too but won't do it right away, starts the occasional handyman job at odd times.
it's just - he's so mundane and normal that you'd never know just how dangerous he is ???? like he so carefully hides that side from you. seriously. when he's home, he throws his gear in the bottom of his closet in a box, locking Ghost away and just existing as Simon.
even when the rest of the task force come around on the occasion. they're so normal and are just... men. yelling at the tv during a sport match. teasing each other. stealing snacks and helping with cleaning. they never speak about work and when you ask them, it's always a smile and shrug, "just another day really." "little boring and slow." "oh not too bad." their answers are so half-assed, that you don't even ask anymore; which is what they want.
but you really aren't missing anything. not when you don't even know what you're missing out on.
it's crazy, because he even keeps Ghost hidden when you're being harassed by men. whether that be when you're shopping or just going for a walk.
he'll loop an arm around your waist or over your shoulder, look at the guy with a grin - that's more of a sneer, "can i help you, mate?" he'll drawl. his stature and stare is enough to make the man who had been harassing you back off.
"what a freak..." you mutter with a roll of your eyes, letting Simon guide you away as he presses a kiss to your temple, a deep chuckle leaving him.
around midnight you wake up to Simon in the laundry room washing his hands. he doesn't blink or hesitate when you wonder in and wrap your arms around his waist. "what're you doing?" you mumble, sleepy eyss dropping to the sink.
Simon's hands are red, and you would be alarmed, should be alarmed. but how could you when Simon hums softly, a sound that rumbles deep from his throat, leaning down to press a kiss to the top of your head. he's so warm and casual that you don't even do a touble take seeing the blood.
"caught a rat. right pest they are. the trap i set snapped it clean in half." Simon's mutters, he raises a bloodied hand to you, sniggering when you crinkle your nose up in disgust and step away from him.
"ew, i'm going back to bed." you huff, yawning and leaving him to what he was doing.
Simon laughs softly as you head off. "just be a sec, love." he says as you go. all he receives is a yawn and a tired 'mhm'.
he cleans his hands and then his phone chimes. he pulls it out and it's a private message.
'getting rid of your pest now, LT.'
image attached
Simon opens the picture and sure enough there's the man from earlier in the boot of a car. all bloodied like Ghost left him.
Simon heads back upstairs to your shared room, you quietly snoozing away. you don't steer or wake as the closet door opens and Simon's putting his mask back in with his gear. No. Ghost is too quiet to let you wake from such a warm and sweet sleep.
he turns from the closet after putting everything away and changing clothes. he crawls into his side of the bed and wraps his arms around you. letting your body nestle back into his side. limbs tangling together.
just you and your simon.
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a/n: inspired by a tik tok video on how he is just a man lmaooo
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✨ Behind (Not So) Closed Doors✨
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As promised, here’s a little story of the one prompt I got a little bit ago! Literally no one voted ‘no’ on the poll for this story and I think that’s hysterical, bunch of thirsty mfs (affectionate 💖)
Lucifer x f!sinner reader
Summary: You catch Lucifer acting out on his most carnal desires…
Warnings: 18+, smut, masturbation, voyeurism, fingering, hand job, (oral m & f receiving), p in v
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You remember first meeting the King of Hell on the day you checked yourself into the Hazbin Hotel. And you remember thinking that Lucifer looked nothing like you had pictured. Of course he was beautiful, that wasn’t shocking, but he was so…unimposing. Not only that, but he was also kind, albeit a bit dorky as well. Not that it was off putting to you, it was endearing if anything!
Although, you hadn’t spoken to him all that much since the time you’d moved in. Lucifer seemed so nonchalant and relaxed with everyone else in the hotel, save for Alastor, who you noticed always managed to get under the fallen angel’s skin one way or another. Even you knew the radio demon was playing with fire; probably wasn’t the smartest idea to piss off the most powerful being in Hell. Regardless, how he acted around you was a little odd to say the least. It seemed like Lucifer was always trying to avoid you for some unknown reason. Did he not like you?
When you had first spoken to him all those months ago, you could tell he was tense. He rambled, a lot. And he somehow managed to fumble every other word that left his mouth. He quickly left after your initial meeting, and ever since then it had been nearly impossible to get in more than five words at a time. He had an impossibly perfect disappearing act, what with his portaging abilities. One time you greeted him from across the lobby and his only response was “O-Oh! H-Hey you! Uhh, I just, umm…welp, gotta run!” and took off before you could even say goodbye. Truly bizarre.
You eventually went to Charlie, telling her that her dad was seemingly very distant towards you. “Oh, don’t worry about that!” Charlie explained. “He’s a pretty busy guy, so he’s usually popping in and out of here pretty frequently. And he’s told me on multiple occasions that he’s glad you joined the hotel! He can come off as a bit scatterbrained, but rest assured he’s more than happy to have you here! And so am I!”
You smiled and thanked her. From the few months that you’ve known her, Charlie was never one to lie, so you decided to take her words at face value. For now, at least. For some reason, you still couldn’t shake the feeling that something was up with Lucifer. You needed to find out.
A few nights had passed and you found yourself wandering through the lobby. The black nightgown you typically wore to bed didn't provide nearly enough heat, but you didn't want to change back into your normal day clothes either. So, you threw on your favorite pink robe before you left your room, it was more than enough to keep you comfortable. It was late, way later than you should have been awake. Even Husk was asleep, the bar sat devoid of any life. It was difficult to sleep most nights, you were still grappling with the fact that you were, in fact, in Hell. You thought you were a decent person in life. Never religious but you tried your best to while you were alive. But that didn’t seem to matter. Perhaps you should have attended church with your family more often, or donated to more charities, or not cut that one person off at that traffic light. Lying awake in your bed didn’t help these thoughts but getting up and walking around usually helped just a tad.
You glanced over to the fireplace, noticing the flames dancing against the walls. That was strange, considering no one ever used the fireplace, or at least not that you’ve seen. But then you noticed one of the large chairs in front of it wasn’t empty. A white sleeve laid across the arm rest. You walked over out of pure curiosity, just to see who was awake at this ungodly hour like you. You craned your neck to see Lucifer sitting there frozen, his head down and eyes closed with his free hand pinching the bridge of his nose. He looked troubled. Before you could speak up, you heard him mumble under his breath.
“What the hell am I going to do…”
Worried, you outstretched your hand, but stopped short of touching his arm. “Sir?”
Lucifer’s eyes shot open instantly, turning his head to see you towering over him. He leapt from his chair completely startled and began stumbling backwards towards the fire pit.
“Watch out!” you warned, gripping his hand, and pulling him towards you. Lucifer held his breath, trying to process what had just happened. His head ended up flush against your chest, your face now feeling as hot as the flames in the pit. You let go of his hand and stepped away from him as fast as you could. Lucifer remained motionless. “I-I’m so sorry, your majesty! I didn’t mean for you to…I’m sorry!”
You finally heard Lucifer exhale. He stood up straight and fixed his wrinkled jacket, making every effort to not look you in the eyes.
“It’s alright, m-my dear,” he spoke softly, “no harm done. A-And please, call me Lucifer.”
“Okay. Lucifer,” you started, “I didn’t mean to startle you. I saw you over here and I heard what you said and…is everything alright?”
Lucifer was tense again. You noticed him clench his fists. “How much did you hear?”
“Not much,” you admitted. “you just sounded worried about something.”
The king let out a sigh, letting his hands relax. “Thank you for your concern, I-I appreciate it. It’s nothing…nothing that you need to trouble yourself with. It’ll be fine.” Lucifer waved his hand, a portal now swirling open behind him, leading to his bedroom. “I think we should both get some sleep now. And t-thank you for catching me. Although, fire can’t harm me…b-but I appreciate the rescue nonetheless!” He was about to step through the portal when you caught his hand once more.
“Wait,” you said quietly. Lucifer looked down at the ground, still refusing to meet your gaze. You frowned. “Sir-I mean Lucifer…I wanted to ask you something. I need to know.” You felt his hand squeeze yours; he was tense again. “I-I’ve been feeling like I’m not welcome here by you.” Lucifer finally lifted his head, his eyes almost piercing your soul. He looked distraught at your words. You never noticed how beautiful his eyes truly were, the soft yellow complimented his pure white skin nicely. You blushed slightly but shook your head and tried to remember what you were saying. “I-I just mean, you seem to avoid me every time I’m near. If I’ve done something to upset you, I’m very sorry. And if you’d rather I’d not stay here, then…”
“NO!” he shouted, now gripping your hand with both of his. “I-I mean, no. You haven’t done anything wrong! Please…Please don’t leave. I should be the one apologizing if that’s truly how you’ve been feeling. I never want you to feel unwelcome here, especially not from me. It…It’s just that…I…” Before he could finish his explanation, his eyes dropped for just a split second before returning to yours. His gaze had somehow shifted into a more panicked expression. He let go of your hands immediately and stepped through his portal in a hurry. “I-I have to go, I’m sorry!” You couldn’t get another word out before his portal disappeared from view.
You stood alone in the parlor, alone and confused. The fire had died out, and you felt a shiver down your spine at the realization of how cold it had gotten without it. But you couldn’t let the conversation end there. You needed to know what was going on with him. You wouldn’t sleep until you did. Luckily, Lucifer’s room at the hotel was very easy to find.
You made your way up to his tower, replaying the scene in the lobby over and over in your head. Things were going well, weren’t they? He seemed so apologetic when you told him how you felt. And then he just…disappeared like he always does. You really didn’t mean to push the issue, but maybe you came on a little strong. Plus, your rescue of him was a little more than awkward. Not that you minded the closeness, even if it was fleeting. The picture of his head resting against your chest flashed in your mind repeatedly. You could feel the heat rise to your cheeks once more now that you were now mere steps from Lucifer’s door.
Focus, you mentally scolded yourself, can’t think about that. It was an accident! It won’t happen again so just…focus. No wonder he ran!
You stood in front of his door now, your knees somehow weaker than they were a moment ago. Those mental images really didn’t help at all. With a deep inhale, you went to knock, but you stopped short when you heard something from beyond the door. You heard your name.
What?, you thought, How…How did he know I was here? Lucifer didn’t sound angry fortunately, but the inflection in his voice made him sound almost sad. And…breathless? You cracked open the door slowly, a little embarrassed at being caught. You went to open your mouth to apologize for the intrusion, but not even a whisper left your lips. Because what you saw in that room left you completely and utterly frozen where you stood.
Lucifer, the great ruler of Hell, was propped up against the obscene amount of pillows on his bed with his pants pooled at his ankles, his very much erect dick in his hand. His eyes were shut, he hadn’t seen you catch him in this extremely vulnerable state.
Run, run, run, RUN! your mind screamed. Everything in your brain was telling you to shut that door and get out of there as fast as you could. But your body refused to react, you remained motionless. You were completely entranced by the scene before you. You watched as Lucifer stroked his cock, mumbling a number of curse words with your name leaving his lips like a prayer.
“Hnng, G-God damn it-ffffuuuccckk….” Lucifer mumbled, his hand gradually picking up the pace as he stroked his shaft.
You tried to wrap your head around what you were seeing, but you were coming up blank. You couldn't believe this. He’s…He’s touching himself…to me?!? How is this…? Why would he…? Your brain was a jumbled mess at this point. It was really beyond your comprehension. You felt tension pool in your stomach at the sight of him becoming undone at the mere thought of you. The sinful sounds he was making went straight between your thighs, to the point where it became uncomfortable that you weren’t giving yourself any attention. The tiniest bit of you wanted to push open that door and give him what he really desired. But before you even begin to think about acting on your carnal instincts, you watched Lucifer's hips bucked up as he came all over his hand. It took every fiber of your being to hold in a whimper that threatened to escape your throat.
Lucifer’s breathing was labored, you watched him toss his arm over his eyes and throw his head back on the pillows. "What the hell is wrong with me?!" you heard him ask. "Why am I doing this?! It’s been months now and I’ve barely had a normal conversation with her! And of course, the only time I’ve really talked to her was after my damn head was forced against her…her…s-shit.” He waved his hand, a tissue appearing between his fingers. You watched as he cleaned himself up, thankful that he still hadn’t looked towards his door. Lucifer kicked himself out of his pant and swung his legs over the side of the bed, his head hanging low. “And what an absolutely fantastic exit I made! “Sorry, gotta go! My dick is hard as a rock right now because of you!” Great job, Lucifer! No wonder she thinks I don’t want her here!” He sighed heavily. “I can’t do this anymore. This isn’t right. I need to stop being a coward and just tell her how she makes me feel…”
A small gasp escaped your lips.
Fuck.
Lucifer's head shot up immediately, his panicked eyes fixating on the door. You didn't even close it behind you as you took off sprinting down the hall, praying to anyone who could hear you that he didn't see you. You didn’t stop running until you made it back to your room, slamming the door behind you. Your knees gave out from under you as you dropped to the floor. In that second, it all clicked for you. Why Lucifer avoided you at every turn, why he tripped over his words when he spoke to you, and why he practically begged you not to leave the hotel.
Lucifer liked you. Lucifer really liked you. That thought alone could have made you scream if you weren’t trying desperately to hold yourself together. And it’s not like you didn’t have passing thoughts about him. He was gorgeous after all. But not only that, you saw how he acted with the others at the hotel. He was sweet, and silly, and fun, even though you never got to experience it firsthand. Now you knew where Charlie had gotten it from.
But of course, those thoughts never stayed. He didn’t like you, right? So instead of wallowing in what could never be, you thought it best not to dwell. But now…now those thoughts were coming back in full force. The aching between your legs only grew as the very fresh images of Lucifer naked and moaning in his bed flooded your mind.
There was a knock at the door.
“H-Hey,” you heard Lucifer’s voice on the other side, “it’s me. Can we talk?”
You didn’t dare move. You hid your head in your lap, pleading silently that he would give up and go away.
You heard him sigh. “I can see your shadow, you know.”
God damn it…
Slowly you rose from the floor, your trembling hand latching onto the doorknob. But your brain wouldn’t let you turn it no matter how hard you tried. How could you possibly face him after what you saw?
“Please?…”
The way he sounded so desperate; it was impossible not to give in. With a heavy sigh, the doorknob turned and you cracked open the door just enough to see Lucifer standing just outside, his glassy eyes looking into yours. You looked away immediately.
“Hi…” you whispered staring down at the ground.
He lowered himself in an attempt to get you to look at him again. “Can I come in?”
You nodded, opening the door inch by inch until he was able to step inside. You shut the door behind him, folding your arms over your body. You still hadn’t looked at him. The silence between you two was deafening, but you knew he wasn’t going to leave until you talked.
“I’m so sorry!” you both shouted simultaneously. “Wait, what?”
"Hold on now!" Lucifer interjected, "You have nothing to apologize for!"
"Of course I do!" you retorted. "I invaded your privacy when I watched...uhh, n-never mind." When you glanced in his direction, his entire face almost matched the pink circles on his cheeks. You couldn't bring yourself to look at him any longer. "I-It was an accident! I came up to apologize for scaring you off again. But...I heard you call my name a-and I just assumed you already knew I was outside, so I opened the door and...I'm so sorry, I should have knocked, and I should have left immediately…I-"
You didn't notice Lucifer make his way towards you, throwing his hands onto your shoulders and snapping you out of your spiral. "Hey, no more of that," he soothed. "I'm not angry, and I didn't come here to scold you. This is all on me."
You felt tears begin to well up in your eyes. "B-But..."
"My dear, this is my fault, not yours," Lucifer cut you off, bringing his thumb up to cheek to wipe a tear that had fallen. He realized how close he'd gotten to you in his attempt to calm you down. Flustered, he stepped back, folding his arms over his chest. You already missed the closeness. "If you'd let me, I'd like to apologize and, you know, at least attempt to explain myself. Not that what happened was excusable. But if you'd rather I leave now, I'd more than understand. And I don't expect your forgiveness. I...just thought it best to apologize to you directly instead of continuing to avoid you and pretending like nothing happened. I'm deeply and truly sorry for everything."
You felt the sincerity in his words, and you saw the pain in his face thinking he had hurt you. You couldn't let him leave. Not yet.
"Stay...please..." you managed to respond. You made your way over to your bed and gestured for him to follow. You sat down crossed legged near the edge of the bed, Lucifer mirroring your actions. You took a deep breath before speaking once more. "I'm not angry with you either, you know."
A strange mixture shock and confusion flashed across Lucifer's face. "Y-You're not?"
You smiled wearily. "No, I promise. I mean, I'm a little taken aback..." Lucifer winced. "...but not in a bad way! If anything, I feel...flattered, you know?" Your face burned at your own candor. A quick glance at him showed he felt the same heat in his own cheeks.
"R-Regardless," Lucifer cleared his throat, "it was still wrong of me. I could try to give excuses about...my ex-wife being gone for more than 7 years now, or tell you that watching you from afar just sparked something in me that I hadn't felt in God know how long, or..."
"You've been watching me?" you teased, flashing him a small grin.
"Shhhhit, well, I uhh...only sometimes!" Lucifer tried to reason. "A-And not for very long! I just, umm, I just noticed how kind you are with everyone you come into contact with, and you're extremely helpful when it comes to the hotel! And your smile...I MEAN, uhh, C-Charlie absolutely adores you with the way she goes on and on about your progress! We both wonder how you even ended up down here in the first place. And well, you...you're," he gulped, "you're the most beautiful creature I've ever laid my eyes on..."
You sat there frozen, your body trembling slightly. Your mind raced a million miles a minute. You tried to get your mouth so form any sort of words, but nothing. Lucifer started to panic.
"I-I'm sorry! That was really forward of me! I shouldn't have-I uhh...God, this is the worst fucking apology imaginable!" Lucifer brought his hands to his face, covering his eyes and lowering his head. "Maybe it would be best if I just g-MMPH!"
You don't know what came over you, but somehow your lips crashed into Lucifer's. His hands flew from his face, now gripping the bed sheets beneath him. He sat perfectly still, but only for a moment. He couldn't help but give into you, letting his eyelids flutter closed and melting under the kiss. You pulled away after only a few seconds, Lucifer leaning his head forward slightly, still needing more. His crimson irises had grown into saucers, his face hot as the sun. Having the literal King of Hell flustered beyond belief from a single kiss was a sight you absolutely wanted to see more of.
"If you think I'm beautiful, then you are someone who is beyond beauty, your majesty," you cooed. You weren't completely sure where this sudden burst of boldness had sprung from, but you liked it. And from what you were witnessing, all signs pointed to Lucifer being completely enamored with it as well.
You went back to your seated position, but now Lucifer was on all fours, crawling ever so slowly towards you. "P-Please..." he begged, "I-I need more..." His face was now mere inches away. He rested his forehead on yours, waiting for your lips to touch his again. The faint smell of apples that hugged his skin was intoxicating.
"You want me to kiss you again?" you asked playfully. "Then you need to tell me something, darling."
Lucifer's breathing had picked up at the sound the pet name you'd given him, his eyes screwed shut. "A-Anything!"
"Tell me then," you said as you began to stroke his soft blond hair, "what were you thinking about when you were touching yourself to me?"
Lucifer whimpered against you. "Anything but that! Please! I-I can't..."
You pulled your forehead away from his, still patting his hair. "I think it's a little too late to be shy now, my king."
A low moan escaped Lucifer's throat as he inched towards you once again. "I...I was thinking...about how wonderful you would taste on my tongue...." He pressed a kiss to your forehead. "I was thinking about how...how pretty your lips would look around my cock." A kiss to your left cheek. "I was thinking about watching you...fuck...watching you ride my cock until I have nothing left in me." A kiss to your right cheek. "But mostly...I was thinking about how badly I want you to be mine..."
Your lips met once more, and with even more vigor than before. His devilish tongue swiped against your bottom lip, begging to delve in further. When your lips parted, your tongues had clashed with such voracity that it had knocked you down onto you bed, Lucifer now completely overtaking you. His hand found the back of your head and pulled you closer into the kiss which you didn't even think possible. With his body completely flat on top of you and even through your robe, it didn't take long for you to notice a certain bulge pressing against your stomach. You chuckled lightly, causing Lucifer to pull away, knowing exactly what you had felt.
"Ha...sorry...my uhh, my body has a mind of its own," he laughed nervously. "If this is too much for you, w-we can slow down. Or just stop completely! It's...It's been a while for me a-and I don't want you to be uncomfortable..."
You placed your hand on his shoulder and gently guided him off of you, putting him on his knees. In an instant, you tossed your robe to the side, revealing your cute black nightgown that left very little to the imagination. Lucifer sucked in a breath as he frantically started shedding his own clothes as well, removing his jacket and dress shirt in a manner that really emphasized his desperation for you. You couldn't help but stare at his bare chest and how it almost glistened in the faint lighting of your room.
"Do you think you're the only one who's body is reacting to this?" You shoved him down gently onto his back, his head now resting against your pillows. "But instead of just telling you, why don't you see for yourself?" You crawled up his body, dragging yourself against home until you straddled his chest.
"Oh, fuck me..." Lucifer almost inaudibly. He snaked his hands up the skirt of your nightgown until his hands reached them hem of your panties. He looked up at you expectantly, and with a final nod from you, you felt him tug your underwear down your legs. He pulled them down slowly, lifting one leg out first and kicking them off with the other. You gazed at him seductively, your glistening entrance now mere inches away from waiting lips. Lucifer's hands grazed up your thighs before stopping just before where you needed him most. Lucifer's breath hitched.
"It's alright," you reassured him. "Touch me. Please, Lucifer..."
"Ahh, wait!" Lucifer stopped his movements entirely. With a quick snap of his fingers, you heard your door lock itself. "We don't want another incident now, do we?"
You couldn't help but roll your eyes at his theatrics, but it made you giggle, nonetheless. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say you're stalling!"
Lucifer laughed. "My sweet angel, if you've learned anything about me in last few minutes, it's that I couldn't wait another second longer for you even if I tried."
With those words, you felt his fingers finally find their way to your folds. It was like an electric shock had coursed through your entire body when he touched you. He'd barely begun and you were already soaking wet. His thumb found your clit instantly as he began to rub small circles around it, sending wave after wave of pleasure. You lifted your hips slightly so his figures could push their way inside of you. Words couldn't begin to describe how good he felt. He told you himself that it had been some time since he'd been with anyone, but there was no indication of this being the case as his two digits pumped in and out of you at a steady pace. He knew exactly what he was doing. You whimpered when you felt him pull his fingers out of you, only to watch him dip them into his mouth, cleaning off your slick entirely. "God, you're more delectable than I could have ever imagined! Please, let me taste you, all of you..."You blushed hard and nodded. You scooted yourself up further, hovering directly over his lips. "Still too far..." you heard him say before his hands latched onto your hips and forced you down so you were seated firmly on his face.
"L-Lucifer!" you cried weakly, trying to pull yourself up. You knew it was futile though. Damn him and his angelic strength.
"You won't hurt me, darling, I promise," he said with a wink. "Besides, breathing is overrated..." You felt his forked tongue immediately dart in and out of your drenched pussy. Your broken moans filled the room as he ate you out like it was his last meal. Lucifer switched between tongue fucking you and sucking on your sensitive nub at a relentless pace. That coil in your stomach was tightening with each movement he made.
"Lu-Luci-fer, o-oh my God, f-fuck, I-I can't." You tripped over every other word that left your lips. Your body started to tremble and your thighs shook violently as you felt your impending orgasm. "I-I'm gonna c-cum, gonna cum, oh SSHHHIIIIITTT-FUCKFUCKFUCK C-CUMMING!" You cried out helplessly as you felt your walls clench around nothing, your juices spilling out onto Lucifer's more than eager tongue. He rode you through your orgasm, lapping you up and not wanting to waste a single drop. You felt him release his hold on your hips so you could at last move back down to his chest. You stared at him wide eyed as he looked back at you with the biggest smile you've ever seen. You felt the heat rise up your neck and cheeks as you watched him lick up the rest of your release that hung on his chin.
"W-Wow, that was...fuck, that was amazing," Lucifer sighed. "Are you alright?"
"I-I'm fine," you breathed, "more than fine. You...really know how to use that tongue of yours." Lucifer flashed you a toothy grin like he had just told you the worst joke imaginable. You wanted to hide your face but damn it, he was too adorable when he looked at you like that!
"Well, you got your first wish. Allow me to grant your next one..." You shimmied down his body until your face lingered above the very obvious strain in his pants. "Let's make you more comfortable shall we?" You unhooked his belt in mere seconds, his pants following soon behind, leaving him in nothing but his briefs that already had a large wet spot in the front.
Lucifer managed to prop himself up on his forearms, his blush spreading to his entire face. "Sweetheart, y-you don't have to do that, I'm fiii-iiiiii-oooh fffffuck..." Lucifer's protest were cut short when you had brought your hand up to palm his very apparent erection through his shorts.
"Now that's hardly fair, Luci," you scolded him, "I think I deserve my fill too, don't you?" Before Lucifer could choke out an answer, you hooked your fingers along his waistband and pulled his briefs all the way down his legs, freeing his painfully hard cock at last. You stopped for a moment to marvel at his length, having to stop yourself from drooling. "O-oh wow, that's umm...that's big..."
Lucifer chuckled nervously above you. "Y-Yeah, sorry about that. I think? Like I said, y-you don't have to-GAAHHH!" Without warning, you delicately gripped Lucifer's shaft, stroking it lethargically. Even though you were moving as slow as possible, the king was already a moaning mess. "S-Shit, you-fuck...feels so good..."
"Is this what you imagined, your highness?" you cooed, now rubbing your cheek against his cock in tandem with your hand. "I wanted to help you out earlier, you know that? When I saw you stroking yourself, I almost pushed opened that door so I could give you what you really wanted. But hey, better late than never!" You chuckled lightly as you licked up his shaft to the very sensitive head of his cock. The taste of his precum was addicting, you craved more. Lucifer writhed under your touch as his whimpers became music to your ears. You circled your tongue around the tip, earning a guttural moan from the man beneath you. You glanced up and noticed Lucifer's eyes were squeezed tight, with his claws digging into your sheets.
"Look at me," you ordered him while you continued to pump his cock. His chest rose and fell faster and faster as he forced his eyes open. "Good boy. I want you to keep your eyes on me." You smiled at him wickedly as you parted your lips and sunk down on his shaft.
"A-AHHH, OOOH FUCK!," Lucifer yelped as he fought against throwing his head back in pure bliss. Your warm mouth enveloped him, the taste of him was nothing short of divine. Your head continue you bob up and down, taking as much of him as you could. Lucifer was a blabbering mess, only able to make incoherent noises. His ability to think had all but disappeared. All he could focus on was the immense pleasure your sinful tongue was providing. His breaths became shallow as your mouth lingered on his cock, refusing to move.
"I-I ca-FUCK...H-HOLY SHIT," Lucifer nearly screamed, his hips now bucking up uncontrollably, forcing you to take more and more of him. "CU-CUMMING, CUMMING...MMPH OHFUCKME!" With one final thrust, you felt his cock twitch, his hot seed filling your mouth. You sucked him off through his orgasm, taking in and swallowing every bit of cum he had. Once he'd finished, you finally let go with a small *pop*. You made your way up his body once more and hovered over his face with a giant grin. You opened your mouth to show him some cum you still had on your tongue before swallowing it down gleefully.
Lucifer's hands flew to his face immediately upon watching you. "I can't believe you just did that! How am I ever going to recover?!"
You laughed as you pulled his hands away from his face, leaning down to kiss him tenderly. He happily returned your kiss, his thumbs rubbing circles on your hips under your nightgown. Lucifer leaned his head back on the pillows and tugged at the hem. "May I?"
"Of course," you nodded. He helped raise your nightgown, lifting it up and easily tossing it over your head and onto the floor. You sat up straight, straddling his stomach and giving him a very nice view of your breasts. "I know you've already felt them once tonight, but I'll let you touch them again if you ask nicely."
"Oh, ha ha," Lucifer mocked playfully, "very funny. That was technically your fault! I didn't just lay on your chest for fun, you forced me there when you pulled me away from the fire!"
You smirked and took ahold of his wrists. "Do you want to touch my tits or not?"
"...Yes, please..."
Smiling, you brought his hands to your breasts. A soft hum emitted from both of you as Lucifer began to knead at your soft mounds, his thumbs running over your sensitive nipples. Suddenly, he started to roll them between his thumb and index fingers, causing you to squeak in surprise. He sat up quickly, pushing you back so that you were now kneeling on the bed and hovering over his thighs. He took one nipple into his mouth as he continued his ministrations on the other. You moaned at the sensation, taking your hand and holding the back of his head for support. He switched sides, making sure your other nipple got the same amount of attention. The feeling of his teeth grazing you nipple sent shivers down your spine.
"Luci," you whispered into his ear. "you had one more fantasy you told me about, did you not?" Lucifer pulled away from your breasts, his eyes wide and full of anxiety. You could feel his heartbeat racing as he buried his face in the crook of your neck.
"O-Only if you want to," his muffled voice reverberated off your skin.
"Yes, I do." You pushed Lucifer back down gently, noticing his cock was already hard again even without any further stimulation. "My, my, eager are we?"
"Very much so, yes," Lucifer whined.
"You're adorable, you know that?" you praised. Lucifer blushed hard and tried to cover his face once more before you pinned his hands above his head. "Don't you dare hide that pretty face from me, sweetheart. I want to see every single little cute expression you make once you're inside me." A small whimper left his mouth as you released your grip on his hands. You shifted yourself in order to line up your entrance with the tip of his cock, slowly rubbing it between your slick folds. "Are you ready?"
Lucifer gasped and threw his head back in response. "Y-Yes, please...need you...need to feel you..."
You began to sink down on his length, feeling him stretch you out beyond what you ever felt before. A beautiful mix of pain and pleasure coursed through you as you finally bottomed out on his cock, both of your moans echoing off the walls. Tears pricked your eyes as he filled you completely, as if you felt whole, now connected as one. You shifted your hips ever so slightly, but it was enough for Lucifer sit himself upwards and wrap his arms around you in a tight embrace.
"You really f-feel like heaven," Lucifer breathed. "P-Please...please say you'll be mine..."
A single tear drifted down your face, and your heart was threatening to burst out of your chest at any moment. You eagerly returned his embrace, wrapping your arms around him and bringing him as close to you as you possibly could. “I’m yours, Lucifer.” You cupped his face in your hands and brough your lips to his, sealing your promise. Feeling him twitch inside of you, you lifted your body off of him and gently sank back down. You swallowed Lucifer's moans as you continued your pace, bucking your hips and taking all of him with each sharp thrust. Lucifer's hands flew to your hips as he helped you up and down his aching cock.
"F-Fuck, y-you're killing me here, darling, I-HNNG...I'm close..." Lucifer sobbed was your pace became relentless. His hips were now rutting into you as he slammed you down onto him. Your eyes had crossed and drool began to pour down the side of your lips. You were absolutely and unashamedly cock drunk. The tightening in your stomach became almost unbearable, your release was fast approaching and so was his. "FFFFUUUUCCKK, g-gonna cum, g-gonna-ACK, c-can I?..."
"Inside L-Luci," you pleaded, "inside...fill me n-now-GAH F-FUCK, C-CUMMING!" Your walls clenched around his thick cock, pulsating relentlessly as Lucifer continued to pound into you making your vision blur. Your cries mixed with his as you felt him empty inside of you. The grip you had on him loosened as his wings suddenly sprouted out from behind him, catching you by surprise. Lucifer didn't seem to notice, too overtaken by his orgasm. He bit down on your shoulder harshly to keep himself from screaming while his hot seed continued to pour into you. Your muscles finally relaxed as you both came down from your highs. Lucifer's tongue lapped at the mark he had left on you, soothing the sore spot. But now that he'd given you your first mark, all you wanted to do was beg for more.
"S-Sorry about that," he smiled sheepishly. "I didn't mean to bite you so hard." He turned his head, finally noticing his ruffled wings. "O-Oh! Well...that's new."
You chuckled. "Your wings are beautiful, Lucifer." You ran your fingers over a few of his scarlet feathers; they were the softest things you've ever felt. His wing folded towards your touch, now almost fully engulfing the two of you. "Wait, are you apologizing for marking me? I'm yours, am I not? Now I have proof!"
Lucifer buried his face in your chest. "L-Love, you can't say things like that! You're gonna drive me insane!"
"Love?" you repeated.
He shot his head up in a panic. "I-uhh...is that okay?"
You kissed his lips tenderly. "It's more than okay, love."
You watched his wings puff up at your words, his smile wider than you've ever seen before. You then carefully pulled yourself from his lap and laid down ever so gently on his one set of wings while the other set wrapped around your body. Lucifer wrapped his arms around you once again, now feeling a double layer of protection and comfort.
"Thank you," he murmured against your ear.
"No, thank you," you whispered back. "It was wonderful, truly. And at least now I can stop worrying about whether or not you hate me!"
You heard a small hum leave Lucifer's lips. "That couldn't be further from the truth, my dearest." A placed a small peck to your forehead. "Do you...mind if I stay here tonight?"
You shook your head. "I wouldn't let you leave even if you wanted to," you teased. "You're mine now too." Fatigue flooded your body as you yawned and felt your eyelids fall. You snuggled your head against Lucifer's chest before unconsciousness had taken over.
"Forever," was the last thing you heard before drifting off to sleep in Lucifer's arms.
~~~
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WHY THIS ENDED UP BEING SO LONG IS BEYOND ME, HOPE YOU LIKE IT ANYWAYS!
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