#fucking hell. in the time it's taken for me to write this I've gone from no pain to my eye & temple feeling like small explosions happening
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Cool cool cool cool this is great and definitely totally fine 🙃
#I'm getting a migraine like. it's gonna happen but the pain hasn't hit me bad yet#still in the prodrome phase#i just clicked a video here and like 2-3 seconds in ~rapid flashing bright lights!~#i have auto play disabled for this very reason as well as having so many phrases and tags filtered (flashing flickering strobing etc)#i have a doctor's appointment later and i have to drive myself there (no public transportation)#fucking hell. in the time it's taken for me to write this I've gone from no pain to my eye & temple feeling like small explosions happening#it's an optometrist appointment 🙃🙃🙃🙃 I'm super looking forward to the bright lights shone directly into my torment orbs#ignore me i just needed to rant for a sec
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Hi! I don't know if you write for Adam, but this man has me in an unholy choke hold and I've literally read through all the Adam fics on this site already. I am begging, on my hands and knees, for you to please write an Adam x female reader smut oneshot. Literally anything you want.
I absolutely loved your Lucifer close proximity fic btw!! You're writing is literally insane and I just know you'd do Adam's character justice!
Thank youuuu
Thank you!! Sorry this is coming out so long after you sent it in, but hope you guys enjoy!
Also to other ppl reading this! I've seen your lovely messages in my inbox and I 100% intend on responding to them I'm just swamped with Uni work at the moment. But thank you all so much!!
This is literally pure smut btw, minors DNI!! Adam is very Adam in this. Lmk what you guys think I love to hear your thoughts! Especially because Adam is so hard to write!
Tag list - @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx
Adam x f!reader - After a Shitty Meeting with the Blond Short-Stack
To put it bluntly, Adam had had a particularly shitty day, and that was saying a lot considering there were absolutely no bad days in heaven. This day, however, had seemed to drag on for an eternity, and by the end of it he felt like punching a whole through every window that he walked past on his way home from work, having to walk instead of fly because he was too furious to trust his wings not to give out on him if he became too lost in thought.
To summarise, he had had to meet Lucifer today, the pompous, prideful, wife-stealing piece of short-blonde-shit that lorded about Hell as if he wasn’t banished there purposefully for his sins. The meeting wasn’t in person, with him attending from Heaven and Lucifer attending from Hell, but simply being within any sort of presence of the blond gnome had his blood boiling and his fingers itching to grab the nearest weapon and shove it through his chest. And today, well, Lucifer had gone too far.
Sure, Adam may have started it with some comment about Lucifer’s daughters failing redemption-business, and how the timer was ticking until the upcoming extermination, but really, who was Lucifer to dare let your name spill from his lips? In a mockery of your and Adam’s relationship no less.
That self-entitled little shit-eating smirk had graced Lucifer’s ridiculously rosy cheeks, and he had dared insinuate he could steal you right from under Adam’s nose the next time you went down to Hell, just like his two previous wives. He was thankful for his mask which had concealed the utter shock-horror that had overtaken his features at the insult, but he also wished Lucifer would have seen his absolute unbridled hatred once he had rebounded from the insult: if looks could have killed, Lucifer would have been incinerated on the spot. The comment had riled Adam up so much that Lute had had to step in to steer the meeting back on track, and it had taken all of his self-control, and Lute’s, to stop him from immediately teleporting down to Hell and blasting Lucifer to whatever the fuck came after Hell. He grumbles to himself angrily, hand rubbing at his temples as he finally reaches his front door. God, he just wanted to have a drink and go to bed, where hopefully he would dream about murdering Lucifer and lording it up with you above his grave. Maybe you guys could make out right next to his grave, that would really prove a point.
He slams the front door shut harsher than he should have, and immediately storms through the house, desperate to just see you in one of the rooms – he’d even break into the bathroom even if you were mid-shit if he had to, he just had to see you.
“Babe?” He calls, wings tucked tightly against his back as he prowls the corridor, poking his masked head into each room he came across, finally relaxing when he saw you relaxing with a book curled up in the loveseat in the living room.
“Adam!” You grin over at him, and the tension in his shoulders shifts at the sight, releasing a tight breath as you perk up as he approaches, tucking your bookmark back into place and waiting for him expectantly. Of course you would be here, he reprimands himself, furious that Lucifer could get to him in such a way; where else would you be? “How was your day? You had that meeting right? Did it go well?” You rapid-fire your questions, and you suddenly frown as he approaches. “You’ve still got your mask on, it didn’t go well.”
“Yes, hello sugar, it’s nice to see you too, damn.” He mutters, frustrated at himself for being so easy to read, and frustrated at you for reading him so easily, finally coming to a stop before you. “Can’t a man just wear his cool-ass mask? I just forgot, okay?”
“You can do anything you please, I’m just worried.” You look up at him sympathetically, and he immediately knew his tough-guy act was immediately lost on you. Who was he kidding? Today had been particularly shit, and he just wanted to be with you. Not to ease his worries, no, no, he was secure in his relationship, confident in his charm (he was fucking Adam, who could compare?) but just… because he wanted to be with you.
He wasn’t even convincing himself.
“Want to talk about it?” You ask softly, watching as he tugs the mask from his face and places it against the coffee table. His hair was a mess, and you could see the way his brows pinched into a light frown as he attempted to hide his frustration.
“Fuck no.” He shakes his head. “You’re right, the meeting went shitty. That pompous little prick-“ He cuts himself off, pursing his lips lightly as he stares down at you. He didn’t want to tell you what Lucifer had said. He knew you wouldn’t suddenly act on what he had said, but still, he daren’t even breathe the possibility into existence. “I just want to be home, with you.”
“I think I can help with that.” You grin, shuffling over on the love seat and staring up at him expectantly, an absolutely lovely smile on your rosy lips.
"What would I do without you?" Adam questions, sitting down next to you heavily and leaning in for a proper kiss. One of his large hands falls to your waist as he leans in closer, your back leaning against the arm of the armrest as he approaches, slender fingers weaving into the locks at the nape of his neck to hold him closer. He pulls away for a moment, pressing heavy kisses against your jawline, eyes closed to the world and enjoying the feeling of your fingertips against the nape of his neck.
"Is there anything else I could help with?" You utter softly, head tilting back to expose your neck. A sudden grin takes over your features. You were about to play with fire, but you couldn't help yourself. "Perhaps give Lucifer a talking to?"
"Why," he growls, pressing one last kiss beneath your ear before he pulls back, both hands falling to your twisted hips. "would you mention that old fucks name when I have my lips against you."
"Just trying to help." You bats your eyelashes playfully, a laugh escaping you at his furrowed expression.
"I seem to recall you saying 'anything I please' not only five minutes ago." He leans closer, a hand grasping the armrest you leant against, caging you in with a devilish grin. "This is how you can help. Distract me."
"Adam!" You mock, palms sliding up his biceps and resting against his chest as you lean further back, further from his lips. His eyes narrow in frustration. "I fear you have misunderstood-"
"You know exactly what you were doing, babe."
A flash of pearly white teeth as you laugh again, fingers pulling at his lapels to drag him closer. "I'm afraid I don't."
His lips cover yours as a hand slides beneath you, a hand grasping firmly at your ass as he sucks all air from your lungs, a moan rewarding his efforts. Adam moans as a hand tugs at his locks, pulling your waist closer as he bores down, a knee sliding up your skirt and forcing your legs to part, falling freely without encouragement. Your red silk skirt bunches up around your waist, guided by his hands to expose your milky thighs to the cool air. You gasp against him.
"You going to be good for me?" He mumbles against your lips, large hands guiding your hips, thigh rubbing at your heat through the thin layer of your underwear. "You going to be a good girl and distract me?"
You hum in response, vocalising your pleasure as his tongue slides into your mouth, not even bothering to put up a fight as Adam hungrily licks into your mouth, grip forcing your hips to shift against his own as you grasp at his biceps.
"You’re such a fucking tease." He moans between kisses to your skin, hands tugging fabric from your collarbone as he kisses lower. "If I wasn’t as generous, I’d make you do all the work tonight." He presses another deep kiss to your lips, caging you between his arms and nestling between your parted thighs. "Lucky for you I’m fucking pissed."
"Adam." You groan quietly, eyes fluttering as he licks his way down the column of your throat, teeth grazing your hot skin as he yanks your top down your shoulders. He doesn’t bother unhooking your bra, splitting it down the middle with a grin and ignoring your complaints with a harsh bite into the skin of your breast. Adam grins against your reddening skin as his free hand comes up to grip your other breast, rolling the bud tightly between his fingers as he sucks and bites around the swell of your breast. He groans at the feeling of your hands gripping his broad shoulders, fingers edging closer and closer to his wings, hips rolling forward and cock twitching in his garments. He delves forward, warm mouth wrapping around a pert nipple without warning, Adam pays you no mind when you gasp at a particularly hard nip, suckling hungrily as his left-hand travels lower to press your hips up and against him. Your head lolls back as he groans around your bud, thrusting his hips against your clothed core. He continues, on and on, until the pained groans turn into pleasured whines, your thighs quivering around his hips and hands carding through his locks.
He pulls away for air, pressing sloppy kisses along the wet skin at your chest. "Look at you, I’ve not even touched you and you’re whining like a bitch." He groans, pressing a kiss to the swollen nipple pinched between his fingers. "I know I’m good, but this is pitiful babe. Fucking desperate.”
You had half a mind to remind him that he was the one that had stormed into your living room and practically demanded you attention after a shitty day, but with his mouth against you and hands gripping your thighs like his life depended on it, you were happy to remain silent, breathing airily as he sucked harshly at your skin.
“I’d be a pretty shitty husband if I just left my wife like this, huh?"
“Adam-“ You go to warn at his mockingly coy tone, him having played this hard-to-get game before and leaving you wanting until it was actually you desperate for his touch, and not the other way around. This time, however, he didn’t have the patience for such games, your voice dying with a hitch of breath as he latches onto your other nipple, free hand travelling beneath your skirt to the damp spot growing against your underwear. He circles the damp fabric, feather-light and teasing, not yet touching the place you craved the most.
"Adam, baby," You breath heavily, chest heaving as he continues to lavish a pert nipple with his tongue, hands tugging at his robe and sliding down the smooth skin of his chest. "Adam, please."
With a harsh nip he unlatches from your chest, peering down at you with dark eyes, the gold barely glinting in the dim light of the room, breathing heavy. A smirk tugs at his lips, brunet locks falling in front of his eyes as you continue to work yourself against his thigh, wide eyes shining and whining pathetically.
"Please, what?" He shifts, clothed cock pressing harshly against your groin, rutting once, twice. "Fuck you? Make you feel good? Feel better than anyone else ever could?” He rolls his hips again, you whimper. "Or, please stop? Leave you in this state? Return to my duties?"
"No, no- please," your breath hitches as he bites at the soft mound of flesh below your right nipple, a trail of red and purple left behind as he nips lower. "Please, fuck me." Your hands finally dig into his wings, close to where they joined at his back, fingertips digging into the feathers and tugging lightly. You can feel the way his hands tighten either side of your ribcage, and you can see the way his pupils dilate as a red hue creeps up his neck and flushes the skin of his cheeks.
"Fuck," he moans, cock twitching in his breaches. His thumbs dig into your abdomen as his hands clench against your hips, stopping you from moving against him. God, this was exactly what he needed after this shitty day. You must have been some sort of Saint in disguise. "You fucking tease, fucking hands in my-“ He has to stop when you tug again, and he glowers down at you as your nails scratch their way down the centre of his golden wings, the tips twitching as he tries to remain in control.
“Oh yeah, baby? That's how you want to do this?" His voice had deepened to the familiar gravelling husk that you loved so dearly, and you can do nothing but nod fervently, the sound going straight to your core. You knew exactly what you were doing toying with his wings, and he knew just as well as you what that meant. Adam takes in the sight before him; the heaving chest, the perfect slender column of your exposed throat, the exposed milky-white of your spread thighs, the wide glossy eyes just pleading for him to move. He breathes deeply at the way your skirt bunches around your waist, your whole body on show except from a pathetic soaking pair of underwear. "Fucking perfect."
A rough hand suddenly against your throat has you falling boneless against the armrest, eyes rolling as Adam’s fist tightens, his wings twitching upwards as your hands fall to noncommittally pry at his fingers around your neck.
"Hng, please-" You rasp, spreading your legs as far as the backrest of the loveseat would allow, hands clenching into the fabric of the sofa beneath you.
"You'll get fucked," Adam whispers harshly against your ear, free hand sliding your ruined pants down your thighs. "but not until I'm done with you."
"Adam-"
"It’s been a fucking shitty day," he begins, a singular finger sliding between your folds and gathering the wetness that had gathered. You whine, straining against his hold on your neck. "and the one thing that’s gotten me through it is knowing I get to come home to this perfect piece of ass." He grins, feeling your pussy clench at the tip of his finger. "So I’m taking my fucking time with you."
A singular finger finally enters your swollen, aching, core, mouth falling open in a silent moan at the contact, finally. The sounds that echo around the room are obscene, wet and thick as his fingers curl, digging against that sweet spot inside of you.
"You hear that, sweety?" Adam murmurs mockingly against your lips, the pet-name dripping with irony as he kisses down harshly, a kiss you could only hope to keep pace with, never mind reciprocate. "You fucking filthy girl." A second enters, easily, coated in your slick within seconds as he draws moans from your lungs. He leans back, watching you flush and gasp beneath his hands, fingers pulling non-comically at the fist he had around your neck. A third finger enters, and this time, he feels the stretch.
"God, Adam-" You squeal, hips raising from the loveseat as he continues, the sinful sounds only getting louder and louder. You moan with every thrust of his fingers, hands gripping at the material of your shirts beneath you. You groans at the fiery pain in your walls, but your eyes roll at the pleasure that had started to build.
"So fucking wet, and all it took was the thought of being with me. At least you know how lucky you are babe, fuck-" His grip tightens around your neck, a fourth finger entering, and you scream, or would have if you had the oxygen to. A pathetic choking wail comes from your throat, and you clench tighter around his digits, hips chasing his hand with every thrust.
"I'm- I'm going to-" You sob as he picks up his pace, the sounds omitting from you downright sinful. Your thighs shake as your body goes rigid, mouth falling open in a silent scream.
Adam doesn't stop, eyes trained on his wife's face as you come undone beneath his fingers, hips jerking wildly as he thrusts and curls inside of you. It is only when your eyes flutter and legs fall slack that he stops, pulling his hand out from between your thighs with a sickening pop, fluid coating his hand and your inner thighs.
You blink heavily, gasping for breath as you finally return to your surroundings, feeling devastatingly empty but more than satisfied. Adam barely gives you a moment before he’s kissing you deeply, teeth tugging at your swollen lips and a hand winding into your hair to tug your head exactly where he wanted you. He doesn’t break the kiss as he scoops you into his arms, your hands grasp at his neck and shoulders as he carries you towards the bedroom.
He throws you down roughly on the edge of the side of the bed, shucking off his robe, trousers and pants quickly, hard and weeping cock springing free, red and painful at the neglect, balls heavy and painfully sensitive. You wiggle out of your red skirt, kicking it onto the floor as Adam clambers over you, knees pressed against the mattress. He slides his hand along your inner thighs, which part without question, gathering the wetness that coated them. He pumps his cock lazily, once, twice, abs clenching as he breathes deeply.
"I'm gonna fuck you so good you forget that cunts name.” He mutters more to himself, and it takes you a moment to realise who he was talking about. Ah, he hadn’t taken your comment about Lucifer earlier well. He never did. You can’t help but feel excited, as exhausted as you already were, Adam always got so competitive after a comment like that, and you always left the situation just as smug and satisfied as Adam felt. “Hope you haven’t got any important shit tomorrow, babe,” He comments, leaning over you and shrouding your smaller form with his large body, grinning down at you with a wickedness better suited to hell than heaven. “because it’ll be a miracle if you can walk.”
"You’re talking an awful lot." You comment, but your panting doesn’t give it the mocking you were hoping for. His wings flatten when your comment registers, and the golden feathers bristle as you continue. “You’ve yet to actually fuck me, I wonder if Lu-“
Without warning he thrusts forward, groaning hotly against your throat as his wings raise. You whine at the stretch, and your hands quickly burrow back into his wings as he bullies his way into you, forcing himself down to the hilt and not allowing you time to adjust. “Don’t you fucking dare say his name.” He hisses against your throat, biting at the skin harshly. He draws back, tip resting just inside your opening, and then surges forward, burying himself to the hilt, setting a brutal, staggering pace. You whimper in pain and pleasure at the abrupt pace, but fall into it as he thrusts, legs winding around his hips and anchoring him in place.
Adam groans into your skin with every thrust, unabashed and unashamed, the wet warmth between your thighs melting away his worries. His fingers dig painfully into the divots of your hips.
"You're my girl, no one else’s, my fucking girl." He groans, balls slapping against your ass as he thrusts, seizing your thighs and pushing them up towards your chest, folding you in half and giving you no choice but to breath and take it. "Clearly I’ve not been doing my job if you’ve had time to think about him, don't worry baby, I'll fix that."
"Adam," You moan at the new angle, his cock hitting that special spot inside with every thrust, legs shaking with every thrust. "please, please, please, I don’t-"
"Fucking slut, begging for my cock." He punctuates his sentence with a particularly hard thrust that has you keening, back arching from the crumpled bedsheets.
Suddenly, without warning, he pulls out completely and your high dissipates violently as you gasp and shoot upright, trying to tug him back down by his wings. "No, no, please-"
Large rough hands grab at your body as you are flipped around, hands scrambling for purchase and legs like jelly as you’re repositioned, locks falling into your face as Adam thrusts back in, hands gripping your hips as he pounds.
"You wanna act like a slut?" He drills his cock into you from behind, large hand pushing at your tail bone to force your back to arch. You comply easily, and you’re rewarded with a fist grabbing at the globe of your ass and slamming you back towards him with painful force. "I'll fuck you like a slut."
A tender hand runs up the column of your spine and you shiver, gasping into a moan as he gathers your hair in one tight fist and yanks.
"Oh! Oh Adam-"
Every slap of your ass with his hips has your head lurching back with the grip he has on your hair, eyes rolling into the back of your head as he thrusts, the harsh sound of slapping skin filling the room.
"Adam, ‘s too much," Your moans cut your sentence short, fists gripping the bed sheets as he pounds relentlessly, scalp stinging and pussy aching at the unforgiving stretch. "Please, I can't-"
"You fucking can." He growls, releasing your hair and shoving your head forward with a hand at the back of your neck, leaning forward to place wet kisses at the centre of your spine as he thrusts down. "I’m not done with you, so you're gonna fucking take it."
You moan pathetically into the bed sheets, fingers curling into the fabric either side of your head as your pussy throbs, a familiar searing heat coiling in your abdomen and tingling along your spine.
"We’re not done until you get that you’re mine, my bitch, and no one else can give you this, understand?" His large hands anchor themselves at your waist as he thrusts impossibly harder, sweat beginning to bead down his chest and stomach. No doubt bruises would be left behind, the thought of your perfect flesh, your perfect ivory skin, marred by his fingerprints only drives him further, his balls beginning to tighten.
"I'm- I'm - wait!" Adam doesn't listen to his wife's pleas, supporting your shaking hips with his large hands as he fucks you into the mattress, grinning past his exertion at seeing your thighs begin to quiver.
Your cracked voice mewls into the bedsheets as your second orgasm builds, panting pathetically as you brace yourself, tears of pleasure beginning to stream down your cheeks.
"Good fucking girl." Adam groans, feeling his own orgasm build, cock twitching within your walls. "Does my bitch finally get it? Huh?” Your lack of response doesn’t please him, and one of his large hands slaps the globe of your ass painfully as he continues his brutal pace. ‘'you gonna take it?"
"Please!" You finally wail, pussy clenching at the sheer anger in his voice, and beneath all the brovado, the desperation to know he’s doing a good job. And by God he was doing a phenomenal job. "So fuckin’ good Adam. I’m yours- yours.” You choke into the mattress when you feel his grip tighten against your hips, his hips stuttering at the praise. “Don’t stop. Adam, please, please-"
You wail pathetically, second orgasm crashing over you as you convulses beneath Adam’s cock, toes curling, legs only propped up with his large hands as you cry. “So, f-fuck– good.”
"Fuck." Adam groans as his own orgasm hits, balls tightening as he thrusts again and again, jerking uncontrollably as he empties inside of you, pumping his hips desperately. You can feel the air around you shift as his wings twitch, flapping powerfully with the concentration he pours into his final few thrusts, impossibly deep and hard as his arms flex against your lax figure. "Ah." He grunts, thrusting once, twice, collapsing on top of his shaking wife, cock buried to the hilt. His sweaty forehead presses between your shoulder blades, breathing hotly against your damp skin as you breathes shakily beneath him, catching your own breath as the aftershocks of your orgasm course through you.
"Fuckin’ perfect." Adam mutters gruffly against your skin, kissing tenderly as he straightens, hands landing on the globe of your red ass, slowly pulling his cock from you with a hiss. He watches with dark eyes as his cum gathers at your entrance, pushing a small trickle back in with a slick finger, causing you to gasp in surprise.
Large hands, far gentler than they had been mere moments ago, grasp your waist and manoeuvre you around, laying your panting frame back onto the edge of the bed. Adam leans down to kiss you sweetly, rough hands grabbing a thigh each and pulling them up towards your chest as he leans, tongue slipping into your mouth and licking into your cavern as he repositions, a soft sigh falling from your lips and your hands dangling leisurely from his broad shoulders.
He pulls back from the kiss, and you watch him with hooded eyes, unaware of the position you had found herself in until a thick cock-head presses at your weeping entrance once again. You look up, still panting, and Adam cannot help but feel utterly devoted to the sight in front of him, cock twitching back to full capacity; your cheeks shining from the tears that had spilled, lips puckered and swollen and invitingly red from the way he had nipped at them, the smattering of bruises that decorated your neck and chest. You were truly a vision, not a holy one, but absolutely divine to him.
"Adam, wait - I can't." You whimper breathily, hips pulling away from his cock. Too sensitive, too raw. Despite your reservations, Adam can see the way you breathe in suspense, the way your fingers flex against the bedsheets in anticipation. Hell, you weren’t even trying to close your legs in his grasp. You really shouldn’t have mentioned Lucifer’s name if you didn’t want this. He was nowhere near done.
"No?" He questions sarcastically, hands still pinning your thighs to your chest, golden eyes staring deeply into your own. "Looks to me like you can still talk back, that won’t do babe." Hands still grasping your milky thighs, Adam leans down, grinning before pressing a soft kiss right against your clit. You jerk, a cry falling from your lips. "Come on, sugar, you’re really tapping out so soon?" He rubs his cock against your folds, his cum coating his own flared tip, and your pussy flutters around him; you hiss out a whine. "What a shitty husband I’d be if I left you wanting, and from the look of you, I know you’re not done." He rubs his cock against you again, balls gathering the cum that had dribbled from your opening. You look up at him fervently, and you can see the determination in his heated gaze, and oh how that look had your core tightening as he leant impossibly closer. "Is my wife really done? I think she can take one more, one more, for me."
You groan as he enters again, slowly, cock dragging against your slicked walls, and a squelch emitting from your conjoined bodies as he finally bottoms out again. Your legs twitch in his hold, and he grinds his hips, fighting the urge to thrust.
Your mouth hangs open silently, eyes fluttering at the stretch to your over-sensitive core. Your nails tear at his shoulders uselessly, trying to distract yourself from the all-consuming pleasure, and the delightful sting has Adam clenching his jaw as he tries to remain composed. You can hear the shuddering breath he takes as he fights his instincts, pulling back just as slowly as he had entered, until the weight of his cock presses just inside your opening, and then thrusts back in, setting a slow, steady, hard pace.
He recaptures your lips in a searing kiss, biting at your lip until you allow him to snake his way inside, sucking the little air from your lungs as he pants into you, brows furrowed in concentration as he fucks into you with his hips and licks into your mouth hungrily. This time, he allows your hands to dig into his wings from the start, his own hands remaining perched on your thighs and pinning you down to take his harsh thrusts. He grunts when your fingertips delve back into the ruffled feathers, stretching them out beneath your touch and covering your body possessively beneath his larger frame.
"S-Shit babe.” He groans between thrusts, pace increasing silently. You can do nothing but moan pathetically, pussy aching and throbbing as your fingers dig deeper into his wings, and his shoulders tense at the intense pleasure that sparks all along his spine. "Fucking careful.” He tries to battle back his control that had begun to slip, and decides insulting you would mask the way your simplest of touches nearly had him finishing then and there. “F-fucking whore."
You simply groan, eyes rolled into the back of your head and hands blinding searching for purchase as that tight coil begins to wind in your abdomen, hips beginning to shift against his quickening thrusts. Your voice pitches and cracks as he pummels that special spot inside of you, and your hands clench into fists in his wings. "Oh God- Adam, right there, fuck – so fucking good."
“I know baby, I’m fucking good, I know.” He grits through clenched teeth, ever the egoist. Despite his parroting of the compliments as if they were simple facts, the compliments go straight to his head and his cock, and something in his chest tightens at the way you continue to babble his praises.
A particularly hard thrust has you gasping. "Adam, you’re so- so-" You couldn’t finish the sentence, but he got the message, and nearly cums with his next thrust, biting into your collarbone to distract himself from the praise.
Adam groans, balls already beginning to tighten. He yanks you closer as you continue to beg, forcing you in half as he pounds into you, cum spilling from around his cock as he thrusts again and again, your thighs slick with it.
"Adam, please." You pant, all air forced from your lungs as he drills into you over and over again, pussy struggling as Adam’s cum is forced from inside you to make room for his cock. "I'm all yours."
"Fuck, baby." He groans, balls slapping against your ass with every thrust. He releases your right thigh, free thumb pressing into your swollen clit and rubbing hard. "Cum for me, I know you've got one more. One more and I'll fucking fill you, one more."
You shriek at the pressure on your clit, head thrown back as your legs shake. Chanting 'yes, yes, Adam, fuck.' between wails.
"You can take it, 'fuckin' take it."
He swallows your scream with a kiss when you finally tip over the edge, your hips shaking against his own as your stomach erupts in a fiery jolt of pleasure that travels from the tips of your toes to your fingertips, back arching from the bedsheets. Adam swears against your lips, nails almost breaking the skin of your thighs as he cums, shoulders and wings tense as he humps tightly, burying himself to the hilt and pressing as much of his weight onto you as he could.
"Fuck, there you go." He groans, thrusting lazily, pressing you into the bedsheets, all of his weight forced onto your hips. "There you go."
You moan pitifully as his cock fully burrows itself to its hilt, both hands coming up to cradle the back of Adam’s head and shoulders as he allows his full weight to rest on top of you, face pressed against the crook of your neck, soft lips gently mouthing against a blossoming hickey, hips finally ceasing their aborted thrusts. You wrap your legs loosely around his hips as his hands curl beneath you, resting flat against your spine and securing you in his embrace. You sigh at the new angle, finally able to breath fully, and relaxes into the sticky sheets below, allowing Adam to lick at the bruises covering your neck and chest.
"You okay, baby?" Adam mutters softly, voice still unusually deep and gravelly as he comes down from his high, warm palms sliding against your sticky skin in some semblance of comfort, blunt nails scratching a light comforting pattern against your skin. He lifts himself up lightly, still burrowed within, sweaty brunet locks falling across his face and tickling your forehead.
"Never better." You grin, exhausted and blissed-out, a familiar ache beginning to settle deep within, but uncaring for the discomfort after seeing the poorly-masked worried devotion in your husband's eyes. "You’re amazing, you know."
"I know.” He hums cockily, and you swat at his arm playfully as he grins. “I supposed you aren’t half bad, too.”
Your head tilts in mock-offence, but the exhaustion and complete and utter satisfaction cloaking your eyes has you looking seconds away from passing out, and he chuckles at the sight. He studies you for a moment, mapping the flush to your cheeks and chest, the fraying of your elegant hairdo, the wet streams on your cheeks and the puffiness of your lips. His eyes travel lower, following a stream of bruises that caress your ivory skin all the way down to where your bodies conjoin. His eyes flicker back up and he grins cheekily, unapologetic and somewhat proud.
With a comforting pat to your thighs, Adam leans down for a far more tender kiss, grunting against you as he removes himself from you, dick falling free as he clambers up the bed and carefully tugs your spent body along with him, nestling you tightly into his side as his wings drape off both edges of the bed. He grunts, tugging you further onto his chest, and you giggle as you swing your arms around his chest and neck, cheek pressed against his shoulder and his own pressed against the top of your head, strong arms encircling your waist and pinning you close.
“I should rant to you more about my shitty days if you’re willing to cheer me up like this.” He grumbles to himself, eyes closed as he breathes deeply, and you feel the rumble of his chest beneath you. “I can feel you looking at me. Shut your mouth and enjoy the moment unless you want to piss me off again.”
“I didn’t even piss you off in the first place,“ You defend, rolling your eyes playfully at him. “but if you fuck me like that when you’re angry I’ll have to get you angry more often.”
“You want to go again?” Adam questions deftly, the exhausted surprise yet underlying giddiness in his voice almost making you laugh, if not for the fact that you were utterly and completely spent.
“No, no, I’m more than happy. I was going to say we should shower.”
He ‘humphs’ like a child, heavy arms not moving as you try to wriggle away from his grasp to begin running the shower. “What’s the rush? Give me ten minutes.”
“We’re disgusting.”
“Five minutes.” He mutters, rightening his hold on your waist. “You never know, in those five minutes you might want to go again, and then we’d save having to wash ourselves again, save the water bill and all that shit, y’know?”
“You’re disgusting.”
“You married me.” He backhands childishly, pulling you in closer to his chest. “So that we can be disgusting together. Now shush and stop talking, I was enjoying the moment.”
#I had to edit some of this one shot to make it MORE ACCEPTABLE#im sick I tell you#sick sick woman#im definitely not getting into heaven after writing this#Hazbin Hotel#Hazbin Hotel adam#Hazbin Hotel Adam x reader#Hazbin Hotel Adam smut#Hazbin Hotel Adam x reader smut#Adam smut#Adam x reader#Adam x reader smut#smut#Hazbin Hotel lucifer#lucifer#Hazbin Hotel smut#hazbin hotel x reader#hazbin hotel fluff#hazbin hotel x you#hazbin hotel adam#hazbin hotel Adam x reader#adam hazbin hotel#hazbin adam#hazbin hotel#hazbin
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Be The One
Pairing: Lando Norris x Innocent/Virgin!Reader
Rating: R
Requested: Yes/No
Request: lando with an innocent reader who hasn’t had sex yet and wants to lose her virginity
Words: 1.8K
Warnings: Smut!!! This is just pure smut with no plot, Oral (f receiving), fingering, p in v, Lando is just a giver in this, inexperienced reader, experienced Lando, etc.
Synopsis: It was stupid to ask him to be your first, the stupid books and edits are to blame
A/N: This was supposed to be a blurb, but I kept writing and writing and I've just been sitting on this in my drafts, now finally posting it, also I don't show the full sex scene just the beginning and then after
"I'm sorry, what?" Lando was spread out on your bed, having just come over to watch some movies and enjoy a quiet night during his summer break.
Instead, he got you the literal version of an angel asking him to take your virginity. "I want you to be the one to take it. Please?" Lando has to clamp down that instant reply of fuck yes. You try hard to control the way you're looking at him.
Grey sweatpants and signature black t-shirt with that necklace of his resting on the collar. Arm behind his head, showing off the muscles that he's honed and crafted from all the training for races.
Lando just blinks at you, running through all the different scenarios at a time. A million emotions hit him, as he tries to think of the right words to say.
"Lando?" Shame and embarrassment hit you like a truck, he probably thought you were crazy. Asking him out of the blue like that. All he simply asked was what movie you wanted to watch and you reply with asking him to have sex with you.
"Sorry, I'm just.....I'm just trying to figure out what to say." To you, those words meant no, hanging your head you step back from the foot of the bed. "I shouldn't have asked, this was stupid. I'm sorry." Lando sits up quick grabbing your wrist, stopping you.
"It's not stupid. Y/n, what the hell is making you want to lose your virginity all of a sudden?" The question has you flinching, you didn't want to tell him the truth. That some friends got you some spicy books, and all you could picture was Lando doing everything you read to you.
That, you had a secret folder in your phone of edits that fans did. Like you said, it was stupid to ask your friend to do this. "Nothing, can we just forget it?" Feeling that burn in your eyes, Lando stands in front of you. "No, no we can not forget it. If you want to lose your virginity, I need a valid reason." His jaw was tight, he was getting annoyed.
"Fine! My friends gave me spicy books and they had...sex scenes in them and all I could think about was your stupid face and how much I want you to be the first one dammit!" Cheeks flushed, Lando's chest heaves as he tries to control that urge in him. "What kind of books?"
His annoyance quickly gone, replaced with his boyish teasing charm. "None of your business, this was so stupid. Lando, please." You whimper the last part. His entire demeanor changes, quickly thinking of gross things to stop the rush of blood heading south instead of north.
"Do you really want to lose it?" Voice dropping, you look up seeing his pupils blown wide. "What?" Taken aback by the 180 this man can give you in the span of a minute. "Your virginity? If you want to lose it, now. Here. I'll do it, but just one condition." Lando stepping back, his knees hit the bed.
He sits down, hands wrap around your exposed thigs as he yanks you to stand between them. Stumbling, you almost fall into him but balance yourself on his shoulders. "What's your condition?" Voice wispy trying to get air into your lungs. His hands moving slowly up your nightie.
"If you do this, ever get curious about something, want to learn something new. You come to me, only me." Jumping his hands squeeze your ass, his teeth showing as he smiles. Leaning in, he places wet kisses against the thin material. "Yes." Lando looks up, bottom lip pulled down as he places another kiss to your stomach.
"Come here." A gasp is pulled from your throat as you land on his lap, his face buried in your chest. You lean back, freezing when you feel something resting between your legs. "Lando." Unsure, he stops. He really wants to laugh at your confused face, but schools his features.
"It's just my cock, angel." Heat flares throughout your body hearing such a vulgar word come from Lando. "Oh." Feeling a little lost, Lando smiles. Scooching back, he sits up so you two are face to face.
"Hey, we don't have to do anything you aren't ready for." Thumb rubbinng softly into your thigh, you nod your head. "No, I'm ready. Just be careful with me?" If it was possible Lando would've comed right then and there and died happily. "Always." His teeth nip your bottom lip sucking it in, losing himself in you.
Whining you pull away, arching up into his hip the sudden need for pressure too great. "Lando, please it hurts." Lando groans pressing up against you as he rolls you over, so he's on top. "I know, princess. I'll take care of you. Such a good girl." Kissing his way down your body.
He stops at your shorts looking up at you. "Hey, what I'm about to do is get you prepped. I'm...on the thick side and considering your a virgin it'll hurt and be very uncomfortable. But, prepping you will help, are you okay with that?" You nod but Lando doesn't budge. "Y/n, your words. I want to hear it out loud no nodding." You whine just wanting him to touch you.
"Yes. Yes Lando I want you to touch me and fuck me." Lando's eyes darken as he pulls your shorts and underwear off in one swoop. You squirm at the coolness hitting your bare pussy. "Cold?" Lando giggles, running his fingers over your thighs. Looking down he smiles seeing your trimmed but still have hair.
"Lando, please." He shushes you, taking his pointer and middle finger running them over you watching the way your hips jolt up and your face scrunching at the unfamiliar feeling. Slowly he pulls your lips apart, seeing how your wet but he wants you wetter.
"Are you okay with using my mouth and fingers? You can say no the either if you want, princess." Thinking it over you remember the videos and how woman seemed to really enjoy a man's mouth on them. "I'm fine with it." You gasp feeling Lando's mouth placing a delicate kiss.
He takes his time, wanting to learn what you like a don't like. He's careful to read to your face not wanting to push to far he hesitates to use his tongue. But hearing your moan when he moves it up and down, he's found something. "Lan...lan." You whimper as he grows more confident.
His lips wrap around your clit which has your legs clamp shut on his head. He laughs which has you giggling as he pries them off his neck. "You okay?" Licking his lips you nod. "Sorry, it sent this odd feeling up my body and I just reacted." Embarrassed at your reaction to it.
Yet you can't help the relaxed feeling seeing Lando's soft smile. His hands rubbing over your body helping you feel better. "It's fine, Y/n. You're experiencing this for the first time. I'm taking my time for a reason." You groan hearing that, hating he's having to take his time.
"I hate this! I don't want you to take your time, if I wasn't a stupid virgin, you could've just fucked me fast and hard." Lando narrows his eyes, pinching your side you squeal slapping his hand away. "This is your first time, Y/n. No one's first time is magical. Am I experienced? Yes, but do you know how many times it took me to feel comfortable? A while, it's not going to be fireworks and all that. But, you asked me to take your virginity and I'm going to be gentle and make sure you remember with fond memories." You can't help but snort on a laugh at his speech.
"Oh shut up, I'll leave right now and leave you a virgin." Lando teases, but you just mesh you lips together both of you falling into one another. His hands palm your tits, pulling out sweet moans as he goes back between your legs. "Lando, wrap...yes." Fingers tugging his hair when his lips wrap around your clit.
He pulls off, telling you he's about to use his fingers. Taking several deep breaths you relax as he slowly slides one finger into you. "How does that feel?" Using his free hand to rub circles into your hip. "Weird, it hurts, but not in a bad way just in a, never felt this before." Lando nods curling the finger and moving it in and out. "Oh, that's....not bad." Lando nods going back down.
He adds a second finger which has you panicking but he talks you down explaining why he's using another finger and it helps you. Lando is gentle as he gets you ready, he smiles seeing that you're ready. "Okay, you're stretched enough. Are you ready?"
"I think so, is it going to hurt?" Lando sits up, rubbing the back of his neck. "Yes, but I'm going to be slow and make sure I don't hurt you. If you say stop, no, or anything like that. I'm stopping. You just need to let me know." You watch as Lando takes off his underwear, holding a condom you can't help but stare.
It's probably odd, but he has a pretty cock. He wasn't lying when he said he was on the thicker side. "You're pretty." Lando snaps his eyes up at you, covering your mouth you look away. He can't help the blush on his cheeks, no one has ever called him pretty. He liked it.
"I'm ready." Wanting to move on from you calling him pretty. "Okay." He shuffles forward, placing your legs around his waist. "Try to relax, it'll help." Closing your eyes, you think of something relaxing. "Oh." Eyes opening Lando stops, having only entered you past his tip. "Are you okay?" You blink trying to figure out what you're feeling.
Yes, it stinges, but it doesn't hurt as much. "Yeah, I was expecting it to hurt, but it just stinges." Lando smiles, leaning over as he kisses you on the nose sliding the rest in. He places his head in the crook of your neck while the two of you adjust. "Lando?" He hums as you smile, fingers playing with the baby hairs on his neck. "Thank you, for doing this. Also, you can move." His back shakes, laughing at your words.
Lando moves his hips carefully as you wrap your arms around his neck, breathing as you get used to the feeling. Lando and you whimper and moan as you start to relax more enjoying this. You giggle when you kisses you on your neck which has him laughing. He was right, your first time was weird but also comfortable.
Laying in bed, feeling oddly tired he smiles drawing patterns on your stomach. "You're right, not the best but maybe we should practice more." Lando snorts, eyes growing heavy. "Easy, it's the orgasm thoughts. Let's wait till tomorrow." Nodding you roll to your side curling into Lando.
"I'm glad you asked me too."
#f1#f1 fandom#formula 1#f1 x reader#f1 imagine#f1 x y/n#formula one#f1 scenario#f1 smutt#f1 fluff#lando norris smut#lando norris x reader#lando norris imagine#lando norris x you#lando norris fanfic#lando norris x y/n#lando norris#lando norris fluff#lando norris f1#lando x reader#lando fluff#lando smut
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Please can I hold you? - Bucky.Barnes x Reader
Hello my loves,
I'm trying to be better this year at writing.
Summary: Y/N leaves, and Bucky tries his hardest to fix it.
TW: Kissing, trauma, family trauma, shouting, swearing, (let me know if I've missed some)
January 1st, it was supposed to be their year. They had promised each other that this was it, Bucky and Y/N. Bucky had promised no more long missions away from Y/N, Y/N had promised that she would move in with Bucky so they could finally spend more time together. A good year was what they wanted, what they deserved, what they needed. But here they were screaming at each other over Bucky not kissing Y/N at midnight. Y/N had explained to Bucky multiple times that she was at the edge, she couldn’t cope anymore with arguing, and whilst Bucky never admitted it, he hated it just as much, if not more than Y/N. Yet here they were.
“And another thing, I didn’t even want to go to Nat’s stupid New Year’s eve party” Bucky screamed ‘I wanted to be at home with you’ was the bit he failed to include in his insult.
“You told me you wanted to be with people you loved on New Year’s Eve, I thought it would be fun” She shouted back “You think it was fun for me? Because it fucking wasn’t. All I wanted to do was come home, the whole night, but you wanted to keep drinking” She seethed, Bucky wanted to tell her it wasn’t true. He didn’t want to drink, but he stupidly got caught up in the party.
“Now you’re going to get at me for drinking? Like you don’t do it every single weekend” He shouted, “Thor never brings that fucking mead, I deserved to have a nice night” He was being mean intentionally, but he couldn’t stop.
“I never said you didn’t Buck” She said her voice suddenly quieter, Bucky should have noticed it was because she was getting upset but he didn’t.
“Do you have any idea how hard I’ve been working? I just wanted one nice night” Bucky should have stopped himself, he knows he should stop but he couldn’t. He was angry at himself for not putting his foot down and saying he wanted to spend time with just Y/N.
“One nice night?” Y/N parroted “The nights we have aren’t nice? Is that what you’re saying?”
“No! You’re twisting my words” Bucky snapped, he spoke with insecurity but it came across as anger and Y/N didn’t like that
“Because I’m the bad guy right? James Bucky Barnes can’t put a foot wrong, but I can. That’s all I do right?” Y/N said, her fears coming to the surface. The insecurity was all from her messed up childhood, Bucky knew that from their late night chats, when they’d lay next to each other and confess everything, but he didn’t realise that the fear was seeping into their relationship.
“That’s not what this is about” Bucky said realising suddenly how far he had taken the fight, and how distraught Y/N was becoming
“Isn’t it?” Y/N snapped, her eyes locked onto Bucky as a target.
“You’re making this worse than it needs to be” Bucky said, unknowingly adding more fuel to the fire
“Yeah that’s me isn’t it? Making everything worse. Don’t worry Buck, I get it” She snapped turning away from Bucky
“Where the hell are you going?” He called after her
“Downstairs Buck, I need some space away from you right now” She stormed out of their bedroom and down the stairs. Bucky sat down on their bed with his head in his hands, he had just fucked everything up.
Taking a deep breath Bucky decided to set an alarm for 10 minutes, and once it had gone off he would go and speak to Y/N calmly about his feelings. That was how they were going to fix it. He knew he had messed up but he would fix it.
Y/N stood in their hallway, and listened to Bucky close their bedroom door. She knew she had blown things out of proportion, she had made things worse. The little voice in her head told her she had messed things up seriously this time. There was no coming back from this. Bucky hated her, she knew that much. The thought along was enough to almost break her, pulling on her trainers she left the house silently, following the little voice down the streets. She twisted and turned around the streets she used to love walking with Bucky, but now they just felt like they were taunting her as she remembered the kisses they had shared at the bus stop, and the stray cat they had wanted to adopt by the street corner. She couldn’t cope with it, so she began to run.
The wind blew in her ears, the kind of fierce that stopped her from having to think, it was dark and the street lamps did little to ease her discomfort. She was on her way home, in the desperate hope that Bucky was asleep, or at Steve’s or Sam’s. She had no idea of the time, having left her phone at home in Bucky’s jacket pocket most likely, but she sent a silent prayer to the sky that it was late enough that Bucky wouldn’t still be around. She couldn’t face him, not after everything she had done. Her mother was right, she wasn’t made for relationships, she would always mess them up, and now she had screwed up the only good thing she had going for her. This was it. She was done. Y/N didn’t notice the way her hands shivered a little with the cold biting wind, with her furious mood and growing insecurity she had forgotten a coat. As she turned onto her and Bucky’s street the tears started again, this really was the end. Her and Bucky were about to be done, finished, ended.
So much for their year. She mused to herself silently, revelling in the cruel twist of fate, her mother was right.
Pushing the handle of the door down quietly, in the hope to not wake Bucky if he was in, Y/N creaked the door open. She took a shaky step into the house, listening out for Bucky. When she was satisfied that there was no sound of him she closed the door behind her and took off her shoes.
“Y/N?” Bucky’s shaky voice called out, she froze. “Baby?” He said coming into the hall, Y/N put her hand back on the door handle, she was ready to run again, this was not a conversation she was ready to have.
“Don’t you dare ever scare me like that again” He said wrapping his arms around her tensed body, Y/N kept herself tensed, she was ready to run if she needed.
“I know you’re scared, I know you think you’ve messed this all up but I swear to you this whole argument is on me” he said refusing to let her out of his embrace,
“Bucky stop” she said quietly
“I’m sorry” He said dropping his arms, she looked up at him with red eyes “Could you come and sit down in the lounge for me?” He asked
“I should go”
“No” Bucky said “You’re going to come and sit down and we are going to talk about this, because we are bigger than your insecurities and we are going to fix this” he said,
“Oh,” Y/N said “oh” She repeated once the words had settled into her head “You aren’t breaking up with me?”
“Come on doll, come sit down for me?” He said
“Ok” She said, following Bucky through their house.
Y/N settled herself into an armchair, where she could curl her legs up underneath herself. Bucky opted for the sofa opposite her, picking up on the fact that she didn’t want to touch him just yet.
“Before we start, the next time you need to get away you tell me where you’re going. I was terrified doll, I know the kind of people that are out there and if you need space, please let me come with you. I promise I won’t walk beside you or speak to you but I need to know you are safe.” Bucky said “Please?”
“I’m sorry Buck” She said,
“No apologies. We have to make mistakes to fix them for the future yeah?” He said
“I don think I can do this Bucky. All your friends hate me, I invited you to a party you didn’t want to be at, I asked you to cut down your missions. Everything I do, makes me the issue in this relationship” She said,
“That’s not true, everyone loves you—”
“No they don’t, they put up with me”
“No, no, Y/N. Please don’t do this. I know you’re spiralling, I know that you’ve always been made to believe that its your fault. But I swear to you this one is on me. I wanted to spend New Years Eve with just you. I wanted to kiss you at midnight, but I fucked up. I got drunk and neglected you. You should have been my priority at midnight, not that stupid drink”
“I should’ve let you have fun” Y/N said
“No, I should have kissed you” Bucky said, his tone was final and Y/N didn’t want to argue anymore.
“I didn’t deserve it”
“You don’t have to earn love” Bucky said, moving to the carpeted space in front of Y/N’s armchair, taking Y/N’s hands in his he pressed a gentle kiss to her knuckles “I love you, I want to spend my life with you and I will spend every single moment apologising to you for the way I acted”
“I’m sorry for saying all those mean things Buck” Y/N said “I didn’t mean them I just wanted to make myself the bad person so you could hate me. I wanted you to hate me”
“Why did you want that?” Bucky asked after pressing another kiss to her hand
“So you’d end things, so my fears could come true. It’s sadistic, but I guess I’m always just waiting for the end so I just wanted it to happen. Like ripping a bandage off”
“Oh Y/N” Bucky said gently “You never have to be scared of me leaving. We will always work through our issues, you’re my life. You’re my world, this is it for me.”
“So you’re not waiting for me to fuck up so you can leave?”
“No, I’m not” Bucky said
“I’m sorry” she whispered
“No more apologies” Bucky whispered “Please let me hold you baby? We can talk more in the morning I promise. But right now I just need to hold you”
“You never need to ask”
#bucky barnes#bucky angst#bucky#bucky x reader#bucky barnes x y/n#itsthewritergal#bucky fanfic#bucky barnes x fluff#bucky x reader angst#bucky x you
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˖ ࣪ 𖥔 𝐎𝐂𝐓𝐎𝐁𝐄𝐑 𝐄𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐇 | 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𖥔 ࣪ ˖
— ℳ𝒾𝓈𝓈ℋ𝑜𝓃𝑒𝓎ℬ𝑒𝑒'𝓈 𝒦𝒾𝓃𝓀𝓉𝑜𝒷𝑒𝓇 —
Pairing: Daddy!Andy Barber x Nanny!Reader
Content Warnings: Daddy kink, ddlg undertones, somnophilia, dubious/non consent, age gap (Reader is early twenties, Andy is mid-forties), fingering, oral sex (f-rec), dirty talk, pet names (princess, sweetheart, baby), overstimulation, general smut bc this is kinktober so minors, dni!!
Word Count: 4.7k
A/N: Here we are!!! This is my first Kinktober and I am nervous to write all these new kinks and characterizations but also incredibly excited. I'm so sorry that this was so delayed, my loves! Work has been hell for the past week but I've finally had time to proofread this. As always, I do my best to keep my reader as inclusive as possible but please let me know if there's anything I can do to improve upon it! There's no use of Y/N or anything else where you need to insert information to read just because that's my personal preference! Anyway, please enjoy and I'd adore some feedback, if anyone feels so inclined!
Navigation: Masterpost | Playlist | Divider Credit | Kinktober Masterpost | October Fifteenth
Summary: Working as the Barber family's nanny is a piece of cake, but what happens when the dad you've been tip-toeing around all year comes home late one night to find you asleep in his bed, wearing his favorite sweater?
Although, you couldn’t exactly say that you loved your job, the accommodations and compensation made what little aggravation you faced in the course of a workday well worth it. While most students from your college town had picked up odd jobs in busy restaurants or quaint little shops, you’d become a live-in nanny for the Barber family. It was a perfect situation really—your tuition was covered by scholarships, you only worked in the afternoons and evenings, you didn’t have to pay for housing, the ‘work’ was a piece of cake, and your employer was the hottest man you'd ever fucking seen.
Jacob was a pretty quiet kid—and maybe a bit too old to have a nanny, at the age of thirteen—so you were essentially just paid to ensure he didn’t sneak out of the house and ate a somewhat balanced dinner on the nights that his dad got home late from work or other engagements. The family unit was small with only Jacob and his father and, now by extension, you.
District Attorney Andy Barber had quietly left his wife a year earlier and moved he and his son away from their small hometown to start over just as you’d arrived in the city to begin your third year of school. You’d met in the aisles of a dark liquor store as you stood in front of the vast selection of wine, teeth digging into your lower lip as your eyes scanned all the labels on the red varietals: merlot, cabernet sauvignon, Malbec, pinot noir, Sangiovese.
Seeing your hesitation at making a selection, he’d easily swooped in and found you something sweet, saying it reminded him of you with a charming grin. It was an unassuming bottle with a minimalistic label—a vin santo that flooded your tongue with a sweetness that reminded you of warm summer days and cherry jam. It was perfect—and that was where it all began.
You’d crossed paths in your small college town several more times and now, more than a year later, you’d settled into the Barber’s lives seamlessly. The big colonial house, tucked away in the gated neighborhood, was quiet as the clock approached one in the morning. Andy had needed to attend some gala, to rub shoulders and grease palms and do all other sorts of lawyerly things, so after dinner, you had taken it upon yourself to clean up around the house after Jacob had gone to bed.
The kitchen had been cleaned from dinner you’d made, the dishes had been washed and put away, and you’d finished the laundry. All of the linens had been tucked away in the hall closet but you found yourself hesitating at the door of Andy’s empty bedroom as sleepiness began to sink into your bones. There were just a few shirts that needed to be hung in his closet. You rocked back and forth on your heels, deliberating silently as you propped the basket on your hip, looking up and down the silent, empty hall as if he’d appear and chastise you for even entertaining the idea. He’d never said his room was off-limits to you; in fact, Andy had always told you to make yourself at home.
It would only be for a few minutes anyway.
Stifling a yawn, you quietly opened the heavy, wooden door and slipped into the dark room. Flipping the light-switch turned on a lamp, dimly bathing the unfamiliar space in a warm, comforting light. It looked just like you’d imagined it—not that you’d spent a long time picturing your employer’s room.
No—never.
Certainly not when he came down to the kitchen on Saturday mornings in worn flannel pajama pants and made coffee for the two of you to share in silence as Jacob slept in, and definitely not when you lay in your bed, in the room just next door to his, with your fingers slipping beneath the silky fabric of your panties as you remembered the feeling of his eyes on you from across the dinner table.
Feeling your face grow warm as you shoved those thoughts away, you quickly opened the door to his closet. It was as organized as you’d have thought it to be. The hangers and collars were all turned in a uniform direction, the shirts organized by shade and hue from dark to light. Humming softly to yourself, you finished the chore quickly before something on the foot of his pristinely made bed caught your eye.
The fall air that had invaded the New England coast had brought a chill, and along with it, a shift in his wardrobe. It was a deep, forest green sweater of his that had silently become your favorite item in his closet. Cautiously, you picked up the article and bit your lip to stop a quiet sigh from escaping your lips. It was soft and you’d imagined yourself running your hands over his chest while he wore it dozens of times.
The clock on his bedside table read just after one; when Andy had left that afternoon, he’d mentioned that it would be close to two before he’d return home from Boston. You knew exactly what you wanted. Padding softly across the room, you closed the door with an almost silent ‘click’ of the latch. You couldn’t help it; you could feel your heart beating against your breastbone and the way your panties had grown damp at just the thought.
There was a bit of a thrill as you slipped out of your ratty collegiate sweatshirt and allowed it to fall on to the soft carpet without a sound, your short cheer shorts following suit. Bare to the cold room, you felt goosebumps prickle your skin and you weren’t sure if your nipples had grown hard from your admittedly overactive imagination, or the exposure.
Slipping the woven cashmere over your head, you let out a soft sigh as the fabric caressed your skin and enveloped you in a scent that was purely Andy. It was something expensive; you’d seen the bottle on his bureau. A sweet, smoky wood scent that clung to his skin and the fibers of his clothes—fuck, you wanted to be covered in it.
Crawling on to the king-sized bed that took up the center of his spacious room, you couldn’t help but giggle as you sank into the plush, white duvet that covered it. Your fingers and toes curled against the cotton, and, in the back of your mind, you knew you’d have to smooth it all out before you returned to your own room, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care in the moment.
All you could think about was Andy in this bed, his hand working his hardened cock as quiet groans strained from his throat. You knew he did it every night before he fell asleep. You couldn’t help but wonder if he knew that, just separated by a single wall, you listened carefully and covered your mouth, fucking yourself along with him.
Allowing your eyes to drift shut, your fingers trailed down your body, rubbing the damp fabric that clung to the lips of your wet pussy, whimpering softly as you brushed against the hardened nub of your clit. God—you wished it was him. His fingers teasing your cunt, his tongue brushing over your nipple before grazing it with his teeth.
Clenching the duvet, that was covered in the musky, heavy scent of him, with white knuckles, it didn’t take long for you to reach the precipice. Biting your lip, almost painfully, you stifled a cry. The way your walls fluttered around your fingers, as your thighs clenched hard, and your toes curled into the soft sheets made you feel like you were flying. Writhing against the now too-warm bed, you felt that fuzzy, pleasurable feeling wash over you like the sun’s rays as you came back down. Touching yourself had never felt so good before—how could you go back to your normal nightly activities?
Slipping your hand from the sodden fabric, it was like your body was on autopilot. Your breathing slowed as your post-orgasm brain returned from the stratosphere. It wouldn’t hurt to close your eyes for just a minute. One minute, then you’d take off his too-soft sweater and get rid of any evidence that you’d even been here. One minute, then you’d go to your own room and lay down and go to sleep with your little secret.
Just one minute, then…
The lights were off in the silent house. Andy carefully allowed the heavy front door to close behind him, turning the deadbolt as he shut out the rest of the night. Running a hand over his scruff-covered chin, he let out an uninhibited yawn. The day had been long, the night even longer, and he longed for sleep. Leaving his briefcase in his office, and his rumpled jacket folded over his arm, he quietly padded up the stairs and down the hall.
With a gentle knock on Jacob’s door, and no answer in response, he quietly peered inside. A muss of brown hair rested on his pillow, barely visible under the plaid quilt that covered the bed. Jacob hadn’t snuck out since you’d taken on the task of nannying him, but Andy always liked to be certain, not quite trusting the little shit—and for good reason. Quietly closing the door, he continued down the hall before coming to rest in front of your room. He frowned, looking at the floor for that telltale strip of light that usually spilled from beneath the door and tattled to him that you were still awake, usually reading or listening to music or watching something on your laptop.
You were a night owl, and it wasn’t even two in the morning; you never fell asleep this early unless you had an exam the next day and he knew that wasn’t the case. It was the weekend. He’d gotten to know your schedule intimately, getting a copy of your class and assignment schedule from you under the guise of staying in the loop. Truth be-told, he just wanted to know how your days went and where you were. Erring on the side of caution, he gently rapped a knuckle against your door, quietly murmuring your name just inches away from the wooden barrier, knowing you’d hear, if you were actually awake.
Met with silence, he felt a tug in his chest. He knew you weren’t the lightest sleeper; once when he’d apologized for doing lawn work on an early Saturday morning, you’d told him, with a sheepish blush, that you hadn’t even noticed the loud mower outside your window. Knocking once more, louder this time, he called your name with no response. Resting a hand on your doorknob, he hesitated.
Though it was unspoken, he’d deemed your room off-limits…but what if you were hurt? Or sick? What if something had happened to you after Jacob went to bed? Talking himself out of walking away, he turned the cold, metal knob. The door opened silently and he hesitated before taking a step inside, his eyes searching the pitch black for your form.
Adjusting to the dark, his eyes could make out the frilly pink sheets of your still-made bed. With a frown, he flicked on the light and took in the space that he’d only ever caught occasional glimpses of. Through the worry, there was a pique of intrigue. Everything was shades of pastel, a little stuffed bunny propped up against your pillow. It was all so innocent and girly. Sweet and saccharine, just like you.
A light on your nightstand got his attention; a lump in his throat, and the bulge in his tight slacks, grew as the shape registered. Nope, it wasn’t your phone. Fuck. A little vibrator rested on your bedside table, and he had to bite his lip to stifle a groan. He’d heard the quiet vibrations through your shared wall before but seeing the culprit and everything else was something new entirely.
He always knew you were girly, loving cute things and being just as sweet, but you—
You were missing.
He didn’t have time to jerk off as he tried to remedy all of the new things he’d learned about your bedroom. Muttering a curse under his breath, he adjusted his rapidly hardening cock before taking a step back and taking a deep breath, pinching the bridge of his nose as he gathered himself. He had to get a fucking grip—he argued against murderers for a living, for Christ’s sake. Would your vibrator and sweet little bedroom really be his downfall?
Your car was still in the driveway—you weren’t in the living room and the den had been dark when he’d come in as well. Pulling his phone from his pocket, he quickly found you listed under his favorites and allowed it to dial. His brow furrowed when he heard a quiet sound from the next room over. In just three strides, he was in front of his room and with one more, he was inside as the phone call went to voicemail.
The lamp in the corner of his room illuminated the space, as well as your sleeping form that was sprawled over the center of his king-sized bed. A cocktail of relief and arousal flooded him at once. You were safe. You were home.
But you were also in his bed. And aside from his sweater, only wearing a pair of satin-y, baby pink panties that were molded perfectly to your ass which he could plainly see in the warm light that filled the room. You rested on your belly, fingers gripping his pillow beneath your head tight, with one leg hiked up the mattress as you snuggled into the plush bedding. Closing the door quietly behind him, his legs carried him over to the bed without a second thought. His eyes trailed over your relaxed body and affection almost made the corner of his lips tick upwards.
You looked so sweet, your eyes closed gently as your thick lashes brushed your soft cheek. That sweetness was cut when he noticed a damp patch on your panties and the way that soft sighs of sleepy pleasure slipped from your lips as you rocked your hips into the mattress, oblivious to your newfound audience as some dream played out behind your eyelids.
The aquamarine of his eyes caught fire as he watched you shift in your sleep. Draping his jacket over the armchair in the corner of his room, he stalked across the room, pausing as he landed beside the bed. Straight, white teeth digging into his lip, he held back a groan as you shifted, seeking out comfort as his sweater rode up to your waist, revealing more of you to his starving gaze.
He could feel his cock throb at the sight of you and he was almost certain that no amount of deep breathing could resolve it. He needed you out of there before he blew a load in his pants like a fucking teenager. Tucking his length in to the waistband of his boxer-briefs, he carefully sat down beside you. The foam mattress didn’t move you in the slightest and he mumbled a curse under his breath before resting a hand on your thigh, giving you a gentle shake as he softly murmured, “Sweetheart?”
A little groan slipped through your lips, your eyes squeezing shut tighter as you held on to the clouds of sleep that still filled your head. Turning over, you mumbled something incomprehensible before your breathing leveled back out.
Looking at his hand still resting on your smooth thigh, he resisted the urge to give the cushion of your skin a soft squeeze. Slowly trailing his eyes up your frame, his eyes darkened. Your nipples strained against the light knit material, begging to be pinched and laved. If you tempted him when you were awake, wandering the house in those tiny shorts and tight tops, watching you sleep was another circle of hell where he was condemned only to look but never to touch.
You two had danced around one another since you’d met at that liquor store. How could he know you wanted it as badly as he did?
“Princess,” Andy tried once more, his thumb brushing back and forth over your leg as he spoke at a normal volume, “Wake up for me, sweetheart.”
He watched the way your nose crinkled slightly in your sleep and a small smile spread across his lips. It was as if your subconscious was absorbing his words, blocking them from reaching your conscious mind and waking you up. As he gave your leg one more gentle shake, you let out a quiet, whiny groan consisting of one word, “Daddy…”
Andy couldn’t help the way his grip on you tightened at the two-syllable word, the little blood that was left in his head, rushing to his groin. Fuck—there was no mistaking that. He barely noticed the way his hand had drifted further up your leg; he needed to touch you more, to see all of you.
You’d just called him daddy.
He could be your daddy for tonight.
Or, for as long as you’d allow him.
Clearing his throat, he gave one last, half-hearted attempt at waking you, “Baby?”
“Daddy, please…” You breathed out, your fingers gripping the soft blankets as your dreams continued to roll like a film reel, unaware of the way that their subject’s hand had drifted up to your hip, toying with the elastic edge of the only barrier separating him from you. Your voice was so innocent as you whimpered out, “Need you, daddy…”
At that, it didn’t take long for Andy to slip down the bed, gently parting your already spread legs further, leaving enough space for him to lay between them. With a tentative hand, he brushed his thumb over the wet spot that had darkened the light fabric of your panties, begging for his attention. Your hips jerked as he dragged his finger down the cleft of your folds and a low chuckle gently shook the bed.
“Shh…” He shushed your soft whimper, watching as your brows drew together, seeking out the feeling again and rocking your hips upward.
Fuck—he’d wanted this since he saw you standing in that dark store. You’d looked so sweet in your little, frilly pastel dress, your exposed décolletage shining with some body shimmer that smelled like vanilla, even from a foot away. That was you; always so sweet, so good.
Pressing a gentle kiss to the center of your covered, private area, feeling the dampness against his slightly parted lips, he hummed softly, reassuringly as his thumb continued to drift up and down that same spot tortuously, “I’ll take care of you, sweetheart.”
You spent all your time doing things for everyone else: your family, your friends, him, his son—when was the last time that you’d been taken care of? When was the last time you’d let your walls down enough to even allow it?
In that blissful twilight of sleep, you were so soft, vulnerable and receptive to his care. You’d allow it, even if you didn’t know you were.
Holding his breath, trying to stay as silent and as still as possible, Andy gently rolled the lacy, elastic band down your legs as his eyes stayed trained on your face for any hint that you were coming around. Gently maneuvering your sleep-laden limbs, spreading your legs wider for him to fit between, you barely shifted as he draped your legs over his broad shoulders.
Running a finger down the bare, sensitive skin of your puffy slit, he groaned as he collected the proof of your arousal on the tip of his digit. “Oh, sweetheart…” Using his thumbs, he gently spread the petals of your sex and had to bite his lip to stifle himself from cursing at the sight. The low light glistened against the wetness that clung to your skin as your hips shifted and your brows pulled together, feeling the cold air brush against your exposed clit. He cooed, “You’re so wet, baby. This all for me? All for Daddy?”
“Mm…” You mumbled, your cheek pressed against the pillow as your hands drifted up your body, dragging the hem of his sweater up over your tummy slowly. You could feel the last glowing embers of sleep slowly dying, with each brush against your skin pushing you back towards the waking world but you were so comfortable. You were enrobed in Andy’s scent, that sweet smoke that made you feel like nothing bad could happen to you as long as it was near.
Andy’s thumb brushed against your swollen bundle of nerves and he let out a low, dark chuckle as your hips gave a sudden jerk at the direct stimulation. Not wanting to torture you—not yet at least—he traced circles around the bud, careful not to touch it directly again. After several moments, he carefully slipped one finger inside, finding no resistance if your state of need. Giving it a few, agonizingly slow, experimental pumps, he watched hungrily as his digit glistened with your wetness each time it slid out.
With his eyes trained on your blissful expression, he gently slipped in a second, longer finger beside the first and watched hungrily as your body adjusted to the new sensation, a soft whimper breaking through your parted lips at the stretch; his fingers were far larger than your own.
“Daddy’s going to eat your sweet pussy, baby.” As his fingers hooked upwards gently, they pressed teasingly against the spongy pillow of your g-spot, your hips bucking forward again at the sudden pressure that made your squeeze around him. You were balancing on the precipice of wakefulness now, one foot still in that perfect dreamland and the other stepping towards the seemingly real, gentle brushes against your skin.
With a gentle kiss pressed to your hip bone, his tongue finally licked a broad, languid stripe through your folds from your entrance to the red button of your clit that continued to beg for his attention. “Fuck, you taste like candy…” Watching the way your tight hole clenched around nothing; he immediately imagined filling it with his cock, Andy groaned, “Sweetest little cunt I’ve ever had.”
Closing his eyes, he groaned as he leaned back down, using his tongue to lave over your sensitive skin; he needed to taste you. Sleep was slipping away, and you weren’t certain if it was a dream when your hands threaded through a head of hair that rested at the apex of your thighs. The grip of your fingers tightened almost painfully in his hair as his lips finally wrapped around you swollen clit, giving it a hard suck before letting it go. The scrape of your nails over his scalp mixed a quick lick of pain into his pleasure.
“Oh god—fuck!” You felt your body begin to shake as an orgasm barreled towards you, forcing your sleepy eyes to finally open.
“Watch your language, princess.” Andy’s eyes found yours open and he grinned wolfishly at the surprise and arousal that filled your expression, “Good girls don’t talk like that.”
The wet muscle dipped inside your channel, his nose nudging against your clit before he dragged his tongue slowly up again to the swollen nub. He traced the tip around it before sucking hard then soft and letting go and repeating the movement again and again. He could feel your body tensing as an orgasm quickly approached and he slipped his fingers back into your soaking cunt, your thighs quivering at the added feeling.
“Andy—ah!” A whine was pulled from your throat, silencing your sweetly confused question as you fell over the edge.
He grinned against your skin at the shattered cry, sucking your clit just slightly harder than a moment earlier before gently scraping his teeth over it and making your thighs squeeze around his head. He murmured against your wet pussy, his voice sending vibrations through your body, “What’s my name, baby?”
Your mind was floating away and all you could concentrate on was his touch and the way he made you feel so little and taken care of as he played with you. Shaking your head, your sweet voice came out shakily, “I don’t—”
“I know I haven’t made you that stupid, baby.” His thumb circled your clit, tugging up on the hood of it and exposing the pearl to his greedy eyes before they flicked back up to yours as you leaned up on your elbows to watch him, “What’s my name?”
Capturing it between his lips, he sucked hard, and you felt the wetness dripping from your hole onto his duvet, “Daddy!” You finally cried out, failing to silence yourself as he dipped his tongue into your entrance, collapsing back onto the bed as he played you like a violin, feeding off your every reaction. “God! Oh—feels so good…Daddy, please!” There was a pout on your lips that contrasted with the way your hips rocked against his every touch, unsure if you wanted him closer or to stop the sensations that were becoming too much.
“You like when Daddy plays with your princess parts while you sleep? Yeah?” He let out another deep chuckle against your cunt as a little chirp was pulled from you at his naughty words. He continued lowly, “You know I had to when I found this beautiful little girl in my bed, cunt soaked and waiting for me to come home.”
You moved your hips, chasing that pleasure with each changing angle. The sounds were almost depraved; every lick of his tongue and brush of his fingers forced a wet noise into the room that was mostly quiet aside from the constant melody of your breathy moans.
His hips rocked into the mattress, seeking out his own pleasure as you whimpered, “Fuck, that’s my good girl—wearing my sweater and those slutty, little panties. Gonna keep those, baby. Never getting them back.” Slipping two fingers back into your tight cunt, he pumped them as his mouth focused on your little pearl, “Now come for me again, sweetheart.”
“Can’t!” You cried out, your lip quivering as your second climax barreled towards you, and you shook your head, begging, “No! Too sensitive, daddy…”
“You wanna be sensitive?” He landed a smack to your overworked button with three fingers.
“No!” You whimpered, feeling tears well in your eyes, sniffling as the pleasure made your body shake.
“Better make that sweet little pussy squeeze my fingers or Daddy’s gonna give you a lot more than this…” With dark eyes, he watched as the pleasure finally took hold once again, dragging you under.
“Daddy!” You whimpered as he pressed against your g-spot with two thick fingers, sucking your clit at the same time and shoving you over the edge. Your fingers tightened in his hair as you finally squealed, “Oh! I’m coming!”
You felt your walls flutter as he helped your body ride the crest of the wave of your second orgasm, licking you slowly as a new flood of wetness coated his tongue like a nectar that he never wanted to stop drinking. He could live and die between your thighs, happily.
Your toes curled as your thighs clenched around his head, it was almost as if you were trying to force Andy away when the stimulation became too much but he held your thighs open despite the pleasured cries that filled the. room.
“That’s it…Good girl, sweetheart.” He murmured, helping you come down from the edge that you’d been balancing on for far too long. Watching through half-hooded eyes, you hummed softly as he rubbed your still trembling thigh with one hand and cleaned the fingers of his other with his mouth, a sly smirk on his full lips.
“I…” You trailed off, your cheeks burning as you finally came back from that floaty place where your head had been since waking.
‘Holy shit.’
Covering your body with his, your eyes widened innocently before he caught your lips in a surprisingly soft kiss. He tasted like whiskey and you, and it felt like a drug that you’d easily become addicted to. Andy’s hand landing a smack on your ass made you jump, pulling away from the kiss that had lulled you into a false sense of security.
He chuckled as you let out a quiet whine at the sting his hand left behind, sitting back up and undoing his belt with dark eyes that were still focused on you, “Now get that little ass in the air. It’s time to let Daddy use this sweet little hole, princess.”
#andy barber#andy barber fanfiction#andy barber smut#andy barber x reader#andy barber x reader smut#chris evans character#chris evans character smut#kinktober#maddie writes spice#maddie writes#honeybeeskinktober2022#kinktober 2022#reposting this bc it won't show up in the tags :(#mine
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What happens in Vegas, does not stay in Vegas
Hello! I am back! Work and the real world have been kicking my ass. not to mention writer's block! Anyway, here's a little story that I have been daydreaming about forever.
Jake Seresin x FemReader
Warnings: Language, shitty writing, mentions of drinking, suggestive, made up laws
There were four things I was sure of before I even opened my eyes this morning.
1. I was going to have the worst hangover in the history of hangovers.
2. I was never drinking again.
3. Number 2 is a lie
4. I need to ask the hotel where they got their blankets because they seemed to be heated and weighted so I need one.
I couldn't remember what I drank, how much I drank last night. or what we even did.
There was no doubt that coming to Vegas for a bachelor and bachelorette party would be crazy, I knew that as soon as I saw where we were going, but I didn't think we'd end up straight out of a scene from The Hangover.
I lay there for a little while longer, trying to get up the nerve to open my eyes. I knew that once I did, my headache would set in and I don't think I was ready for that.
After a few minutes, I felt myself starting to fall back asleep but before I could, the weight on top of me began to move. Panic rises through me as I thought it was a weighted blanket this whole time.
Once my eyes adjust, my gaze lands on a very hungover, possibly still drunk, Jake Seresin sitting up on his knees. His hair was all over the place, nothing on but a pair of Calvin Klein briefs, hands rubbing his eyes.
"What the fuck did we do last night?"
Jake startles, head whipping up to look at me, but recovers quickly. A smirk slides onto his face and he opens his mouth to say something but I quickly hold up my hand to stop him. I was in no mood to hear one of his comments. Taking in his attire, or lack thereof, my mind begins to race.
My eyes widen as I quickly pull up the blanket that was covering my body. I was in one of Jake's t-shirts so that was a good sign but my relief was short-lived as I came to see that my underwear has seemingly gone mia.
I push myself up to a sitting position, throwing my hands up to cover my face, "Do you remember anything from last night?"
"You mean, did we have sex?"
Rolling my eyes behind my hands, "Yes, Hangman, did we have sex or not?"
I didn't have to look at him to know that he was smirking, "Can you walk?"
My hands fall away from my face, giving him the most confused face I could muster, "What does my ability to walk have to do with anything?"
Leaning back on his hands, "Princess, if we had sex last night, there's no way you'd be able to walk this morning."
Closing my eyes, I let out a huge sigh, "Now is not the time for games, Hangman."
"I'm just telling you the truth, ask any of the girls I've taken home."
I open my eyes to look at him, "There's not enough time in the world to go through that list."
He rolls his eyes but says nothing else.
As the silence rolls over the room, I let my eyes wander around. I was definitely in Hangman's room, his stuff was thrown everywhere, it smelled like him, and it had a different view of the strip than mine did. My attention is brought back to Hangman as he drags a hand down his face. My eyes are drawn to his fingers, specifically his ring finger, "Hangman, what's on your finger?"
His eyebrows furrow as he pulls his hand away from his face to look, "Is that a wedding ring?"
A black shiny band wraps around his finger. His ring finger.
"Who the hell did I marry?"
A sinking feeling settles in my stomach as the words leave his mouth. Slowly, I look down at my hands that rested on my lap. I turn my hand so I could see the back of my hand, my eyes are immediately drawn to the ring that rested on my finger. My ring finger.
I look back up at Hangman, whose brows were furrowed and whose gaze was locked on the ring on my hand, "This is a joke right?"
Hangman didn't say anything, just continued to stare, so he was useless at the moment.
Flinging the blanket off, I throw my legs off the side of the bed and push myself up. I head over to the dresser and begin to open the drawers, "Hangman, where are your underwear?'
Glancing over my shoulder, Hangman still sat on the bed staring at my empty spot. "Hangman!"
He turns to look at me, a very confused look on his face. "I need a pair of underwear to wear so we can go find our friends who will hopefully tell us that this was just a joke and that they snuck in here and placed the rings on our fingers while we were sleeping."
He points over to the closet but doesn't say anything. I rush over and throw the doors open, quickly grabbing a pair of his boxers and pulling them on before heading to the bathroom. I put some toothpaste onto my finger before quickly "brushing" my teeth.
Hangman had pulled on a pair of sweats and was pulling on a t-shirt when I walked out of the bathroom.
Neither of us said a word as we made our way towards the front door where we find a note from Bob, saying to meet them in the buffet room.
All but throwing open the door, I quickly make my way down the hall and towards the elevator with Hangman trailing behind me.
The words from my ex repeating in my head, if you get with anyone else I'll have no choice but... my thoughts were interrupted by the ding of the elevator.
The elevator ride seemed to go on forever. Neither Hangman nor I said anything to each other. It was like Hangman and I hated each other but we weren't friends either. I was introduced to the group through Coyote. Hangman had tried his usual tricks to get into my pants and I didn't fall for it. I think I was the only one who didn't fall for him and he wasn't used to it.
The lobby was already busting with people by the time we got here, I couldn't tell if people were going or if their night had just ended.
Hangman and I begin to make our way towards the buffet room but we didn't get very far, "Mr. and Mrs. Seresin!"
I turn my head and see the front desk lady looking in our direction. I stared at her for a few seconds before bringing a finger up to point at me. She nods and enthusiastically waves us over.
I grab Hangman's arm and begin to drag him over to the front desk.
"Mr. and Mrs. Seresin! Good morning!"
The lady's smile falters for a brief second but returns to its over-the-topness, "I was just about to give you a call! The chapel called and they requested that I copy of the marriage license be mailed to the address in San Diego and that it was successfully filed this morning!"
**********
The lawyer sets the marriage license down before leaning back in his chair, running a hand over his face, "To be honest, there is nothing we can do."
I'm pretty sure my eyes about fell out of my skull.
"There are laws in place here in San Diego, specifically towards those who get married in Vegas and shotgun weddings. Basically, to not waste the court's time, those who get married like you two did have to be married a full year before they can file for divorce."
I take a deep breath in, leaning my head against my hand, "So we can't get divorced for a year?"
Nodding, the lawyer leans forward, glancing back and forth between Hangman and me, "You will have to prove that you two really gave it a shot, and if at the end of the year, you don't feel the same then you will be granted a divorce. You do have to do the things married couples do like live together, attend therapy, go out, and whatever else they do. You will have random visits by a court-appointed person to ensure that you both are giving this a go. Any questions Mr. and Mrs. Seresin?"
#Jake Seresin#Hangman#Top Gun#Top Gun Maverick#TGM#Jake Hangman Seresin#TGM fic#tgm imagine#Jake Seresin x reader#Hangman x reader#jake seresin fic#Hangman Fic#Hangman top gun#Hangman series
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Two Snakes And A Badger: Chapter III
Pairing: Imelda Reyes x f!MC x Poppy Sweeting
Summary: Poppy faces down her past. A bond is strengthened, and consummated. (Or: The Sexual Awakening of Poppy Sweeting)
Word count: 12.4k
Content warning: NSFW (18+). Minors DNI. Very soft and wholesome smut, cunnilingus, fingering, threesome, fluff, lots of feels, angst, confronting past trauma, sunflower trio being my absolute life force
Link to Chapter I
Link to Chapter II
A/N: I just realised the past chapters each took me like a month but I've been so much looking forward to writing this one that the words just kept flowing and... here we are.
I'll be honest, this might just be the most wholesome piece of writing I've ever penned down. It's got angst, fluff, really steamy and soft smut... just happy feels all around. I hope those of you who have been following this series (or are maybe just discovering it) enjoy reading it as much as I did bringing it to life 🖤
You turned and twisted in your bed, letting out a frustrated sigh as any hope of sleep kept eluding you. You tried to think of anything to wear out your mind, even resorting to reciting potion recipes at one point, though you knew it would be of no use. Whatever attempts you made, your thoughts kept drifting back to that big, nameless void deep inside you, plaguing you with doubt, making you ask the same questions over and over again.
It wasn’t that you had anything to be discontent with – far from it, in fact. Over the past few months, your relationship with Imelda and Poppy had steadily blossomed, giving you something new to appreciate almost every single day. You were enjoying each other so much, always spending time together after class, studying on the stands during Imelda’s trainings or laughing at each other as you took turns trying to catch a Diricawl. There had been the curious looks and the expected rumours, of course, but over time the general Hogwarts populace seemed to have accepted the idea that you were just really an odd bunch of close friends. It probably also helped that Imelda didn’t shy back from threatening to curse anyone who dared to speak as much as an ill word of Poppy – which had turned out to be a source of ample amusement between you and the Hufflepuff.
Hell, even your sex life didn’t leave much to be desired. Imelda had always been a feisty vixen, but having an audience seemed to have brought out an even wilder side of her that was capable of doing things you had never thought humanly possible. And that didn’t even include how much of a turn-on it was for you to have Poppy watch while you fucked each other senseless. Perhaps it had taken some getting used to, but nowadays it was weirder to not have her there than the other way around. Also, you had to admit it was kind of hot to have Imelda constantly snog you and pinch your arse in Poppy’s presence as a way of teasing you both. You were glad she was comfortable enough to be part of your dynamic like this, even though maybe it wasn’t as intimate as it could be.
So what was it then that was bothering you so much? Was there any way in which you had failed them? Was there anything you hadn’t been completely honest about, either to them or to yourself? Were you really happy with the way things had been going between you three?
Your thoughts were interrupted by a weight shifting onto your bed, sliding behind you under the sheets. You felt a firm presence pressing up to your back as an arm wrapped around your waist. A warm breath tickled your ear.
“Bad dreams?” you whispered, your words slipping into a smile.
“I figured you could do with some company,” replied Imelda. “I have a sense for these things, you know.”
“You’re so considerate,” you chuckled, snuggling closer against her. “Almost makes me think you’ve gone soft.”
“Right. The sacrifices I make,” She lifted her head, planting a soft kiss right below your ear. The physical relief grounded you, allowing you to focus on something other than your thoughts for a moment. “In all seriousness though, are you all right? I’ve noticed you’ve been a little out of it lately.”
So she had caught on too. You weren’t truly surprised, but you weren’t immediately eager to tell her the full truth either.
“I don’t know,” you said. “It’s probably nothing.”
Imelda snorted. “Yeah, you always say that when something’s up. You can talk to me, you know. I’m not actually allergic to feelings.”
Part of you wondered whether there was any use to making up an excuse, but then again, you weren’t sure why you were always so resistant to being open about your emotions either. It wasn’t like you were doing a very stellar job handling them yourself, after all.
You sighed, taking hold of her hand. “I suppose it’s just… Mel, do you think I’ve been doing the right thing?”
Imelda was quiet for a few seconds before answering. “Elaborate.”
“Well,” you said, turning over so you were facing her, “I tell myself that I’m happy, and I am, though I keep wondering… have I been taking the right approach? Isn’t there more I could do to make this easier for you two?”
She cocked an eyebrow. “You make it sound as if we didn’t want this as much as you do. We’re in this all together, MC.”
“I know that. It’s just… I suppose I feel responsible, in a way. I was the one who suggested we get together in the first place, and even though I know you wanted it as well… I can’t help but feel like I dragged you along in something that perhaps none of us were really ready for.”
Imelda was silent for another minute, turning your words over in her head. Soon enough though, she shrugged. “Maybe we were, maybe we weren’t. I don’t see why that matters now. We’re happy together, aren’t we?”
“I guess. But, you know, aren’t you slightly regretting that we never got to see where our relationship would have taken us?”
This time it took her a bit longer to answer. Her eyes darted down before meeting yours again. “No,” she said. “Like I told you, I don’t think it was a relationship I would have been happy with. And in fairness, I did take a risk on you the first time, so it wasn’t too big of a leap the second time around.”
Even though you had not truly expected her to harbour any regrets, it was still a relief to hear that Imelda wasn’t blaming you for anything. Noticing your pensive look, she brought a hand up and lightly touched your chin. “Hey, this was as much my choice as it was yours. It’s not some thrill thing I was after, if that’s what you’re thinking. I wanted to be a part of this because I love you, both of you.”
You smiled softly. “I’m glad. I… well, I hope Poppy feels the same way.”
“Of course. Why wouldn’t she?”
“Well… it’s just that I remember how big of a step it was for her to come out of her shell and even trust me… so I merely hope that I didn’t rush her into anything. I know that this must be more daunting for her than for either one of us.”
“I think you underestimate her,” Imelda countered. “For all the bad your little fuck-up did, it did bring us a lot closer together. After I talked her out of feeling guilty over what happened, she confessed how much she envied our relationship – you should have seen her face when I told her I wouldn’t mind if she started dating you as well. I think, letting her be a part of this – of us –, was the greatest gift you could have given her.”
“You really think so?” you asked, hesitatingly. “I don’t know… it feels like she’s still holding back sometimes. She only ever watches when we’re getting intimate, after all.”
“I thought you liked it when she watches,” Imelda replied, adding a playful smirk.
“Shut up,” you said, giving her a light shove. “You know what I mean.”
“Look, you just need to give her some time. Our relationship was all about sex before it turned into something more. I think she wants it to be more than that. She’ll come around when she feels ready to.”
“I suppose you have a point.” You knew she was right, actually; as tempting as it was to fret about all the things you could do better, you also knew that some things just couldn’t be rushed.
“Hey,” she said, touching your cheek to draw your gaze. “Stop worrying your pretty little head so much. We both see all the effort you’re putting into making this work. You just need to remember that you can’t keep carrying the entire world on your shoulders.”
“Yeah, I know,” you sighed, finding a new sense of strength in her assurance. “You’re right, as always.”
“Just you remember it.” She planted a tender kiss on your forehead. “Now, go to sleep. Nurse’s orders.”
You smiled as you turned over once more, wrapping yourself into her warm embrace. “Will you stay and hold me like this for a bit?”
“Of course. I’ll be here when you wake up.”
Soothed by her promise, you allowed yourself until the clutches of sleep were finally coming for you, carrying you away to darker depths. Imelda’s arms were like a comforting blanket, keeping you safe from the doubts and the anxieties, reminding you that sometimes all that mattered were the simple things in the world – and there was plenty for you to have.
––
The next morning, the two of you got dressed and headed out to the Great Hall to see Poppy, as usual. When you arrived, however, you noticed to your confusion that the Hufflepuff was neither sitting at the table with her housemates, nor waiting for you at the secluded spot you sometimes used for sneaky greeting kisses. You and Imelda looked around for a while before meeting back at the Slytherin table.
“You haven’t seen her either?” you asked.
Imelda shook her head. “Not at the usual places. I’ll go ask Adelaide, maybe she overslept.”
While your fellow Slytherin set out to inquire after Poppy’s whereabouts, you tried venturing some guesses of your own. You weren’t instantly assuming something was wrong – after all, she might have merely come down with something – but it was hard to ignore the voice nagging at the edge of her mind. It was difficult to imagine industrious Poppy Sweeting oversleeping, or being late to anything, for that matter.
Fortunately, Imelda returned with at least some news. “Adelaide says she left their dorm early this morning. Packed up a bunch of things and bolted without saying where she was going, apparently.”
It was as if a cold fist closed itself around your heart. “Oh Merlin,” you cursed. “I know where she’s headed.”
Imelda looked at you questioningly. “Care to fill me in?”
“There’s no time. We’ve got to get to the Forbidden Forest, now.”
She didn’t need another word; the urgency in your voice had told her all she needed to know. “We can use my broom,” she said, already starting towards the flying grounds. You followed close behind, desperately hoping that for Merlin’s sake, you wouldn’t be too late.
––
“Mind finally telling me what we’re looking for?” Imelda yelled over her shoulder. Beneath you, a sea of meadows and the occasional cluster of trees zipped by as you soared across the highlands. Your eyes were fixated on the perimeter of dark oaks held back by a small, meandering river, searching for any sign of life amongst the crooked trees.
“She should be around somewhere,” you yelled without looking away. “She often uses this stretch as a staging area! Look for Highwing!”
Imelda gave a small nod in understanding, leaning forward on her broom to accelerate. You were trying very hard to channel all your attention into finding Poppy, though even so, it was difficult not to feel upset at the entire situation. Why had she not mentioned anything to you or Imelda? Had she felt that she couldn’t trust you for some reason? It didn’t make sense – you had accompanied her many times before, so why had she decided to cut you off now?
Finally, you noticed a shift in Imelda’s trajectory as you started plunging downwards. Strengthening your grip on her waist, you peeked over her shoulder and noticed the welcome sight of a white Hippogriff against the tree line. Imelda made a dive right for the spot, not slowing down until you nearly crashed into the ground. You wasted no time in climbing off the broom and running towards Highwing. The creature lifted its head to look at you as you approached, emitting a single surprised-sounding squeak.
Imelda came to stand next to you. “So? Where is she?”
“She must have already entered the forest,” you concluded. “But she can’t have gotten far. Come, let’s find her.”
The two of you formed up in a single line and made your way into the forest. The trees quickly began closing in on you, forcing you to light your wands to make out your surroundings. You were at least thankful Poppy had made little effort to cover her tracks, leaving you the occasional small footprint in the mud to follow.
“I’ll tell you what, she could at least have found a more decent place to host a surprise party,” Imelda growled behind you.
“I’m just dying to know what’s gotten into her,” you sighed, shaking your head. “I knew she could be reckless, but she’s never blindsided me like this before. Why didn’t she at least tell us?”
“Perhaps because she predicted we would insist on coming with her? It’s not that complicated, you know.”
Your fist tightened around your wand. “Well, she didn’t have the right. She can’t just put her life on the line like this and expect us to do nothing.”
Driven by a sudden bout of anger, you were so caught up in your marching that you were a little thrown off when Imelda put a hand on your shoulder and forced you to stop. “Hey, I’m not saying that I disagree,” she said, looking you straight in the eye. “But remember to count to ten before you open your mouth. You don’t want to say anything you’ll come to regret later.”
The irony of Imelda Reyes telling you to cool it was not lost on you, though you ultimately knew her to be right. After all, you had made a promise, and you doubted whatever reason Poppy might have had for surprising you like this was worth jeopardising your relationship over.
You pushed her hand away, letting out a sigh. “Let’s just concentrate on finding her, all right? I just want to make sure she’s safe.”
Without waiting for her reply, you continued pushing forward. As you made your way deeper and deeper, you started to get increasingly worried about the possibility of something having happened to the Hufflepuff, though before you had any chance to properly panic, Imelda forced you to stop again.
“What is it now?” you asked, annoyance growing in your voice.
“Hush,” she hissed. “I heard something. It might be –”
Without warning, a bright flash shot right past your ear and struck a tree behind you. You immediately swivelled around, flinging a curse of your own in the direction the spell had come from. Unsure of whether you had hit your intended target, you and Imelda assumed an offensive position, wands pointed at your mysterious target.
“Whoever you are, you better come out before we blast you to pieces,” Imelda called out. You held your breath as you waited for a reply, the sound of your heart beating madly in your chest the only disturbance, though the response wasn’t exactly what you had expected.
“MC? Imelda?”
You lowered your wand with an audible sigh of relief as a small figure appeared from the trees. She pulled her hood back, revealing a pair of confused brown eyes. “What are you doing here?”
“What does it look like?” you responded, slightly more aggressive than you had intended. You felt Imelda throwing you a cautious glance, though she didn’t say anything. “What were you thinking, coming out here by yourself? You’re pursuing poachers again, aren’t you?”
“Would you please keep your voice down?” Poppy snapped back, the commanding tone in her voice catching you off guard. “They might have a patrol nearby. I’d rather not have you draw them straight towards us.”
After taking a minute to calm yourself, you nodded to signal to her that you were ready to behave. She took a deep breath and looked up to meet your eye. “Look, I meant to tell you, and I would have. But my window of opportunity was closing fast, and there was simply no time to ask you along, so I did what was necessary.”
“Why didn’t you at least let us know where you were going?” you asked. “It wouldn’t have been too difficult to leave us a message.”
“Because…” She hesitated, briefly, before proceeding, “Because I didn’t want to make it easy for you to follow me.”
So, there it was. She really had not wanted you to find her. But why? What was the reason for this stunning betrayal?
“Poppy, I don’t know why you think you can’t trust us, but –”
“You misunderstand,” Poppy said. “It’s not a matter of trust. It’s just that… this is something I needed to do on my own.”
“But we’re your friends. You can’t possibly expect us to –”
“I understand,” Imelda said.
You and Poppy immediately fell silent at the voice of the Slytherin. She looked straight at Poppy, leaning on her broom. “Really, I do,” she said. Obviously this is important to you, so much so that you felt you could only rely on yourself to handle it. I used to think the same for most of my life – only trusting myself, pushing away everyone because they would never be able to be as serious as I was. You might think of it as a strength, but it won’t feel that way when it really matters. I wish I had found that out for myself sooner.”
Rarely had you heard her speak with such a solemnity before – the last time, as far as you could remember, was that night when she had opened up about her feelings for you in the Slytherin common room. You knew her message was more directed at Poppy than you, of course, though that didn’t mean you were any less stirred by it.
You turned back to the Hufflepuff. “Please,” you urged, “we know it’s not for us to interfere. But at least allow us to protect you. It would destroy us to see you get hurt.”
At last, and to your great relief, Poppy nodded. “All right then. But we must be quick about it, and I would ask you to follow my lead at all times.”
“Of course.” You were pretty sure you would have agreed to any condition at this point; so relieved you were that she had at last decided to put her faith in you.
You resumed your journey together, Poppy in front, Imelda behind. You walked in silence for a while, keeping your ears peeled for any unnatural sounds from the forest around you. After a few moments, Poppy slowed her pace to allow you to catch up with her.
“I would have told you, truly,” she whispered.
“I know,” you replied. “I’m sorry I reacted so harshly. I was just worried sick about you.”
A spark of gratitude shimmered in her eyes. “To be perfectly honest, I was already having regrets from the moment I departed the castle. For what it’s worth, I was relieved to see you both, even if I didn’t say as much at the time.”
“Well, all of that doesn’t matter now. We’re in this together. And we will always look out for you, no matter what.”
That being said, you couldn’t help but feel some lingering uncertainty about her lack of elaboration. You thought back to the conversation you’d had with Imelda last night, the reservations you’d expressed about Poppy’s part in your relationship. You figured it would at least be worth prodding a little.
“By the way,” you said, “if for whatever reason you feel as if you need to prove something to Imelda and me –”
Poppy shook her head. “Oh no, that’s not it at all. My motivations are strictly personal, as with the other times… it’s simply about righting wrongs. Making up for the destruction my parents have wrought.”
You felt an instant pang of sympathy. At the same time, you knew it would be useless to try convincing her that her parents’ choices weren’t in any way her fault, having had that conversation many times before. So instead, you asked, “Clearly this time is different, though. This isn’t some simple rescue mission, is it?”
Poppy hesitated before replying, “I… I managed to intercept a communication a few days ago. I had been tracking this group for a while, so I easily deduced that it must have come from them. But the peculiar thing was that the note bore a seal I recognised – it was the same seal stamped on several letters my Gran kept at her home. That’s when I realised… the seal meant that this particular group was affiliated with my parents.”
Your eyes widened at the discovery. “That’s…” you said, trying to find the right words, “does that mean –”
Poppy shook her head. “They never stayed long with any group. They were a paranoid lot, rightfully so – always worried someone would tell on them or try to steal their… ‘merchandise’. But that doesn’t mean I have any less of an obligation to burn every trace of them to the ground.”
The belligerent fire in her voice may have surprised Imelda, but not you; at last you understood. This was not some heroic effort, or even a selfless rescue mission, for that matter. Poppy was here to bring cold vengeance – and you were merely along for the ride.
After trekking through some more miles of dense forest, the three of you finally reached the edge of the poacher compound. You managed to find a secluded spot up on an elevated stretch of terrain that allowed you a good look at the camp’s layout. Beckoning you closer, Poppy pointed out the difficulties you would face in your approach. “See how they’ve clustered all the cages at the centre? Very clever – they’ve made sure to cover every path leading into the camp. It’s most likely that their patrols are randomised as well, so even if one were to be able to sneak past their defences and get to the animals, they’d almost certainly be caught if they tried to make their way out.”
“Doesn’t seem like they want to make it any easier for us,” you grumbled. “So, what is your plan? We can’t exactly go in wands blazing.”
“Quite simple now that you’re here, actually. We cause a distraction.”
“But how? You just said they will be able to see us coming from every direction.”
“But not from the sky,” said Imelda.
You assumed she was merely trying to lighten the mood at first, but when you saw her clutching her broom with an all too familiar look in her eyes, you honestly wished she had been. “Don’t even think about it,” you said firmly as you shook your head, “it’s far too dangerous –”
“No more dangerous than if we were to storm in there together,” Imelda countered. “It makes perfect sense. I can swoop in and out before they even realise what hit them, which should give you enough time to release the beasts and make your escape.”
“But there must be some other way,” you maintained. “You can’t be out there risking your neck all by yourself –”
“Be realistic, MC, it’s not like we have the luxury of being picky here,” Imelda snapped back, her tone growing more annoyed. “It’s the best option we have right now. You know that they won’t be able to catch me as long as I stay on my broom. I won’t take any unnecessary risks.”
You knew she made sense, of course; even Poppy conveyed as much by not saying anything. You sighed before conceding. “All right. But at the first hint of trouble, you turn back and get to safety. Don’t try to pull off any stupid heroics.”
She didn't say anything, which you supposed was as good as you would get from her. After exchanging one more look with you both, Imelda turned around and snuck away through the bushes.
The two of you turned back to spying on the compound, trying to find the best route for approaching. As the gravity of the situation finally started weighing down on your shoulders, though, you couldn’t help but keep looking up at the sky now and then, anxious to see a sign of Imelda.
Perhaps in an effort to calm your nerves, Poppy said, “She’s a very brave soul, that one.”
“I don’t know if it’s so much brave as reckless,” you sighed. “I truly hope she’s not going to try anything stupid.”
Poppy placed a hand on your wrist. “She’s as safe as she can be up there. We will be facing the greatest risk – we will need to be ready as soon as she launches her distraction.”
“You’re right,” you nodded, grateful that the Hufflepuff at least had a better sense of mind than you did. “Just… let’s try to be swift about this, all right? I know how much this means to you, but I don’t want you to get hurt.”
You were afraid to look at her, expecting to see that vengeful flame burning in her eyes, though a wave of relief washed over you when you saw a familiar sparkle of innocence. She flashed you a soft smile, briefly touching your cheek. “Don’t worry, I won’t try anything rash. I… I’m glad I’m not facing this alone, MC.”
Before you could respond, you heard a loud screeching sound, followed by a blast that nearly knocked you off your feet. You turned just in time to see one of the tents exploding in a large ball of fire, a barely visible shadow shooting through the black fumes.
“Well, she certainly didn’t waste any time,” you cursed under your breath. “Let’s move!”
And so you set off, using the cover of the distraction to make your approach. Imelda reduced a few more tents to ashes as you slipped through the bushes and past the makeshift fortifications, which were quickly all abandoned. The poachers had devolved into a complete state of disarray, shouts of panic and rage filling the air as shadows sped past you, paying no attention to you at all.
You managed to reach the cases without too much trouble, only having had to dispatch one stray trapper with a Body-Bind Curse. Poppy quickly turned to you, holding out her hand. “There’s no time to catch them all. Hand me the Nabsack, I’ll rescue the weakest while you set the other ones free.”
You nodded in understanding, conjuring the bag and throwing it over to Poppy. After you split up, you hurried over to the cage holding the Mooncalves, pointing your wand at the lock and disposing of it with a well-aimed Unlocking Charm. As you watched the quirky creatures practically jump over each other in their rush to escape, your thoughts returned to your girls, wondering how they were faring. Your heart was pumping rapidly, adrenaline flowing through your veins, panic threatening to overwhelm you at every turn. Something was wrong. You hadn’t heard anything from Imelda since she had attacked the camp, and freeing the animals was taking far too much time for your liking. You should return to Poppy and make your escape; you couldn’t allow yourselves to get caught.
No, you thought, slapping some sense into yourself. Your collective success depended as much on you as the others; the best way you could protect your friends was by moving fast, and ceasing this meaningless maelstrom of dread.
So you set about finishing your mission, moving from cage to cage, opening the doors without wasting a single second. The risk of being caught at any moment pressed on your mind, though you simply ignored it, not allowing yourself to fall victim to your own hesitance.
At last, you reached the final cage, which contained a large Thestral and a smaller one – presumably a family. You removed the lock with a flick of your wand and pushed the door open, but the mature Thestral didn’t budge, merely looking at you before she went back to nursing her calf.
“Well, come on then,” you hissed, beckoning the pair. After your call went unanswered again, you moved into the cage, trying to see what was wrong. You had to circle a few times before you finally noticed the calf was limping; approaching cautiously, you discerned a large gash running down one of its hind legs.
“Animals,” you growled under your breath. The wound did not seem to run deep, though you had no way of knowing whether it was infected, and you lacked the expertise to apply any sort of treatment. Poppy would need to have a look, but this meant that you would need to find a way to get the creatures out of here, fast.
Aiming your wand, you stood back and tried to get the larger Thestral’s attention. “Step away,” you said, hoping at least your meaning would get through. But the mother was defiant, letting out a snort as she refused to leave her young.
“Listen, I wish to help you,” you tried again, enunciating each word. “But you have to step aside so I can move your young one.”
Still no response. Well, this clearly wasn’t working. Seeing as you had no other option, you pocketed your wand and strode over to the small Thestral. The mother eyed you warily, but you gently placed your hands on the black leathery skin to make your intentions plain. “See, I mean you no harm. Please let me help.”
You saw your reflection captured in the misty orbs, nostrils flaring, though there was no protest as you moved to lift the calf from the ground. The young was heavy, but you somehow managed to pick its delicate body up in your arms, carefully adjusting your hands so as not to inflict any needless discomfort. The mother followed close behind as you began carrying the creature out of the cage. By now most of the compound was covered in thick black smoke, obscuring any landmarks you might have been able to use to find your way back, so you simply kept pressing forward, hoping you wouldn’t run into any poachers. Every once in a while a yell in the distance would cause you to increase your pace, gritting your teeth against the weight of the body in your arms, which started to feel even heavier with every passing minute.
Finally, you reached a clearing which you seemed to recall connecting to one of the entrances of the camp. You hurried along, ignoring the wailing Thestral in your arms, feeling the breath of its mother down your neck. Just a few more meters… almost in the clear… you would have to –
“Stop right there!”
A red curse shot right over your head, causing you to freeze in your tracks. A gravelly voice called out to you, “Looks like I caught myself an intruder. Are you just going to leave without saying goodbye, you little pest?”
Turning around slowly, you faced the poacher, the mother Thestral taking shelter behind your back. You sensed her anxiety, the sound of her rapid breathing and the silent cries of the young filling you with rage. You wouldn’t have minded an opportunity to renovate this brute’s face with a Blasting Curse, though unfortunately you were unable to reach your wand like this.
“I already suspected you were just a bunch of pitiful vermin,” the poacher scoffed, keeping his wand aimed at your chest. “Where are your friends? Ran off back to school?”
“Like I’d ever tell someone as vile and cruel as you,” you spit back. “You’ve lost. We’ve released every single one of the creatures you took back into the wild, where they belong.”
The poacher’s expression hardened, a scowl etched into a solid rock. “Creatures can be recaptured. You, on the other hand –” he lifted his wand – “I think we’ll just have to write you off.”
Your sense of time eluded you, slowing down every single movement. An almost serene tranquillity washed over you as you watched the poacher prepare to kill all three of you with one simple incantation. This wasn’t supposed to happen. You hadn’t made peace with your fate yet, not really; after all, there was so much more of your life to live, so much to be explored. There was Imelda, fierce and brave like the valkyries of old tales, and Poppy, sweet Poppy with her kind heart and her majestic strength. Would they be able to live on without you? They would still have each other, after all, but it was hard to imagine anyone living with that kind of hole in their heart…
Just as you braced yourself for the green flash and the light to disappear before your eyes, then, suddenly a different voice cried out, “Expulso!”
The poacher managed to deflect the curse just in time, but was nevertheless forced backwards by the sheer power behind it. From the black curtain at the edge of the clearing emerged Poppy, clenching her wand, her eyes blazing with a kind of fury you had never seen before.
“Leave them alone, you bastard!” she yelled.
The poacher, having recovered from Poppy’s surprise attack, bared his teeth. “Well, if it isn’t little Poppy Sweeting, all grown up. You must be a special kind of foolish to come back here, girl.”
The Hufflepuff didn’t back down. “I’ve sat by and watched all of you inflict your terror upon innocent beings long enough. I’m not going to let you hurt my friend as well.”
They began circling each other, Poppy moving in front of you and the Thestrals. You contemplated grabbing your wand to come to her aid, but you feared any unexpected moves would only provoke your adversary.
“Your parents were right about you,” the poacher said. “Such a disappointment you grew up to be. If you were of my own blood, I would have put you down where you stood.”
The fire in Poppy’s eyes grew stronger. Tears burned in their cores. But her voice was powerful, never once breaking under the strain of countless emotions.
“Disowning me was the kindest thing my parents have ever done for me,” she spoke. “I was nothing but another piece of merchandise to them, ready to be cast aside the moment I no longer wanted to serve your evil purposes. I won’t allow you to carry on their hateful legacy, even if I have to destroy every last bit.”
“If only you fought as well as you talked. Let’s see it if you’re willing to do what it takes, then.” the poacher growled, and with the last word he flung a spell at her, which she barely managed to parry. She immediately followed up with a curse of her own, though he was quick to deflect it.
“Pathetic!” he yelled. “Come on – fight me like you mean it!”
Another exchange of spells lit up the clearing. Poppy held her own, but the poacher was better. You felt so useless watching her, wishing there was some way you could offer her help, but you couldn’t risk the Thestrals’ lives.
A Blasting Curse forced the small Hufflepuff backwards, nearly knocking her over. She was panting heavily, trying to keep her wand steady, keeping her eyes on her foe. Merlin, you couldn’t bear to watch this much longer –
“You were never able to do what’s necessary!” the poacher yelled. “You’re a pathetic, weak little girl, and I will break you like a twig –”
But then it happened. Poppy changed, transformed almost, the fire in her eyes spreading to envelop all of her body. Your breathing shallowed as you regarded her in all her furious glory; she was no longer a shy, small girl, but a stunning young woman, exuding all the power of a fierce warrior.
“Enough!” she screamed, and she unleashed a barrage of spells on the poacher, her wand becoming an invisible blur as it flicked up and down, firing off curse after curse. Eyes bulging, the man tried deflecting her attack, but then let out a cry of rage as a spell hit him squarely across the chest. He stumbled backwards and gripped the front of his robe, his eyes merely red orbs as he looked up at the Hufflepuff. “You’ll pay for that, you miserable –”
“Hey, arsehole!” came a voice from above. “Fire in the hole!”
The poacher’s roar was lost in a massive blast as the ground behind him exploded, the impact sending mud and patches of grass flying everywhere. You weren’t particularly eager to wait for him to get up again, so you snapped out of your reverie and yelled for Poppy. The girl seemed to return to her old self again as she blinked and quickly pocketed her wand, rushing to help you. “Wait, let me –”
She took the Nabsack and caught both of the Thestrals, finally allowing you some relief. Your breath was not to be wasted on talking, though. She grabbed you by your elbow and the two of you started running away from the compound, not looking back for one second, expecting to hear the yelling of pursuing poachers any moment. Your heart stopped when a large shadow fell over you, panic quickly turning to elation when you saw its owner.
“Highwing!”
The Hippogriff let out a triumphant cry, swiftly striking down a few meters ahead of you. Poppy quickly mounted her and pulled you up, and before you knew it you were safely up in the sky, the traces of black smoke behind you slowly shrinking on the horizon as you glided across the sea of dark leaves.
You relished in the feeling of the soft breeze against your cheeks, your heartbeat slowly assuming its normal rhythm. When you noticed neither of you had said anything ever since you escaped, you softly tapped Poppy on her shoulder. “Hey, are you all right?”
To your relief, you noticed the innocent spark had returned to her eyes, though it almost was as if something was different about it – it seemed brighter, more alive.
“I couldn’t be better,” she smiled. “Thank you.”
You were suddenly interrupted by a laugh, and Poppy you and both turned to see Imelda flying next to you, looking as if she had just come straight off a victorious Quidditch match. “Let’s fucking go!” she yelled, slapping her broom. “We properly kicked their arses, didn’t we?”
Chuckling, you concluded, “I suppose we make a pretty good team.”
“I’d say we do,” Poppy replied, her sweet laugh filling the skies.
––
“There, good as new.”
The Hufflepuff stepped back from the Thestral calf, which curiously sniffed at the new cast around its leg. It tried walking a few steps, and then suddenly burst forward, frolicking joyfully around the bog as its mother kept a watchful eye.
“Looks like we’re not the only ones with an appreciation for your talents,” you chuckled as you observed the peaceful scene, leaning against one of the trees with your arms crossed. Poppy tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and smiled at you. “I’m just glad I could help. You did all the heavy lifting, quite literally.”
“What can I say, I was glad to do my part,” you shrugged. She grinned sheepishly before suddenly being alerted by the loud croaking of one of the Giant Purple Toads. Swivelling on her feet, she let out a cry of surprise. “Oh no, naughty girl! You can’t eat Walter!”
You could hardly resist the temptation of a giggle as Poppy hurried after the calf, who was now happily chasing the toad through the vivarium. Tearing your gaze away from the hilarious sight for a moment, you noticed Imelda approaching through the entrance, dressed in casual attire like the rest of you.
“No need to worry about our absences today,” she reported once she reached you. “I told Kogawa I had you two help out with a special Quidditch training. She scolded me for not clearing it with her beforehand, but I think she bought it.”
“That’s the second time you rescued us from certain demise today,” you laughed. “There is such a thing as overdoing it, you know.”
“Oh, shut up. You love it when I get to act cocky.” She wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close. You smiled as she kissed your cheek. “In fairness, you weren’t so bad yourself,” she said.
“Hm? Had any more ‘interesting’ thoughts while you watched me give it to those big bad poachers?
“Honestly? I was more concerned you would end up getting yourself killed by accident. But I’m glad you had enough luck to pull through.”
“Yeah, fuck you too.”
You shared a chuckle between yourselves. Leaning her head on your shoulder, Imelda looked at Poppy, who was shepherding the excited Thestral calf back to its mother. “I will say, that feisty badger… never knew she had that side to her. She was like a Hungarian Horntail out there.”
“I don’t think she ever meant for us to see that side,” you said. “Though I’m glad that we did. It takes a lot of courage to face down your past like that. And yet she never showed anything but strength… everything around her seemed much less real, as if she was the only thing that truly made sense.”
Imelda gave you a sideward glance. “Sounds like you have a little crush on her.”
You smiled back. “Don’t you?”
At last, Poppy returned. A vibrant, healthy glow made her face seem almost ethereal, and she flashed you that particular kind of toothy smile that made you feel warm and fuzzy in your stomach. “Imelda! I’m so glad you’re with us again.”
“I couldn’t leave you alone with MC for too long, now, could I,” Imelda grinned. “How are our new guests settling in?”
“Oh, they’re doing just wonderful! The injured creatures are all patched up and should be back on their feet soon. The Thestral is an excited little rascal, though, so I merely hope she doesn’t exert herself too much before we are able to remove the cast.” She skipped a beat before adding sheepishly, “Of course, they all have you both to thank.”
“Don’t be silly,” Imelda retorted. “They’d still be stuck in their predicament if it wasn’t for you. We just did what you told us to do.”
Poppy gingerly rubbed her elbow. “Even so, I can’t ignore what you have done for me. You put yourself in harm’s way, risked your lives… all for me.”
“Of course,” you said. “There’s no way we would have let you face this alone. We share a bond. Wherever you go, we go.”
When she looked up to you again, you seemed to notice just the flimsiest mist of tears in her eyes. You couldn’t exactly fault her; a strong sense of love was filling you as well, making you feel tingly all over.
“I admit… seeing you two display so much bravery… makes me want to be brave as well,” she said, her voice solemn. “I’ve given this much thought, but I now feel that my heart is ready. So, I have one more request to make of you.”
You felt your chest tightening. Was this really…? Could it be…?
“Name it,” said Imelda, who hardly sounded any less excited than you were. Poppy stepped forward, taking Imelda’s hand in one hand, and yours in the other. She looked at you both, her gaze filled with love.
“I would like for you… to be my firsts,” she said.
Merlin, you couldn’t have been more ecstatic even if you tried. At last she was ready to become even closer to you, to give all of herself to the both of you. Understanding the solemnity of her wish, you cast a look at Imelda, who returned your gesture with a grin.
“Well, I suppose we can’t really say no to that,” you smiled. “Will we do it… now?”
“Might be as good a time as any,” Imelda said with a nonchalant shrug. “Who cares about school, am I right?”
Poppy let out a nervous giggle. “I would very much like for it to happen now. I can’t bear to wait any longer… I want to be with you.”
“All right then,” you nodded, elation adding to excitement. “Though we probably should find a more private place. I know I said I like audiences, but…”
“Say no more,” Imelda said, letting go of Poppy’s hand to lead the way back to the vivarium entrance, “I know just the spot!”
You looked back at the Hufflepuff, meeting her gaze. “Shall we?”
She nodded eagerly, which elicited a chuckle from you. So pure, so innocent she was – you could hardly wait until you would be able to explore her in all her precious, bare glory.
Taking her by the hand, you led her out of the vivarium, following Imelda towards the bedroom on the other side of your Room of Requirement.
“I’m so glad you decided to share yourself with us,” you said.
Poppy smiled softly. “I confess I feel a little nervous, but I’m also relieved. Before, it would always feel like I was intruding on you two while you… you know. I suppose that’s what made it exciting. But I realised that I wanted more, and now I know that I have nothing to fear with both of you around.”
“Of course not.” You leaned over to whisper to her. “To be perfectly honest, I’ve wanted you ever since that first kiss.”
The revelation made her tremble with delight. You couldn’t resist a mischievous smile, squeezing her hand affectionately. This was going to be better than you could have ever imagined.
You walked into the large bedroom together as Imelda went around lighting the candles with her wand. A flick of your own wand made the deep blue curtains of the four-poster bed slide open, the altar of your imminent bonding revealing itself in all its glory. You felt Poppy’s grip tightening at its sight.
“We don’t have to rush it,” you assured her. “How about I start kissing you and we’ll see where that takes us?”
She looked up at you with a deep blush blooming on her cheeks. “I-I’d like that very much.”
You smiled as you gently cupped her face, dipping your head to reach her lips. You started slow, like always, giving her ample opportunity to set her own pace, though once you sensed she was ready for more you let the tip of your tongue slip through to press for entrance. She parted her lips, a sigh melting into your warmth before your tongue slid into her mouth.
Merlin, she tasted so sweet. Her moves were a bit hesitant, and the way she awkwardly danced around your tongue betrayed more than a fair amount of inexperience, though the passion with which she latched onto you made more than up for it. She emitted a cute little whimper when you closed your lips around her tongue, causing the corners of your mouth to rise up into a smile.
“Well, look what we have here,” a familiar voice purred. “You weren’t thinking of keeping her all to yourself, were you, MC?”
You begrudgingly broke off to see Imelda standing next to you, arms crossed. You didn’t really want to stop; it was so much fun to kiss Poppy. If the Slytherin hadn’t stopped you, you might have just ended up devouring her.
But you knew you had to play fair. Sharing was caring, and besides, it seemed like there was plenty of Poppy to go around. So you gave her away, enjoying the longing gaze in her lovely brown eyes before she turned her attention to her other lover. There was not a single shred of envy or jealousy in your heart as you watched them start to make out. You relished the way Imelda closed her eyes and slightly twisted her head to have better access as she draped her arms around Poppy’s neck; the way Poppy moved her hands to Imelda’s hips as she moaned softly, a sign of her growing confidence. It was like witnessing the sprouting of a seed you had planted a long ago; the blossoming of a beautiful sunflower.
The whole experience was perfectly topped off with a surprised yelp from Poppy when Imelda slapped her perky arse. You shook your head, laughing. “Never been one to behave yourself, have you, Miss Reyes?”
“Can’t fault a woman for having good taste,” she retorted. “Now come here, you.”
You didn’t have to be told twice. Surrendering yourself to her embrace, Imelda rewarded you with the steamiest kiss she’d ever given you, chewing on your bottom lip as if she were trying to draw blood. After you separated and affectionately held each other for a little bit, you were eager to get back to Poppy. She gingerly pulled the tie from her neck, dropping the garment on the ground.
“Here, allow me,” you said, stepping up to her to help her with her blouse. You noticed just how tense she was as you started undoing the buttons.
“Hey, look at me.” You lifted her chin with your finger. “You needn’t be ashamed. You’ve seen us naked before, haven’t you?”
“I know,” she replied, flashing an apologetic smile. “It’s just the nerves. I’ve never shown myself to someone else like this.”
You tenderly kissed her forehead. “You’re gorgeous. I can’t wait to see all of you.”
Reassured by your compliment, she allowed you to proceed, shivering a little as the white fabric slipped off her bare shoulders. How delicate she looked; your gaze wandered down from the light dusting of freckles on her shoulders to her small chest, encased in a yellow lace bra. Figuring you needed to take a few more minutes to put her at ease first, you removed your own blouse before kissing her again, tracing a line from the corner of her mouth to the upper end of her jaw. She sighed with every brush of your lips, whispering a quiet “Yes…” when your hands travelled from her hips to her back. Her arms instinctively shot up to shield her chest when you unclasped her bra, but then she lowered them, and the garment fell away.
Poppy’s breasts were a sight to behold. They were smaller than Imelda’s, though they had a cute perkiness to them that you found hard to resist. She nodded shyly when you asked for permission to touch them, letting out a gasp when you cupped one of the supple globes, rolling the rosy nipple between your fingers.
“I might have a hard time controlling myself like this,” you chuckled. “You’re such a sweet little treat.”
“I agree,” Imelda said, suddenly appearing next to you. She reached out and took hold of Poppy’s other breast, forcing a tiny squeak out of her as she started fondling the soft mound. You smiled as you watched her respond to your combined touch, her breathing quickly picking up.
“Does this feel good?” you asked her, kissing the tip of her ear.
“Yes…” she whimpered, “it does…”
“I know something that’ll feel even better,” Imelda said, before sinking to her knees and leaning in, closing her lips around the nipple. This drew an audible moan from Poppy, her forehead creasing as the Slytherin suckled on her breast. “Oh, oh… Imelda…”
Hearing your one lover moan the name of your other in desperate bliss was enough reason for you to follow Imelda’s example. You knelt next to her and stuck out your tongue, wetting the hard bud before taking it between your teeth. Soon you had the Hufflepuff panting both of your names as she nursed you, the two of you gently purring against her warm bosom.
After a few minutes of licking and tugging, Imelda let her treat go with a wet ‘plop’ and rose to give Poppy a long, seductive French kiss. She then pulled you up and repeated the gesture, letting her dark gaze wander from you to Poppy, a mischievous smile tugging at her lips. “I can already say this is the hottest thing I have ever done,” she laughed, before leaning over to you. Her husky whisper never failed to make you feel weak in the knees. “I think I’ll hang back for a little bit. Why don’t you warm her up for me, dear?”
There was no way you could ever have said no to that, especially if it meant getting to have Poppy to yourself for a few minutes. But first things first. You reached back and unclasped your own bra, wasting no time in bridging the short gap between you and Poppy to press your tits together, catching her moan with your lips as you did. The feeling of her body was even better than you had imagined; you felt her heart beating inside of her chest, her flushed skin rubbing against yours. Your hands sneaked around to her arse, not able to resist a quick squeeze as you moved together.
When you pulled back, you couldn’t help but notice she was once again very entranced by the sight of your breasts. She looked up at you questioningly. “May I… touch them?”
“Yes please,” you smiled. “Tonight is all about you, baby girl.”
The use of the pet name did not fail to elicit another shudder from her. She reached up to place one of her small hands on your full breast. Her movements were more like groping than a soft fondle, though you didn’t mind either way, softly cooing as she played with your tits.
Eventually, you slipped your hands down, fingers hooking into the band of her skirt. Poppy froze, though she didn’t protest either, giving you her silent approval. You slipped the piece of clothing down her thighs, baring more yellow lace inch by inch. You were delighted to find a sizeable moist patch at the location of her slit.
“I see you’re already very wet for us,” you complimented her. “Very good.”
A flush swept up from her neck to her cheeks, colouring her freckles a delightful shade of red. Sinking to your knees once more, you started planting open-mouthed kisses in the valley between her breasts, slowly trailing down the light curve of her torso. You kissed around her belly button, then moved down to her thighs, covering them in small pecks as you looked up into her half-lidded eyes. Her breath was shallow, her chest rising in a quick rhythm as you tended to the sensitive skin. You felt her muscles tighten as you inched closer to her throbbing core, though you weren’t ready to go there just yet. Standing up, you took her hand.
“Are you ready for the next part?” you whispered, your lips hovering close to hers.
She nodded eagerly.
“Good.” Smiling, you led her to the bed, where you slowly pushed her down on her back. You took a moment to admire her as she lay there, your precious angel of innocence, chestnut hair spread out around her head, clad in nothing but her yellow underwear and her black knee-high socks. Merlin, she was so precious, so perfectly sculpted in every way. You were so lucky to be with her like this.
You made a show of stripping out of your skirt and throwing it aside with a flourish, causing her to giggle. Then you climbed on top of her, giving her a slow kiss before you put a finger on her lips, tracing down to her chin.
“Are you all right, baby girl?”
“Very much so,” Poppy smiled. “I had no idea it would feel like this. I’m feeling all warm and tingly inside.”
You let out a chuckle. “It’s going to feel even better soon, I promise. But first, I’d like to touch you some more.”
Meeting with her approval, you settled against her side and started to tenderly stroke her arm, leaving a trail of goosebumps in your wake. You were content just lying with her like this for a while, watching the steady rising and falling of her breasts, counting the small imperfections in her skin as you petted her. You loved the way she squirmed when you drew circles around her nipple.
“I’m the luckiest girl in the world right now, you know?” you whispered to her. She bit her lip as she looked at you from the corner of her eye. “Y-yeah?”
“Mhm. Getting to pamper you like this, showing how much I care for you,” you nuzzled the crook of her neck, “giving you all the love you deserve.”
She made a sound like a small whimper.
“Because you do,” you continued. “You deserve to be loved, and cared for, and cherished –” you planted a little kiss on her temple – “to the end of your days.”
It was not so much a spell to arouse her as a sincere promise. The events of today had only solidified your resolve; you weren’t certain what the future held, or what your life after Hogwarts would look like, though you knew it was one you would share with Imelda and Poppy. Whatever doubts or differences may have existed between you had fallen away, becoming part of a past you no longer cared for; all that mattered was right here beside you, melting away under your loving touch.
Your fingers travelled across the soft landscape of her belly to her thighs, caressing every bit of skin you happened to come across. Feeling you so close to the dripping pit between her legs must have shocked her out of her trance, for she suddenly looked up at you. “What about Imelda?”
You locked eyes with the Slytherin, who so far had seemed very content with just watching the two of you. She had taken one of her breasts out and was twisting and pulling the dark nipple, licking her lips as she pleasured herself.
“What about her?” you asked.
“Will she… you know…” Her blush darkened. “Eat my pussy?”
It was a little jarring to hear such vulgar a word from the usually proper Hufflepuff’s lips, though then you smiled to reassure her. “Of course, baby girl. But first I need to spread you open nice and wide to prepare you for her. All right?”
She nodded softly. “Will it… hurt?”
“You’ve touched yourself before, so you shouldn’t feel any pain. You might feel a little fuller than normal, though, so I’ll go slow and you can tell me when you’re ready for me to go further, okay?”
“O-okay…” She offered you a thankful smile. “Thank you for being so considerate.”
“No need to thank me.” You pecked her lips. “Now, be a good girl and lift your hips for me.”
She did as you requested, raising her pelvis to allow you to work her underwear down her thighs. Poor angel; already you could tell she was so painfully swollen that you were honestly surprised she wasn’t crying out for your relief yet. Her pussy was like a perfect red flower, lips gleaming with slick desire. You discovered she had kept her landscaping in order as well, observing the most adorable patch of fuzzy brown hair above her fleshy hood.
You indulged the temptation of tracing a few teasing circles around her folds, delighting in the way her flesh quivered under your fingertips. You had no intention of making her wait any longer than necessary, though. She gasped as you finally put your middle finger at her entrance, hazel eyes shooting up to look at you as her hands gripped the sheets.
“Are you ready, my love?”
She yielded her assent before her mouth fell open and her eyes widened. “Oh, Merlin!”
She was tight. Very tight. Her walls clung to you from the moment you pushed into her, practically sucking you further inside her velvety depths. You fought the urge to go all the way, instead occupying yourself with brushing away the strands of hair that were matted to her forehead. You smiled when she opened your eyes to you. “Is it… all the way in?”
“Not yet,” you said. “You’re doing very good so far. Are you ready to take more of me?”
Blessed with her nod, you pushed even further, feeling her walls tighten around your digit as you just kept sliding and sliding into her throbbing heat. You supposed she had never used more than one finger judging by how she had a little difficulty accommodating you. Her uninhibited flow of juices helped ease you along though, and soon you sank in to the knuckle, holding perfectly still for a moment as you allowed her to adjust.
“There you go,” you cooed to her. “I’m inside of you, baby girl. How does it feel?”
She slightly shifted her hips, groaning through her teeth. “It definitely feels a bit fuller than normal. I can feel you stretching me out. It’s a good kind of feeling, though.”
“I’m glad.” You placed another kiss on her temple. “I’m going to start moving now. Tell me if at any time you want me to stop.”
You waited a few seconds before you started withdrawing, alert for any reactions from her. It wasn’t made any easier by the fact that her cunny was very much trying to keep you in place, but you persisted nonetheless, and thankfully Poppy didn’t seem to be experiencing much discomfort. She had closed her eyes again, mouthing your name over and over as you withdrew up until your fingernail, then started pushing back in again.
Seeing as she didn’t say anything, you soon ventured further. Starting with tender strokes, you commenced pumping, wet sopping sounds mixing with her moaning. The change of pace was enough to lure Imelda, who soon joined you at the other side of Poppy, propping herself up on her elbow.
“Look at our precious little thing,” she chuckled, lightly stroking Poppy’s arm. “How does she feel, MC?”
“Oh, very snug,” you smiled back. “But we’re getting her all nicely stretched out for you, aren’t we Poppy?”
She nodded with pursed lips, lacking the words to muster a response. Imelda kissed her cheek, hovering close to her ear, “I can’t wait to feel you on my tongue. I wonder if you taste as sweet as you look.”
That coaxed another whimper out of her, her pussy twitching around your finger as you kept bottoming out. You noticed her lips moving, trying to whisper something to you.
You leaned in closer. “Yes, my love…?”
“More…” she murmured, “please…”
You had not expected the request so soon, though on the other hand, you were hardly in any position to decline. You freed up your index finger, swirling around her clit before you added to the finger already pushing inside of her, stretching her slick little lips even further. By now Poppy was coming properly undone, letting out a high-pitched whine before Imelda smothered her mouth with her own.
You settled into a steady but forceful pace, eager to induce her release. As you watched her body move on the rhythm of your fingering, your thoughts drifted back to past times, all the adventures you had been through together. Just a few years ago, it seemed like such an unlikely pairing; a serpent and a badger, strangers meeting by some weird twist of fate. And yet, as it had turned out, you were more similar than you could have ever realised. Both burdened by a fate that was greater than you, having to find your way in a hostile world. You were grateful for Imelda too, of course, and there was no vision of the future that didn’t include you three sticking together. But the shy, brave Hufflepuff had stolen your heart from the day you met her in that afternoon Beast class.
And here she was, grown into a beautiful young woman, ready to cum at a twist of your fingers. Once more, you leaned closer to her, your breath warmly rolling across her face, “I want you to come for me now, baby girl. Come, come for us, show us what a good girl you are…”
As to stress your command, you used your thumb to press down on her clit, making her back arch off the bed. She let out a short series of hiccups, her heat growing almost impossibly tight around you before she slowly relaxed again. You carefully removed your fingers from her folds, essence that had been plugged up spilling out as you did. You brought your fingertips up to your mouth to taste her, only to find yourself surprised when she grabbed your hand and cleaned herself off you instead.
You smiled, kissing her moist lips. “You did so well, baby. Now, are you ready for Imelda to slide her tongue inside you?”
“I am, but just give me a minute,” Poppy replied, giving you a crooked smile. “I think you might have done just a little too good of a job warming me up.”
“Of course she did,” Imelda huffed. “MC always ends up breaking things because she can’t contain herself.”
“Are we sure we aren’t talking about someone else here?” you laughed.
“I don’t know what you’re on about.” Imelda got up and crawled over to the end of the bed, positioning herself between Poppy’s legs. “Everyone knows I never fuck up.”
“Right. You’re definitely fucking something else, though.”
“Don’t fight now, please,” Poppy interjected. “I’m sure you both have something better to attend to.”
You and Imelda shared an amused look before you broke out into a burst of lighthearted laughter. “Sounds like our girl has gotten a bit of an attitude,” Imelda said, lips breaking into a mischievous smirk. “I suppose we should do something about that, huh?”
You slightly worried this meant she would go a bit rougher on Poppy than the Hufflepuff might have been comfortable with, though as she laid down on her front and hooked her arms under Poppy’s thighs, her dark eyes swiftly met her gaze. “Tell me if you need me to go any faster or slower. I want you to get the most out of this.”
Poppy nodded. “You can start slow now, please.”
As Imelda got herself ready, Poppy turned towards you. “MC, will you… talk to me while she eats me out?”
Seeing as that had been very much your idea, you were eager to agree. “I’ll make you feel as good as I can,” you assured her.
At last, Imelda was ready. Poppy sought your hand as the Slytherin moved in, squeezing it tightly as she shuddered at the feeling of Imelda’s breath on her clit. As promised, she started slow, her tongue flicking at Poppy’s fleshy petals before she moved to a rhythm of quick kitten licks.
You kept a close eye on your precious angel, watching her lips part as her breath started to quicken again. “Does it feel good, baby girl?” you asked her.
“It does…” she sighed. “I can feel her tongue… it tickles a bit,”
“You’re probably still a little sensitive.” You kissed the small bit of skin just below her ear, the tremble of her body confirming your assessment. “It will start to feel much better soon. Just relax, let her set the pace.”
Imelda kept licking, gradually building up towards bigger strokes until she was properly lapping away at Poppy. You turned to fondling her breasts again, tickling her nipples, caressing the smooth flesh as you observed the determined expression on Imelda’s freckled features, the way she fully threw herself into pleasing her lover, just as dedicated as she would be out on the pitch. Merlin, what had you done to earn the love and blessing of these horny little nymphs?
You met Imelda’s gaze, a flash of understanding passing between you. So you once again nestled into the crook of Poppy’s neck, nibbling on the skin, adding to the sensation of Imelda’s tongue finally sinking into her tight slit. Poppy cried softly, her neck craning back as you kept nursing her, her hips raising from the bed as Imelda devoured her whole.
“Tell me what she’s doing to you,” you ordered her.
“I can feel her… inside,” she moaned between gasps, “she’s – oh, gods –“
You chuckled against her throat, sucking a hickey into her neck before you pushed yourself up on your elbow to take in all of her flushed visage. Her hair was sticking to her forehead, cheeks blazing crimson red as a never-ending mantra of breathless prayers rose from her open mouth
But her eyes. Those sweet, chocolate brown eyes, peering out at you from under their hoods, luring you in with their innocent gaze. You felt like you would drown in them if only you looked at them long enough.
Moving your hand down to join Imelda’s tongue in servicing her sensitive nub, you whispered sweetly to her, “You won’t ever be alone again… you will always be loved, always be cherished. We will comfort you, make love to you… you can have us whenever you want…”
You cradled the Hufflepuff against your breast, feeling her hot breath on your skin, the sound of her desperate cries like music to your ears.
“We’re together now… and always will be… We'll have our own little family, somewhere safe, and happy… imagine it, bearing our children… us taking care of you just like this as your breasts swell with milk and your belly grows with our babies –”
Imelda’s muffled grunts blended with Poppy’s, forming a growing stereo as you laboured together to bring about her inevitable climax, the vivid pictures you were painting with your words only adding to your harmonious ecstasy.
“We are your home now… we’re yours… and you’re ours. So come for us, baby girl. Let us see you come undone.”
At last, she did. Her release arrived in a tidal wave that swept all of you away. She buried her face into your chest, letting out a deep groan as every part of her body shook and trembled with pure blissful energy. You saw Imelda pushing her mouth into her folds, not wanting a drop to be spilt. Just as you thought the high has passed, however, a soft, gurgling sound came from Poppy’s pussy, followed by a spray of essence that hit Imelda squarely in the face.
To her credit, she didn’t retreat, but you definitely couldn’t keep yourself from bursting out into a hysterical giggle as soon as you figured out what had happened. Poppy quickly rose from your chest, cheeks red with embarrassment. “Oh goodness, sorry, I didn’t mean to –”
“It’s all right,” you reassured her, still chuckling. “That happens sometimes. Besides, I don’t think Imelda minds.”
The Slytherin removed herself from Poppy’s core with a wet sucking sound, sitting up as she wiped her eyes. “I don’t, but next time, maybe give me a heads up before you decide to hit me between the eyes.”
That could count on a spirited laugh from all of you. As the charged energy from your lovemaking slowly dissipated, you briefly left the bed to gather a couple of plushy towels. You offered one to Imelda before turning to Poppy, relishing in the way she lovingly looked up at you as you dabbed her face.
“There, all clean,” you smiled, pecking the tip of her nose for good measure. You then settled back against the pillows, Poppy snuggling up to you as you watched Imelda freshen up.
“Well, I guess we know who won tonight’s round,” Imelda said after she had disposed of the towel and settled against the other side of Poppy, wrapping an arm around the Hufflepuff’s small frame.
“I’d say we did,” you replied. “She obviously was the loudest with me.”
“Oh, come on. I was the one who made her squirt!”
“You should both be quiet,” Poppy piped up. “I think it’s very clear that I’m the undisputed winner tonight.”
You flashed a cheeky grin, letting out a chuckle. “I suppose that settles it.”
“Oh, fair enough,” Imelda said, feigning exasperation. “Are we getting a consolation prize at least?”
Poppy giggled before giving both of you a loving kiss on the lips. You felt the fatigue of today’s whirlwind of events finally beginning to weigh on your eyelids, letting out a yawn as you settled in for the night. Before you could even drift into sleep, however, you sensed Poppy’s weight shifting on your chest, prompting you to open your eyes to meet her warm brown gaze.
“Are you all right?” you asked.
She smiled. “I am. Tonight was wonderful. Thank you… for giving me this.”
“I wasn’t any trouble at all, my love.” You kissed her cheek. “Like I said, we are a part of each other now.”
She briefly lowered her eyes, contemplating a thought. Then she looked up to you again. “MC, what you said about beginning a family, did you really mean those words?”
The question took you a bit by surprise, but you supposed she was right to ask. Truth be told, there was a lot to contemplate about your future after the way your bond had changed tonight. You didn’t want to pretend to have all the answers, though at least you were certain about one thing.
“The only future I want is the one that has you two in it,” you confided. “What it will look like, I cannot yet say… but if settling down and starting a little family of our own is what will make you happy, then so will it be with me.”
Her eyes brimmed with love and understanding, a kindness you had witnessed countless times, but now appearing even more profound and potent. She finally put her head on your chest, closing her eyes. “I love you, MC.”
You planted a kiss on top of her head. “I love you too. Both of you.”
#hogwarts legacy#imelda reyes#poppy sweeting#imelda reyes x mc#poppy sweeting x mc#imelda reyes x f!mc#poppy sweeting x f!mc#imelda reyes x reader#poppy sweeting x reader#imelda reyes x poppy sweeting#imelda reyes x mc x poppy sweeting#imelda reyes x f!mc x poppy sweeting#imelda reyes x reader x poppy sweeting#imelda reyes smut#poppy sweeting smut#hogwarts legacy smut
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hella got through chapter 6 everyone cheer!
i don't know how to respond to this coherently so i'm just going to scroll down and let the word vomit happen:
the choice of emoji reacts to some of these . . . i'm surprised hella hasn't killed you guys.
keeping gin away from this mess is the last thing on my mind, unfortunately *stares at the BEAST tag*
ARRGHHHFGHHH IM SO GLAD YOU GUYS LIKE SSKK. they're such a breath of fresh air, and writing them comes so easily to me. while i like writing skk ( fucked up as they are--even at this point in the story ) and the fast-paced nature of their relationship, this is romance writing work coming from the guy whose only other fic had a first kiss at uhhh...160k words.
yesenina did serve too hard. i imagine her as similair to the others, but with a Rita Hayworth-like air of ambition about her, and that's a serve. and it's what gets her killed.
Chuuya Yuan history coming in SOON. actually. Next chapter.
seeing hella lose it over Chuuya's internal monologue here has been absolutely hilarious and kind of rewarding. I Knew All That because I'm the author ( duh ) so i never really grasped how strange the shift to Chuuya's thoughts about the relationship would be. I mean there's snippets of it, like the diner scene, but you're right, it's fanfic and so that is a lot easier to sweep under the rug.
ACAB. I considered putting a line from Doc Riedenschneider in The Asphalt Jungle ( 1950 ) "Experience has taught me to never trust a policeman. Just when you think one's alright, he turns legit." in a divider chapter between part I and part II, but I thought was too on the nose following 7 ( and a bit pretentious considering this is just ao3 fanfic and not a published work or anything ) so i grabbed myself by the metaphorical monkey backpack and didn't.
Mafia Nepo Baby 😭 I love Hella
HUGE WIN FOR ME. I was so nervous because i needed to balance Chuuya being observant but also quite literally *out of the loop.* He's not from the same world as Dazai--he's not involved with the murders or the politics or the mess going on yet. He comes across as oblivious at times because Dazai's POV is purposefully designed to make you see him that way. Dazai's so sure he's in control of what Chuuya knows that he doesn't realize he might have met his match.
ZSKK are uhm. yeah. all im gonna say there.
the "PARDON." IM CACKLING
argh. the switch up with this chapter...why the hell am i getting nostalgic for something i wrote less than two months ago ( ican't believe i've been grinding through this fic so fast jesus ).
i love unhealthy dynamics, truly. this fic was really a test to see if i could write soukoku making each other worse. which is a pretty stark contrast to my other stuff.
HELLA. OH MY GOD. that bit about their careers . . . i can't believe she noticed that. Chuuya started the fic genuinely ambitious, wanting the spotlight, wanting to defy expectations set upon him by his looks, his race, and his past. Dazai's a cop, sworn to uphold the law, but he doesn't feel like a good person. He can't ( interlude chapter . . . stares out the window ), but he can use everything about who he is to give Chuuya the life he wants. like a guardian ange--*gets taken out by a sniper chapter 8 style*
Their original goals aren't gone, per se, they've simply been reoriented.
can't wait for chapter 7
i know it'll make Hella want to hunt me down for sport, so i'll sleep with both eyes open for the forseeable future.
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YOU DO NOT HAVE PERMISSION TO REPOST MY WORK UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCE.
Summary: Being the manager of 'The Badlands' was a job Wanda enjoyed, but not so much when the lead singer made her life difficult.
A/N: So, I've kinda been MIA. I had huge issues with my account a few weeks back, and between work and problems with my own health, writing has been a little hard. However, here is some pretty shitty writing to keep you all fed!
TW: ILLNESS (Please let me know if there’s any I should add)
Songs used - Arctic Monkeys
Main Masterlist
‘Peaceful’ and ‘relaxing’ weren’t words that came to mind when Wanda heard the name Y/N L/N. In fact, the name boiled her blood.
Managing the The Badlands was a dream come true for Wanda. Travelling the world, listening to amazing music and meeting incredible music. But what she hadn’t taken into account, was the bands frontwoman, being a total fucking nightmare.
Truth be told, you didn’t set out to make Wanda’s life harder, but you just couldn’t seem to keep your nose clean. Literally, sometimes.
PR scandal after PR scandal had left Wanda with more stress than she knew what to do with. She could only wish you would hit your head one day and wake up with a brain. But unfortunately, she was shit out of luck.
“L/N!” Uh oh.
You scrambled to sit upright from your position on the tour bus’s couch, watching as the redheaded wrath stormed into the vehicle, a death-glare sent your way.
You heard your bandmates giggle, Kate, your bassist, and Yelena, your drummer, happily await the chewing out you were about to receive. To be fair, you didn’t know what you had done this time, so prepping for an apology was futile.
“What can I do for you, ma’am?” You smiled at her, trying to flash her that million-dollar smile of yours in hopes of some mercy. No luck.
“Don’t call me ma’am, makes me feel old.” Wanda grumbled, folding her arms as she stood in front of you. “What the hell is this?!”
She shoved her phone in your face, showing you a twitter article. Badlands’ Lead Singer Y/N L/N caught in yet another bar brawl!
Ah, that definitely jogged some memories.
“I can explain-“ You tried, but Wanda just shoved her phone back in her jean pocket, rubbing her temples.
“-You know what? I don’t even want to hear it.” Wanda yelled. “You are on thin fucking ice, L/N! I mean it!”
And with that, your manager was gone.
You still thought she was really pretty, even when she was screaming at you. You just sighed, slumping back into the couch, whilst Kate and Yelena looked at you with pity.
“Dude, why didn’t you just tell her?” Kate asked, leaning forward and clasping her hands together.
“Did you not hear the woman? Wanda looked ready to kill me!” You exclaimed, before putting your head in your hands.
“Still, it might’ve helped to tell her why you got into that fight.” Yelena prompted, but you shook your head, before looking up.
“Either way, I should never have hit that guy. I just made things more difficult for her.” You told them, sighing before getting up to walk away.
“When did you suddenly grow a heart? You didn’t give a shit about our last manager, you practically sent him grey.” The drummer attempted to joke, but you just rolled your eyes. You decided to head out of the bus and try to find Wanda, to apologise.
You twisted the rings on your fingers as you looked around for her, heading inside the venue you guys would be playing at that night, assuming she was in there helping with setup.
“Have you seen Wanda around?” You asked a random stage-tech, who pulled a face of confusion at you. “Short angry redhead.” You deadpanned, and he immediately understood, and pointed towards the back of the stage.
You thanked him quickly and began jogging around frantically to find her, catching her conversing with one of the staff that worked in the venue. She finished her conversation and caught you out of the corner of her eye, her face immediately dropping.
That stung your heart a little bit.
“Wanda?” You called out, stepping towards her cautiously.
“What?” The woman snapped back, clearly not wanting to hear whatever you had to say. But since she was your manager, she was obligated to.
“Look…” Your eyes darted around the room as you noticed there was no one around. “-I’m really sorry, I- I wasn’t thinking.”
Wanda huffed.
“No, you weren’t. That’s the problem, you never think.” She scolded, and despite being considerably taller than her, you never felt so small.
You scratched at the back of your neck nervously, unintentionally lifting your Metallica band tee as you did so. As you did so, you could’ve sworn you caught Wanda’s eyes drop down to the slight bit of tone skin that was revealed.
“I… It was out of order, but-“ You were finally going to tell her, but someone calling her name over from the other side of the stage took her attention.
“Look, I need to go. Just please, stay out of trouble for today? Please?” She pleaded with you, but it wasn’t a genuine ask, she was still scolding you like a child.
You deserved it, really.
“Yeah, okay.” You mumbled, but she was already walking off. Shit, well, that could’ve gone better. But as far as most of your interactions go, that certainly wasn’t the worst.
You opted to head back to bus and get your things and find your dressing room to get ready for the show.
‘The Badlands’ had been on tour now for just under two months, and the last few dates were rapidly approaching. Currently, you were in Miami, then you would be heading to Pennsylvania, and lastly, New York.
It was bittersweet, but you were certainly looking forward to the time off. It would give you time to write new stuff, see your family, go on vacation. As much as you loved Kate and Yelena, and you did, you needed a break.
Song writing wasn’t something you needed time off for, however. In fact, as of late, you had been really inspired to write. You figured it was to do with your growing feelings for Wanda, despite the fact she hated your guts, she had become your muse.
Some time before your show tonight, after you had gotten dressed in some skin tight black jeans, and a loose fitting band shirt, with the sleeves cut off at your shoulders along with some black converse, you had decided to scribble down some lyrics in your notebook.
This scrappy little notebook you carried with you practically everywhere, and it was strictly off-limits to everyone, including your bandmates.
Inside this book, were past Grammy award-winning songs, and hopefully, some future award winners too. Most of your latest stuff were all works in progress, losing inspiration just as you got close to finishing it.
It sucked, feeling like there was something missing, something that hadn’t clicked.
You had your hopes up for this new piece that you were writing, lyrics just flowing from the tip of your pen. Humming a tune, you noted the melody beside the words.
A harsh knocking on your door nearly knocked you from your chair, however.
“We’re on in five, Y/N!” Kate called, and you nodded, getting up and dusting yourself off to look moderately presentable. Even though your aesthetic was something of a rockstar, you still weren’t going to walk out there with mustard stains on your pants.
You could hear the booming of the crowd, and the music of your warm-up act, shaking the nerves out of you as you walked to the side of the stage.
“Y’ready?” Yelena slapped you on the back a little too hard, making you flinch.
“Have you seen Wanda?” You scanned around, but Yelena just chuckled whilst shaking her head.
“Naw, she’s here somewhere though. Why? Want a good luck kiss?” The woman teased, and you just pushed her as Kate walked over.
The lights went low, and you took that as your cue to walk on with fog that would conceal your entrance.
Just like you’ve done a hundred times.
You all got in position, Yelena on drums, Kate and you picking up your guitars.
The lights lit up, and the mist cleared, revealing the three of you and setting the crowd off into a roar of cheers.
“How we feelin’, Miami?!” You yelled as you grabbed the mic, your guitar swinging around your side as the strap clung to your shoulder.
More cheers came from the crowd, and you laughed.
“We’re gonna start things off tonight with one of our favourites, I’m sure you know it!” You announced, and Kate immediately started off the riff to your song ‘I Bet You Look Good On The Dancefloor’.
‘Stop making the eyes at me,
I’ll stop making the eyes at you,
What surprises me is that I don’t really want you to’
You began strumming on your guitar, looking down and catching sight of the young women in the front row, screaming and reaching out for you.
‘And your shoulders are frozen (cold as the night)
Oh, but you’re an explosion (you’re dynamite)
Your name isn’t Rio, but I don’t care for sand,
And lighting the fuse might result in a bang, b-b-bang- oh!’
Kate sang the back up lines, whilst you continued to the chorus, where the crowd joined in loud.
‘I bet that you look good on the dancefloor,
I don’t know if you’re looking for romance or
I don’t know what you’re looking for.’
‘I said, I bet that you look good on the dancefloor,
Dancing to electro-pop like a robot from 1984,
Well, from 1984!’
You continued riffing out on your guitar, really giving it the theatrics. You finished the first song, and carried on through the set list. It was going well, as it often did.
During a small break in between songs, you grabbed a bottle of water and poured it over yourself, getting your shirt wet in the process, sending the crowd (especially the females) into overdrive.
Briefly, your eyes shot over to the side of the stage, where you found Wanda. But her eyes were glued to her phone, typing away, and you suddenly felt a little disheartened she wasn’t watching you.
The night drew to a close with your final song, and you bid the crowd goodnight. All of you walked off stage, high-fiving and still riding on the high of performing. Some VIP fans were waiting for you, which would usually be exciting if some of them were hot, but you were feeling a little gloomy as of late.
With your acknowledgement of your feelings for Wanda as of late, and sleeping with random strangers just wasn’t cutting it for you anymore. But expressing how you feel to a woman that hates your guts was easier said than done.
“You coming, L/N?” Kate asked, practically being jumped by one of the girls waiting for you all, but you shook your head.
“Yeah, yeah.” Maybe liquor would help fix your feelings.
Spoiler alert, it didn’t.
Here you were, in some random club, leaning against the bar as you watched your bandmates have fun. But what was more infuriating was watching some random douchebag get a little too close to Wanda.
Her hands on his chest.
That smile on her face.
You don’t think you’ve ever made her smile.
Knocking back your drink, you turned around and slammed the glass on the bar, calling out for another. You couldn’t watch.
For a rockstar that could have any girl she wanted, the one she actually wanted was the one she couldn’t have.
But as you waited, you felt your phone buzzing in your pocket, and your interest peaked at who could be calling this late.
You looked at the caller ID, and immediately went to step outside to answer it.
Unbeknowst to you, Wanda had seen you head out.
“Oh, give me just a second.” She excused the guy she was talking to, a lovely English man named Jarvis.
“Of course.” He smiled, to which she mirrored, before making her way through the crowd to keep you out of trouble. Wanda didn’t trust you, so if she was going to have to babysit you the whole night, then so be it. It was only at the expense of her own happiness.
“Hey, Maya.” You answered down the phone, a weak smile appearing on your face. “What’re you doing up this late?”
“I wanted to talk to you!”
“Hmm, I guess it’s okay then. Does mama know you’re on the phone?” You asked, her voice warming your heart.
“Mhmm, she let me call you, when are you coming home, Y/N/N?”
“A couple more weeks, bub. I promise. How are you feeling?” You asked, and your voice began to shake at the end.
“A little sick today. But the doctor says I’m making a big improvement!”
You tried hard to not let the tears pool in your eyes, quickly wiping them away with the back of your tattooed hand.
“That’s great, kiddo! I can’t wait to come see you soon.” You said sincerely, and you heard her giggle down the other end. “You should head to bed though, it’s late.”
“Okay. Goodnight!”
“Goodnight.” You said, as she passed the phone back to your mom. “Hey, ma.”
“Hey. How’s everything?” She asked, and you sighed, leaning against the wall and crossing a leg over the other.
“Alright, just, weird feelings at the moment.” You admitted, looking at the cuticles of your nails.
“What’s up?” She tried, but you didn’t feel like getting into that all now.
“Ah, it’s nothing-“ You told her, but you heard the club door swing open and see Wanda storming out, clearly looking for you. “-Shit, I gotta go Ma, talk to you later.”
You ended the phone call and sniffled, wiping away a final stray tear as Wanda finally lay eyes on you.
“What’re you doing out here?” Your manager asked, clearly expecting you to have found your way into some trouble.
“Nothing.” You dropped your gaze the ground. You didn’t say anything to Wanda because you figured it was better to be quiet, since anytime you spoke you pissed her off.
Wanda didn’t answer you, but crossed her arms as she studied your face, noting your teary eyes.
“Is everything okay?” She asked this time, her voice a lot softer.
“Yeah, yeah.” You brushed her off. “-I think I’m gonna head back to the hotel for the night. I don’t feel great.” You lied, but Wanda seemed surprised.
“O-okay, I’ll let the girls know.” She offered, and you just nodded. “Goodnight Wanda.”
But Wanda didn’t get a chance to respond, since you had already walked past her, back in the direction of the hotel.
Wanda knew something was wrong, you were never one to leave a party early. In the last year she had been managing the band, you were a wild child. So this was totally out of character.
Her stomach settled uncomfortably, twisting in a way she had never experienced before. Sure, she worried about you, but that was usually only for the sake of the band and her job. No, this time, it felt different.
She was worried about you.
You had gotten back to the hotel, and you knew you weren’t getting any sleep.
Talking to your sister was a relief, but it also brought up a lot of emotion. It was hard to be away from her for so long, but this tour meant you could send money home to your family.
Sacrifices had to be made, and you’d do anything to make sure your family was okay.
Regardless of your brutish manner, throwing caution to the wind, acting a fool, you still had a heart, and a lot of love to give.
You lay on your bed, staring up at the ceiling. You lay in only your jeans and some boxers, the band sticking out the top, and a sports bra.
Trying not to dwell, you let your mind wander, and of course, it stumbled upon Wanda.
Thinking about the look in her eyes from earlier, you think that might’ve been the softest she had been with you in a long time, since you first met.
That was your own fault, though. If you hadn’t caused her so much trouble, she probably would’ve like you a lot more. But if she only knew.
With your mind on your muse, you grabbed your notebook and looked at what you had written earlier before your show.
I’m a puppet on string,
Tracy Island, time-travellin’ diamond cutter-shaped heartaches,
Come to find you four in some velvet mornin’ years too late.’
You wondered what it would be like if you had met Wanda before you were a jerk, before all this. If you were a different person. A dozen ‘what-if’s?’ bounced around your head, but you weren’t in a song-writing mood right now.
In fact, grabbed the page of the work in progress you had started and ripped it out. You had begun to accept that Wanda just didn’t like you, sometimes things just end up that way. But it would be a little harder to accept.
Hoping to take your mind off it, you stuck Netflix on your laptop and hoped to drown out your sorrows with some cheap sitcoms.
The road trip to Pennsylvania was unexpectedly quiet on your end, which everyone noticed straight away. Even the goddamn bus driver.
Wanda occasionally looked up from her phone, noting that you had opted to stay in your bunk and blast music through your headphones. You were usually up, playing video games with Kate or watching something with Yelena, but nothing.
Something was definitely wrong, but as long as you still performed at the end of the night, Wanda didn’t care.
At least that’s what she told herself.
“Have either of you spoken to Y/N this morning?” The manager asked, and both girls shook their head.
“Naw, we saw her leave yesterday and figured you’d yelled at her again.” Yelena shrugged, and Wanda was took aback.
“I- I don’t yell at her.” She defended, sounding accused.
Kate and Yelena just grinned, sharing each other a brief look.
“Yeah, you do.” They both said in sync.
Wanda’s jaw fell agape. Okay, maybe she did yell at you a lot. But with good reason! You constantly acted up and made her job ten times harder.
“Yeah well, if she behaved herself, maybe we wouldn’t have a problem.” Wanda gritted her teeth but worry still lined her stomach.
Neither Kate nor Yelena spoke for a moment, their faces falling to something more serious.
“Wanda, our dear manager. Do you know why Y/N acts up?” Kate raised a brow, and Wanda furrowed hers.
“If I did, I wouldn’t be yelling at her all the time.” She deadpanned, and Yelena just shook her head whilst her best friend continued.
“Christ, you two are unbearable.” Kate muttered. “You. You’re the reason she acts up.”
Wanda had truly never been more confused in her life.
“You’re gonna have to elaborate on that.”
“That fight, in Texas?” Kate questioned, and Wanda nodded. “Some jackass was talking about you, real gross. Asking Y/N to put in a good word for you, so she knocked him on his ass.”
Wanda’s heart got caught in her mouth.
“What?”
“Jesus Christ, Lena- I can’t.” Kate whined, putting her head in her hands.
“What Kate is trying to say is- Y/N likes you, and she was just protecting your honour.” Yelena explained. “And all those other times too, it was either that or she was trying to get your attention.”
Wanda was truly dumbfounded, lost for words.
Her eyes trailed over to your bunk, that was covered by a curtain, and her heart strained a little.
There was that fluttering feeling again.
Shit.
She had experienced that feeling quite frequently whenever you two spoke, but she had always assumed it was anger. No, no it was clear now it was definitely the opposite.
That stupid grin of yours. The tattoos that covered your body like art. Your actual body, toned and sculpted. You always wore those stupid band tees with the sleeves cut, leaving little to Wanda’s imagination.
The feeling had always been there, she had either just ignored it or mislabelled it.
At your shows, she kept her head in her phone to avoid looking at the way you moved when you sang and played guitar. Those seductive looks you threw into the crowd. Sure, Wanda had always found you attractive, that was never up for debate, but she never thought she would be attracted to you.
You were an asshole, a troublemaker.
But it was apparent that was all for her. For her attention.
It worked, maybe not in the way you had liked. But it worked. Now Wanda knew.
Kate and Yelena dissolved into a conversation of their own, not that Wanda was listening. Her mind was in a tizzy, trying to resolve her feelings. It was incredibly confusing.
This wasn’t out of the blue, but in the same way it was.
The show in Pennsylvania went well, leaving the last Badlands show in New York. You went on stage, did your thing, and disappeared back into the hotel without another word.
Nobody knew what was going on, and this was so out of character for you that no-one really knew how to deal with it.
But something was going to have to change before it affected your performance.
Wanda pushed away what Yelena and Kate had told her the other day, more focused on finding out what was going on with you recently.
She found your hotel room, and knocked harshly so that you would hear.
After a few seconds, she heard the thudding of your feet get closer before the door creaked open.
“I haven’t done anything.” You sighed, not wearing your usual grin and Wanda’s fears that something was wrong were confirmed.
“I’m not here to yell at you.” Wanda said back, trying to keep her tone a little lighter than usual.
You didn’t say anything, only shifted your weight between your feet as you put your arm against the door, showing off your bicep that Wanda couldn’t help but notice.
Not the time.
“What?” You asked impatiently.
“What’s going on with you? You’ve been so distant over the past few days.” Wanda folded her arms.
“Why do you care?” Narrowed eyes pointed her way, and this was a tone you had never taken with her before, she certainly didn’t appreciate it.
“Because it’s my job to.”
You groaned and rolled your eyes, before trying to close the door and walk away. But Wanda caught the door with her foot, and followed you into your room as you sat on the end of your bed.
“Yeah, it’s your job to care, but that’s all it is.” You stated. “You only care because it’s your job. You don’t like me, I get it. After New York, you’ll barely have to see me. So don’t worry about it.”
That sentence hurt both of you.
Wanda took a deep breath, trying to ignore the tension in the air.
“That night, outside the club after the show in Miami. What happened?” Wanda asked, but you seemed reluctant. “I swear to God, Y/N.”
“Fine! Jesus Christ!” You snapped, sighing. “Fuck, okay… My sister called.”
“I didn’t know you had a sister.” Wanda said, her tone a lot more quiet.
“Yeah well, we aren’t friends like that I guess.” You stated. “Maya, she… she’s my little sister. Half-sister. She’s only nine, and…”
There were the tears in your eyes again, and Wanda’s heart wrenched at what you said next.
“She has leukaemia. Has for the past two years, and I don’t see her that often so it’s tough. I miss her a lot, and I’m afraid something will happen when I’m not there. But I have to be out to pay for her treatment, because unfortunately, we live in the shithole that is America.” You ranted, sniffling as you did so.
“Y/N, I- I’m so sorry, I had no idea.” Wanda’s voice broke, but you shook your head, blinking away your tears.
“It’s fine. But, it’s just hard to be away from her. Doctor’s say she’s getting better, but…” You trailed off, but Wanda knew what you were putting out there.
You didn’t speak again, and Wanda made the bold decision to sit beside you on the bed.
The close proximity to her set your nerves alight. You looked up, into her eyes, and this was the first time you had ever been this close, and it made you feel fuzzy.
“And then there’s you.” You finally spoke, your voice barely above a whisper.
“W-what?” It was Wanda’s turn to stumble now.
“You. You drive me fucking crazy!” You raised your voice, standing up abruptly. “Do you know why I do the things I do? Act the way I do?”
Wanda gulped, and nodded.
“Kate and Yelena told me.” She admitted, and you just rubbed your face with your hands.
“Shitheads.” You grumbled. “L-look, I like you Wanda. I really, really do. A-and I don’t try to make your life difficult, I just- I don’t know how to express the way I feel like a normal person. The only way I emote is through my music, and-“
Wanda cut you off as she shot up and grabbed the sides of your cheeks with her hands and pulled you into a kiss. It took you off guard at first, but you melted into it, your hands finding Wanda’s waist.
The only noise in the room now was the sounds of your lips breaking apart for the occasional breath, before you nipped at her lower lip in an attempt at a silent ask for permission. Wanda granted you entrance, and your tongues slid together as she moaned into your mouth.
You finally broke away for a breath of air, and Wanda just stared up at you in awe.
“I’m sorry for being so hard on you.” She said sadly, but you shook your head.
“It’s not your fault, if I had just known how to talk to you, none of this would ever have happened.” You told her, and she just offered you a tight-lipped smile. “It’s just that every time we would go out to a club or celebrate, some guy would find his way over to you and it threw me off.”
“Well, it’s just you and me, so. Tell me, Y/N, how do you feel?” Wanda asked, somewhat teasingly, and you just let go of her waist and reached into your pocket, pulling out a crumpled piece of paper.
“I wrote something, well, started to. I wrote it for you.” You admitted, unravelling the paper, and Wanda looked shocked.
“You… you wrote a song for me?” She whispered, and you nodded. Wanda’s own eyes were beginning to line with tears after an already emotional evening.
“It’s not done, and I was hoping to get it finished by the time we got back to New York so that we could go to the studio and record it. Maybe play it in the last show of the tour.” You shrugged, and Wanda nodded.
“That sounds good.” She smiled, and you did too, leaning into to kiss her one more time. “Do I get to read it?”
You shook your head.
“Not till it’s done.”
“You ready, Lena?” You asked from the mic, and the drummer nodded. You gave a thumbs up to the producer on the other side of the glass to your recording booth.
You also caught the sweet smile Wanda sent your way.
“Aye, Mike?” You asked, and the producer looked up from his soundboard. “Make Wanda wait outside.”
Wanda frowned now, but you told her she wasn’t allowed to hear it until it was done.
Your manager did as she was told, and went out, allowing you to record your latest piece. Yelena and Kate loved it, even more so after you told them what happened between you and Wanda that other night.
Recording took less than an hour, quicker than any of your other songs. You knew it was special that way.
“You guys good to play that tonight?” You asked, slipping off your headphones as Mike got to work producing.
“Fuck yeah!” Yelena roared, and you laughed at her reaction.
That night, the last show of your tour, you had anticipated nerves, but not like this. Probably due to the fact that you were performing a song for the first time that revealed your feelings about Wanda to a crowd of thousands of people.
But this was what you wanted.
You wanted her. And you wanted her to hear it.
Following the usual routine, you headed out on stage and the reveal sent the crowd wild.
“Hello New York! It’s good to be home!” You yelled into the mic, smiling widely, and genuinely for the first time a while. “Let’s get this shit kicked off with a little 505!”
The crowd screamed, and lights dimmed as you played the slightly calmer song. But the set list continued through the night, upping the ante and the energy.
When you looked over to the side of the stage, Wanda wasn’t buried in her phone, she was looking at you, a smile on her face, and it sent you to cloud nine.
You finished your last song, and now came the surprise.
“Now, dearest fans, we have a surprise for you.” You admitted, and it captivated their attention. “We have one more song for you, and it’s a special one, because this is the first time anyone has heard it.”
The crowd erupted into cheers, and the band laughed at their reaction, but you only cast a glance at Wanda, who was basically giddy with excitement.
“It’s called R U Mine? And we hope you enjoy.” The lights strobed, and Kate played the first note, and you began.
‘I'm a puppet on a string
Tracy Island, time-travelin' diamond cutter-shaped heartaches
Come to find you four in some velvet mornin' years too late
She's a silver linin', lone ranger ridin' through an open space
In my mind, when she's not right there beside me’
You got into it, really giving it your all, but it didn’t go unnoticed that when you weren’t lost in the music, your eyes were on Wanda.
‘I go crazy 'cause here isn't where I wanna be
And satisfaction feels like a distant memory
And I can't help myself
All I wanna ever say is, "Are you mine?"
Well, are you mine?
Are you mine?
Are you mine? Oh, ah’
You played the song through, and bid goodnight to your home city, before dashing off to the side to see your favourite manager, who immediately looped her arms around your neck.
“So, what did ya think?” You asked, but you got your answer in the form of a deeply passionate kiss.
“I loved it.”
You couldn’t help but smirk.
“Good, because that kind of answers my question.”
“And what was that?” Wanda asked curiously, still grinning.
“Will you be mine?”
Let me know what y’all think!!!
Message me to join my taglist!
Taglist: @sayah13 @when-wolves-howl @diaryoflife @iliketozoneout @ageofolsen
#wanda maximoff fluff#marvel#fxf#mcu#wanda maximoff x you#wanda maximoff#wanda maximoff x reader#wanda maximoff fanfiction#wanda x you#wanda x y/n
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If things had gone differently
Pairing: bi!Palermo x fem!bi!reader
A/N: this was quite a request, @tzkyo, thank you! This is a really interesting plot that is very likely to make me cry while writing it but I love it! You're very creative, hope you get more ideas like this for me to write ❤❤
Summary (@tzkyo 's courtesy, everyone 😉): Y/N (aka Recife) is completely and utterly in love with Palermo, even if all this time he loved Berlín. After his love interest died, he was torn apart from grief, while Y/N did her best to comfort him in hopes of one day winning his heart. During the heist, he breaks her heart in the most cruel and painful way possible, but regrets it when things start getting ugly.
Warnings: SPOILERS, violence, death, angsty af, heartbreak
€€€
I hated them.
I hated them both.
Actually, that's not true. I loved them both.
But I hated the way they looked at each other.
I hated the way they acted together.
I knew I shouldn't. I knew it was wrong to act like this, but I didn't care. I'd been going through this shit every single day for 10 years. Watching the love of my life Palermo being so kind, so sweet, so fun, being himself with Berlín, and then turning to me with a cold shoulder. Of course, he'd be sweet and kind to me as well, but when he was with the love of his life he was a whole different person. And it bothered me so much that that version of Palermo was the real him. Berlín brought out the best in him, certainly. He brought out the fun, sunny, Golden Retriever-like side of him. But he started neglecting me for it.
Damn him. Damn him and his perfect plans and his perfect brains and his perfect fucking smile. How could I be so in love with him? He was impossible, he was selfish, he had countless of flaws, but when you truly love someone, that doesn't matter. And his happiness mattered to me as well, so I let him be with Berlín and tried not to get in the middle.
And then, in the heist at the Royal Mint, he died. That was really impossible to see. The only difference between what hurt him before was that this time it impacted me as well. Berlín was the one who stole Palermo's heart, and he was quicker than me in doing so, but he was still a really good friend to me, almost a brother. He was used to giving me lots of attention, and that made Palermo's blood boil. That was probably why he was so cold to me.
A few months after Berlín passed, I was called by my ex-partner-in-crime Nairobi to join her and Helsinki in their life of partying and joy. I had missed her very, very much and couldn't wait to clear my mind from the hopeless, dead-end chase after Palermo in the lovely landscapes of Argentina.
A little less than a year later, love played its dirty game once again. Rio got captured and was taken to Algeria for interrogation and torture. That was what brought us all back together. But if there was something I wasn't ready for was meeting Palermo again.
Our reunion was certainly heartfelt and tearful. After all this time of grieving on his own, he felt incredibly alone and couldn't deny that he missed me, even if my advances sometimes bothered him.
...
During the heist
Palermo was acting weird. Very weird. He wasn't looking at me at all, he didn't even bother to look me in the eyes. To others, he talked normally, but to me, he just gave orders as if I meant to him as much as the next person. I've done everything for him: I spent my time helping him when he was blinded when I could have been doing much more useful stuff, I supported him when no one did, I covered him during battle. Hell, I've known him for years, why would he be acting like this?
And then it occurred to me. Why don't I ask him myself?
On the way to look for him, I bumped into Nairobi, who grabbed my arm gently and pulled me away to somewhere more private.
"Recife, where were you going?" She asked carefully.
"I'm just looking for Palermo, why?"
I sighed in exasperation. "Cariño, when are you going to realise you're too good for him? Have you seen how he treats you? You don't deserve that shit. You deserve someone who treats you like the wonderful person that you are. I know you love him, and I know you have for a very long time, but how did you endure all those years of watching him with Berlín and then having him push you away? He's not good enough for you. If he doesn't respond to your advances, it's not your problem, it's his, because he can't see the person in front of him for how she really is."
"Look, I know he can be a really shitty person, but he wasn’t always like this, okay? Before Berlín came around he was sweet, fun, caring. He used to show me so much affection, so much care, and when the guy showed up, he started following him like a puppy."
"He might have been like that before, Recife, but he's not anymore. People change, and sometimes for the worst. Even the inspector in charge now would be able to treat you better than this. And she's been torturing Rio for weeks."
"I'll never know what's going on with him if I don't ask him, will I?"
Nairobi sighed and placed a hand over her cheek, thinking. "You're so stubborn. Now go on, lover girl, before you miss your chance."
I gave her a strong hug and hurried off to find him. After a bit of wandering in the Bank of Spain, I found him in the library with a bunch of hostages and a couple of crew members. This was going to be difficult.
"Palermo!" I called him, and he stopped for a moment, but chose to ignore me and kept walking.
"Hey, Palermo." I grabbed his arm and forced him to look me in the eyes. "Um, could we talk? Alone, please?"
"No. Whatever you have to say, you can say here." He replied coldly, making my jaw clench.
"Fine." I rolled my eyes. "Could you please tell me why you've been treating me like trash since we got here? You're acting really weird, and you're not the Palermo I know, because that guy was loving, and cared about me, even if I was just a friend to him. But now... now you're just a jerk who thinks that he can push me around because I have feelings for him. I miss you, Palermo. The real you."
When I noticed how his fists were closed and his face was red, I got scared. Knowing him, he was going to lash out. "Don't give me that shit, Recife. Do you have any idea how much I suffered when Andrès died!? Does your teeny little brain even begin to comprehend what I went through when you left me alone to follow your little friends to Argentina!? You can't blame me, you can only blame yourself!"
In the middle of all that yelling, Nairobi came in I she almost heard her heart cracking at the scene. I teared up at the harsh words he was throwing at me without any regret, and my friend tried to walk up to me.
"Palermo, shut up! Can't you see she's crying?! Leave her alone!" She defended me.
"Why should I care if she's crying?!" He turned his attention back to me. "Are you still here, Recife? Go on, get out! Leave! Stay the hell away from me!"
I tried not to break down in front of everyone and ran out of the room. I could hear their voices arguing from inside.
"Why did you have to do that, you selfish piece of shit? All she has ever done is care for you and give you the love that not even Berlín gave you and you just break her like that?! Are you crazy?! Do you really think you're in the position to break someone's heart? You? I saw what she went through..."
I zoned the voices out and broke down on the floor, my cries echoing through the corridors. I couldn’t believe he did that to me. Maybe it was better like this. It may be better for both of us.
What he had said really hit a spot. Sometimes I regretted leaving him, but I thought it was for the best. The Palermo I remembered would have never rubbed that in my face. He wouldn't have said any of those things, he would've rejected me gently. And still treat me like a friend.
I leaned my head on the wall and hugged my knees to her chest, sobbing uncontrollably. I heard the door open and someone sat down next to me. Her hand started rubbing circles on my back.
"I gave him a piece of my mind. I couldn’t let him hurt you like this." She said and I leaned my head on her shoulder. "I'm so sorry, cariño. Really."
"You know what the worst part is? If he hadn't changed, if he hadn't started pushing me away for someone else, that version of him would have never done this. I loved Berlín, but he turned him into this... this person I've never seen before..."
Nairobi sighed and clutched me to her chest. "You don't deserve that. Now, why don't you spend the rest of the heist with me, hmm? Get away from all of this for a while. You'll stay at the furnace with me, Bogotá and Denver and we'll take care of you, okay? You know that those guys never fail to put a smile on our faces."
I chuckled. "Okay. Let's go."
...
When they got downstairs, Denver rushed over to me while Nairobi went to talk to the others. "Hey, Recife, what happened? Who did this to you? You give me a name and I'll rip their face off-"
"No, no, no, please don't rip any faces off! It was Palermo. He ripped my heart out, threw it on the ground and walked all over it."
"I have to go, someone is in the need of a beating." He said jokingly. "Hey, listen to me. He's not worth it. If he can't see what a wonderful human being he could have been with, he's not good enough. And it's not all bad. You did a really brave thing, telling him everything you felt to his face. That's a courage he lacks completely, because he doesn't have any balls or dignity. Would you have been with a guy that didn't have dignity or a functioning pair of testicles? Of course not!" I laughed and smiled at him. "There we go, that's much better!" Denver picked me up in his arms and swung me up and down. "Recife! Recife! Recife!" He chanted and I laughed, hugging him.
He put me down and Bogotá approached her. "He's right, kid. Don't let anyone walk all over you. You're too good for that." He pinched my cheek affectionately and I smiled, hugging him as well.
I was going to be better off like this after all.
...
Meanwhile, more days passed and seeing Palermo hurt a little bit every time, but being with people who really cared about me and loved me for who I am made me feel much, much better. I managed to get much closer with the boys, that being Matías, Bogotá and Denver. It was great, they were fun, they were interesting, and they were good people. And Nairobi encouraging me made me feel so happy inside, to finally have someone who truly cared for me.
But I was about to get the harshest reality check I could have ever gotten.
Alicia Sierra had managed to get in contact with Nairobi and manipulate her through her son. First she left her the boy's teddy bear, which contained a phone. I got worried when Nairobi accepted a call from the Inspectora. She started telling her that Axel was with her, and when Nairobi didn't believe her, she put him on the phone. Then she took him outside, encouraging her to look out the window. I felt something was off, until I realised what Sierra was doing.
"It's a trap! Nairobi, get away from there!" I yelled and without wasting a beat, I pushed her out of the way.
The sniper bullet cut through the air as if it was a hot knife cutting butter. Then I felt a pain in my chest and gasped in shock, but almost choked on the blood I was spitting. My hearing faded out and my eyesight blurred, but I could make out Nairobi's voice desperately calling my name and asking for help. I saw a few blurry figures, of which I only recognised Estocolmo and Nairobi, but I also tuned out a voice of which I couldn't forget the presence: Palermo. I could distinctly hear his anguished yells and cries as he tried to pick me up and bring me somewhere else. I wished I could hear what he was saying to me, but I lost consciousness shortly after.
...
*Palermo's POV*
She's shot.
She's shot. She's shot. She's shot.
I couldn’t calm my nerves as I paced back and forth, holding back my tears. Recife just got shot. I couldn’t believe what happened. Her life was on the line, likely because of me. I don't know why I broke her heart like that, I should have done anything else but that! And now she was lying on that cart, a step away from death.
"Somebody do something, carajo!" I cursed. "Anything you can! An anesthesia, a bandage, anything, just don't let her die!"
I heard Nairobi mutter something, but I didn’t have the energy to care. My best friend was dying, the very best friend that never stopped loving me even when I treated her like trash. She was brave and smart and intelligent and never failed to put a smile on my face. I wish things had gone differently, maybe if they had she wouldn’t be here like this.
"Okay, she's stable." Tokio said, making me breathe a sigh of relief. "She's in a coma and we don't know how long it will be until she wakes up, so she's going to need constant monitoring and observation, if we leave her alone like this and something happens, we're screwed."
"I'll stay with her," I volunteered immediately. "The rest of you go down to the furnace, we're almost there."
"Finally getting some common sense into that thick skull of yours, eh, Palermo?" Nairobi asked, her voice lacking humour completely.
"Why don't you mind your business, Nairobi? You still have a job to finish," I countered. I needed to be alone with Y/N now.
She just rolled her eyes. "Fine. Now come on, we need to move her somewhere safer."
...
We took her upstairs carefully and the others left to go back to their jobs. Finally, a moment alone with her. I sat down next to her and grabbed her hand gently, interlocking my fingers with hers.
"I don't know if you can hear me, corazón," I started. "But I need you to know how sorry I am for treating you like that. I didn’t mean to hurt you, I was really overrun by grief and you remind me so much of him... but I don't want to talk about him. I'm so sorry you're going through this... I should have protected you, goddamn it! You've always stuck with me, you've been so patient, so kind, so sweet, waiting for me to treat you the way I did before. And guess what? To get me to remember you, you had to get shot. God, I'm so stupid! You're right, I have changed, but you had to pay the consequences while it should have been me..." a few tears started rolling down my cheeks. "Please give me a chance to fix this once you get better. I couldn’t live with myself knowing I lost such an important person in my life."
I rested my forehead on my other hand and cried shamelessly. "My God, I don’t know what to do with myself if I lose you. I already lost someone important, I already lost someone I loved. Please don't be next. Hold on, honey. You hold on and when we get out here I'm going to buy us an island off of the coasts of Japan, your favorite place, and then I'm going to marry you. We'll live on the island all alone, just us, where nobody can bother us. We'll have sushi every weekend and mochi whenever you want, the ice cream ones, just like you like them. And after a few years, I'll fill that pretty stomach of yours with lovely children, and we'll live the best life we could ever get."
I did the best I could to paint her that picture, hoping she could hear me. I want to do all of these things and more. I want to kiss her forever, then go to Japan and marry her and live the rest of our lives together. I want to give her children, who'll hopefully get her personality and both our brains.
But what if she didn't make it?
I wanted all those things. I love her. I love her more than she thinks. She's going to make it. She has to. Otherwise, I might not be able to move on from her.
...
A few days passed and I spent every single day with her to apologise for everything I had done to her, to tell her about everything I loved about her and our future plans. I refused to leave her side, not while she was in this condition. My eyes hurt from crying and my back hurt from sitting in the chair; I hadn't eaten since she got shot, I only had water, and it wasn't my intention to leave anytime soon. Not even to eat. Not even to sleep.
...
I was sitting next to Y/N, my hand in hers, hoping for any sign of movement. Nothing. All of a sudden, her hand twitched and I almost jumped up from my seat. She was awake! She was here!
I couldn't hold back tears as she opened her eyes and shifted her head to the side to look at me. She eyed me up and down, her eyebrows furrowed. "You look terrible," she said honestly, making me laugh. Her life was on the line and she didn't even leave her sarcastic personality behind. God, this woman was amazing.
"I know," I laughed, stroking her face. "I've been sitting here for days hoping you'd wake up. Listen, I'm really sorry for treating you like that. And I don’t just mean last week. Everything I did to you. You were right, I've changed, and not entirely for the better. I pushed you away without being aware the value of your feelings for me, and when you got shot I finally realised what I should have a long time ago. What I'm trying to say is that I really love you. Please, please give me a chance to fix things. I owe it to you."
She smiled as she teared up as well, which made me hiccup in tears, only this time they were of joy.
"Yes. You can have one more chance." She said.
I gasped softly and tried not to shower her with physical affection as I knew she was hurt.
"What are you still waiting for, Martín? Kiss me, you fool," she joked.
"Are you sure? Because once I start, I might not be able to stop." I replied sincerely.
She gave a small nod and I leaned my face closer to hers. Then she moved her face upwards and met my lips in a soft kiss. I felt my stomach drop to my feet at the feeling of her soft lips on mine, her hand trying to run her fingers through my hair. I smiled in the kiss and felt more tears falling down my face, but I didn’t care. Finally, she was with me. And I wasn't willing to let her go.
...
I woke up to a lot of bustling in the room: the crew was running around and swarming over Recife's body, and their frantic muttering was mixed with the unstable beeping of her monitor.
Shit, the monitor!
"What's going on? Why isn't anyone doing anything?! She's dying, hurry!"
"Palermo, honey..." Nairobi started. "...we can't save her."
I noticed the tears pooling inside her eyes and I almost forgot how to breathe. She was serious.
"No! There has to be something we can do to help! Just anything- no, don't touch that!" I yelled at Denver who was about to detach her from the drugs. "Don't you dare give up! She'll live, I know she will. She's a survivor!"
"I know she is, Palermo, but we're just putting her through useless pain. She's gone, she was since the Inspectora refused to let in the surgical team. She's the only one with proper medical training, if anyone could have done anything, it would have been Recife herself."
"Screw it! Screw all of it! Come on, Nairobi, help me out, please! Please, Nairobi! I can't lose her!"
I saw the hurt and pity in her eyes as she opened her mouth to speak. "I'm sorry, but we-"
Our argument was cut off by the sound of the monitor flatlining.
"¡No! ¡Carajo!" I yelled and punched the wall in a futile attempt to let out my anger. "No! No! Don't leave, please! Please, Y/N!"
The others hugged each other in mourning, but I let nobody touch me. I was too late. She was dead. She was gone forever. No more wedding in Japan. No more sushi and mochi at the weekend. No more children.
I sobbed loudly and clutched her dead body to my chest. I still couldn't believe she was gone. I still couldn't believe that I let love slip through my fingers again.
...
Before her funeral, I stopped by to see her once more.
She was still there, her wound clean and her face relaxed. My heart swelled at the sight and my eyes filled with tears again. I sat down on the cart and pulled her to me, her upper body laying on my lap.
"I'm sorry for this, mi amor. I should have protected you. I love you so much, remember that."
My tears dropped on her face and it looked like she was crying as well, which made me cry harder. My body racked with sobs and I held her beautiful face in my hands as I started singing her favorite song.
"Con los pobres de la tierra
Quiero yo mi suerte hechar
Con los pobres de la tierra
Quiero yo mi suerte hechar
El arroyo de la sierra
Me complace más que el mar
El arroyo de la sierra
Me complace más que el mar
Guantanamera..."
My voice cracked and I couldn’t help but give a soft kiss on the lips.
"Goodbye, my beautiful."
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Thanks for the tag @mk-writes-stuff!
OC Interview
Let's get funky, let's answer for Azhur! (For context, Azhur is Twenari’s father. He's been... alone for a very long time.)
Are you named after anyone?
"No, no, no one else. There's only one me, fortunately. Unless you're counting my family name. Then there's a lot of us. A whole pack of Devarises. Did you know the scientific term for a group of sorcerers is a conference? A conference of Devarises. Gods, I hated those."
When was the last time you cried?
"I couldn't say. Wasting moisture is a travesty in my hell, for rain is rare. Sometimes, when I do give in, I pretend I'm visiting the sea."
Do you have kids?
"Two, though one is gone, taken, dead. I haven't been around Twenari for long, but I see much potential in her. Dreams swim behind her eyes, as much as hands rein in reality. I cannot know her, yet I would like to learn to love her one day. As for Akani.... The soul is a funny thing, made of magic and miracle. It presents on a scale of Tamm units, visible through a sorcerer’s arcane awareness, which draws upon the Veil at a rate, a rage, a relay of 8.5×10^5 ODR volts per second, equivalent to 1 standard Blösten unit, from which can be derived both magi-potential and spell friction by way of the Klaston-Daphon equation and-"
Do you use sarcasm a lot?
"Huh? Do I? I think I do. I make myself laugh all the time!"
What’s the first thing you notice about people?
"How loudly he shouts around them."
What’s your eye colour?
"A pale brown, lighter than my skin. Very distinctive."
Scary movies or happy endings?
"Uh, happy? Happy is good. Fear is evil."
Any special talents?
"My magic, obviously, but saying a Devaris is talented at magic is like saying a fish is talented at swimming. I've gotten quite good at survival here in my hell too. But my best talent, I think.... Ah fuck, I forgot already. Damm, anyways, my second best talent is making soup."
Where were you born?
"The Devaris island, which hovers approximately 200 meters above the city of Unity."
Do you have any pets?
"If I had, I'd have eaten the poor thing already. Spiders and tree sap get quite tiresome after a while."
What sort of sports do you play?
"I'm a dab hand at solitaire, though I think if I play one more round, I'll smash my head into a rock. I did track when I was young, I suppose. Ma always wanted me to go out for wrestling because of how big I was, but I couldn't stand fighting."
How tall are you?
"6'8". Yes, the weather's nice."
What was your favourite subject in school?
"It should've been magic. I love magic. It's my blood, my purpose, my curse and my blessing. But, I always found my mind craving literature, even so. I wanted stories, as frivolous as they are. Were? Are. They were real then."
What is your dream job?
"I don't care what I spend my days with, I want to get out. I want to be free, absolved, forgiven. I want to leave my hell. I want him to stop screaming. I know he's not real - right? - but that doesn't stop the noise. But to do that, I need a bridge. By use of the bottle method, it's theorized that a mage could shift the frequency of one strain of magic to match another. Harmonic magi-radial frequencies can initiate a Naldervon cascade, similar to the effect of a teleportarion ritual. If gravitational drift is factored in, then by taking the derivative of the Naldervon cascade number, found by way of a Tamm reading and plugging the value into Fendessi's equation-"
Anyways, love that guy. He's like if Castaway was way more fucked up. I'll tag @finickyfelix @ettawritesnstudies @elsie-writes @inky-duchess and anyone else who wants in :)
Blanks below
Are you named after anyone? When was the last time you cried? Do you have kids? Do you use sarcasm a lot? What’s the first thing you notice about people? What’s your eye colour? Scary movies or happy endings? Any special talents? Where were you born? Do you have any pets? What sort of sports do you play? How tall are you? What was your favourite subject in school? What is your dream job?
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I'm Doing It
After considering for so long now, I'm saying fuck it & posting up a writing I've been working on! As I am also horrible with titles, I'm still in the process of creating one for my story too! I'm super excited & nervous for you all to read my little writing!
But without further adieu, I present to you my prologue for one of my main stories!
Prologue
There was a mixture of fire and mystic energies surrounding the two of them. Through barely eyes, she stood up tall, with the pendant in hand as it slid onto her katana, she felt the mystic energy of the master with her, ready to take this man down. The man that single-handedly ruined most of her life, her friends and families lives, innocent people who were never supposed to be a part of this war. Yes, everything will be at peace again once he is taken down.
As the flames of the mystic energy surround them both, he looks up from the ground he was kneeling from, staring into the eyes of both the man he had tried to kill to win, his form a flame of fire standing behind this child who he had tried, on multiple occasions, controlling her, taking away her abilities, strength, poisoning her, killing the people she cared about. He couldn’t believe it. He wouldn’t accept it. This wasn’t happening to him. It was a nightmare, surely one he would wake up from soon enough, right? But the katana/vines that struck him in the shoulder, not realizing she got closer along with the master in tow of her, said otherwise. Laying on the concrete floor, looking around where the empyrean sits close by, he looks up to where they stood. Coldly, she spoke, “this is for my family, friends, the innocence you have hurt, and me. I hope you rot wherever they take you.” As if to make this any worse, the master, almost giddily (at least as close to being giddy as this man can be, a yokai, no less) spoke, “you have lost. Accept as much dignity as you can, for there is no way out for you. Not. Anymore.” He wanted to scream. Make any noise, tell them that they were wrong, but nothing. Not a goddamn thing made sense, as sirens were heard from afar, (or maybe something else, he wasn’t too sure) all he could think was how he fucking lost.
Noticing the policemen and paramedics surrounding him, he let the reality sink in that he was going away for a long time. As he had been placed with the paramedics to the hospital with police escorts, the police and paramedics turned around to help with the female and that master of her’s wounds as well as give their regards and thanks to the woman who helped give the signal to them and brought down the man they had been searching for years for to justice. But they didn’t see her, not even a trace of footsteps or blood trail to wherever she could’ve gone to. Disappearing almost entirely, but they had the strangest feeling that there was outside help she had that might’ve taken her back to wherever she came from. With a nod, they all went back to their respective vehicles, hoping that someday soon, her and that “master” of theirs are willing to come out and speak on behalf of what the hell just happened.
#here's the prologue#hopefully everyone enjoys it#I won't reveal what it's apart of yet#wanna see if people can guess which fandom it's for#celeste writes#writing
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Keeley and Jamie Meet
I've been writing so much Ted Lasso fan fiction, but seem to be totally incapable of focusing on one project at a time. So here's a JamieKeeley pre-canon fic I was working on today (feel free to brit-pick or critique, it's a rough draft)
The first time Keeley saw Jamie Tartt, she’d just come off a shoot with Shandy and Ellie and they’d gone to get drinks at a nice club to celebrate the end of the long workday. She was in her own club clothes — a single-strapped bodysuit paired with a pink miniskirt and strappy, tall hells — but her hair and makeup was all from the shoot, which had been eighties themed, and made her whole outfit look a bit odd.
Shandy and Ellie were out on the dance floor but Keeley’s feet hurt from her shoes and she decided to sit at the bar, sip overpriced drinks, and people-watch.
That was when she noticed Jamie. He was impossible to miss, in a loudly-patterned graffiti shirt unbuttoned far enough that Keeley could confirm he had a six-pack. He was at a table with a group of men, but he didn’t seem to be talking to any of them. He was scowling moodily and that should have been a red flag, but frankly it made his cheekbones look fucking fantastic.
It took Keeley only a moment to realize the group of men was a football team and then she had to roll her eyes at herself. She didn’t even care about football, but somehow football players were always exactly her type. Maybe some evil witch had put a curse on Keeley where she could only date sexy, sexy football players for all eternity. It was probably one of those curses that looked like a nice spell at first.
Keeley’s last boyfriend, Harry, had been a player for Brighton. They’d been together for six lovely months before Keeley had walked in on him fucking another girl and ended it on the spot. He’d blamed their long-distance relationship, never mind that Brighton was only an hour and a half away from London and he’d been in town almost every other weekend playing some London team.
After that, Keeley had decided she was done with football players. Maybe it was time to go back to girls.
Keeley finished her drink, the straw making a sucking sound against the bottom of the glass. A quick look around showed Shandy and Ellie were still dancing and didn’t seem put off by the men dancing on them, so Keeley began scanning the menu.
“Can I buy you a drink?” asked a man’s voice with a thick Mancunian accent. Keeley turned and saw it was the man from before, with the abs and the cheekbones, grinning cheekily at her.
Up close and with the helpful hint from his accent, Keeley realized she recognized him. This was Jamie Tartt, the kid from Man City who Harry had complained about for a whole week last season. Keeley had watched the Brighton- Man City game like a dutiful girlfriend, so she had seen when Man City had put Jamie Tartt on the field with ten minutes left on the game. The pundits had called it mad because though Man City had been leading 4-1, the cup hadn’t been secure in their hands, with the fate of the Premier League trophy depending not only on the Man City-Brighton game, but the Liverpool-Wolverhampton game as well. It was madness to put substitute a starting line player for a young benchwarmer like Jamie Tartt.
But Jamie had gotten the ball and run past Brighton’s defense — meaning Harry — and taken a shot on goal. The goalie had caught it, thank God, but Harry had been criticized in the papers after for letting a second team player like Jamie Tartt slip past him.
Keeley had quickly gotten tired of hearing Harry complain about Jamie Tartt. Then Harry had gotten into bed with some random girl and his complaining hadn’t been her problem anymore.
“You’re Jamie Tartt,” Keeley said.
Jamie grinned smugly, tongue between his teeth. “I am. I saw you looking at me. Thought I’d come over and say hi.”
Keeley scoffed and shook her head. “What? So you hit on any girl who looks your way?”
“Only the fit ones,” Jamie said. “And there’s no one fitter than Keeley fucking Jones.”
Keeley’s eyebrows went up. She wasn’t sure Jamie’s exact age, but it was getting more and more rare for young footballers to recognize her. Harry had been 26, almost her own age, and had no bloody clue who she was when they’d first met.
Right, Harry. Keeley was done with footballers, no matter how fit or flattering they may be.
“You can buy me a drink,” she said. “But I’m not going home with you.”
Jamie pouted, his bottom lip actually sticking out. It was ridiculous. It was endearing. “Why not?”
“Because I don’t owe you anything for a drink,” Keeley said. She’d been in this position before, with far too many men who thought spending a few pounds on drinks meant they’d bought the right to take her home.
“What about a dance?” Jamie asked.
“No.”
“A chat, then?”
“No.”
“Come on,” he pleaded, pressing into her space with a smile. “You might like me.”
“Jamie,” Keeley said tightly, holding up a hand to stop him. “I said no.” She’d been right to establish boundaries right away, because it was clear he didn’t know how to respect them.
Only Jamie surprised her. He stepped out of her space and flagged the bartender down. “One shot of vanilla vodka. And whatever the lady wants, yeah?”
“I’m not having sex with you,” Keeley reminded him.
The bartender, a pretty blonde woman, gave Keeley a supportive thumbs-up.
“It’s not a sex drink,” Jamie said. “It’s a sorry-for-being-a-dick drink, yeah? I didn’t mean to push. I thought we were playing, like.”
He seemed sincere, hands twisting in the bottom of his shirt, eyes wide on her like he was trying to read her expression. Maybe it was stupid of her, but Keeley believed him that he hadn’t meant to push her after she’d said no.
She turned to the bartender. “What’s your most expensive drink?”
The bartender gave Keeley a wicked smile. “If you want a cocktail, it’s the Elderflower-Plum Highball. If you mean overall, we have some bottles of champagne that cost near 200 pounds.”
Keeley raised her eyebrows at Jamie.
“Champagne, please,” he told the bartender.
The bartender smiled and winked at Keeley. She really was pretty. Maybe Keeley should take her home instead.
It only took a moment for the bartender to return with a bottle of champagne. She presented it to Keeley so she could read the label, then popped it carefully so the cork didn’t fly, the way they did at all the fancy places. Keeley had waitressed for a bit as a teenager, before her modeling career took off, and she knew that was harder than it looked.
The bartender pulled out a champagne glass and filled it, setting it in front of Keeley.
Keeley sipped the champagne. It was cold and bubbly and sweet. Keeley probably wouldn’t have spent £200 on it, but it was very good.
Beside her, Jamie did his shot of vanilla vodka with his eyes on her, looking pleased that she’d liked the champagne.
“I’m going back to my mates,” he said. “It was nice to meet you, Keeley Jones.”
Keeley didn’t know whether or not it had been nice to meet Jamie, so she didn’t say anything at all. He nodded his head and walked away, back to the football team that hadn’t even seemed to notice his absence.
The bartender leaned over the bar, smiling. “That was well clever of you.”
Keeley shrugged. “He was a dick. He deserved it.”
The bartender rolled her eyes, gesturing at the group of footballers. “They’re all dicks.”
“Yeah,” Keeley agreed. “Thanks for being my partner in crime.”
The woman’s eyes sparkled. “My pleasure.”
“I’m Keeley,” Keeley said. Introducing herself was a bit out of place in a casual conversation with a bartender, but Keeley had a feeling this wasn’t going to end here.
The bartender smiled. “Alice. You dead set on going home alone tonight?”
Ooh, yes, Keeley had been right. She leaned into the bar. “Not if a better option presents itself. Why, you got someone in mind?”
By the time Alice’s shift finished and she and Keeley fell into bed in Alice’s flat together, Jamie Tartt was the last thing on Keeley’s mind.
***
Keeley didn’t want to admit it, but she was getting old. Not old for a real person of course, but old for a model. The shelf-life for a beautiful woman didn’t go much past 30 and Keeley felt that birthday looming closer every day. She’d turned 29 last month and had to force a smile while she pretended to eat cake that wasn’t on her diet plan.
She wasn’t too old just yet — she still got gigs, including the modeling gig she’d just done earlier that day. But the offers had slowed down, companies turning to prettier, younger models to try to sell their merchandise with the promise of sex.
It meant Keeley had let her manager go, and was now scheduling her own gigs. She actually quite liked that part — maybe in a few years when she was too old for all of this, she could help the pretty young thing who’d taken her place to fill her calendar with modeling gigs, club appearances, and commercials. But all that meant that Keeley was standing morosely at the bar, feeling just a little too old and a little too drunk, when the man from last week came up to her again.
“Jamie Tartt,” she said.
“Keeley Jones,” he said, in that cute Mancunian accent of his.
“Are you stalking me?”
“No, I swear,” Jamie said, putting his hands up like he was protesting his innocence. “You’ve just got good taste in clubs, I guess.”
Keeley hummed. “Buy me a drink?”
She was pushing it, but he laughed and flagged down the bartender. He ordered a double shot of vanilla vodka and she ordered a jaegerbomb on his tab.
“Is this still an apology?” she asked.
Jamie’s eyes went wide. “Shit Keeley, are you trying to drink me out of house and home? How expensive is an apology?”
Keeley laughed. “It’s not like you can’t afford it, playing for the winners of the Premier Cup.”
The smile faded from Jamie’s face. “I’m not at City right now, actually. I’m on loan to fucking Richmond.”
He looked genuinely annoyed about it.
“Sorry,” Keeley said. “Even my ex said Richmond aren’t great, and he plays for Brighton.”
Jamie brightened. “You know football.”
“A bit,” Keeley admitted. “I’ve dated a lot of footballers.”
Jamie frowned. “So it’s just me you’ve got a problem with?”
“No,” Keeley said. “I don’t have a problem with you. Buy me another drink?”
Jamie frowned, his head tipping to the side. “Aren’t you going to tell me you’re not going home with me?”
Keeley shrugged. “It’s a new week. I might.”
Jamie’s eyes went wide. He really was fit, with a narrow waist, abs she could see through his shirt (open down to his navel again), and a jawline that could cut glass. He wore his hair gelled up like a dick and Keeley had sworn off footballers after Harry, but he was young and talented and fit and he didn’t seem to care that they’d had to photoshop Keeley’s smile lines at the shoot today.
He didn’t care that she was old.
Jamie bought her another drink and Keeley gave him a smile and went off to dance with her friends. The music was loud and the lights were bright and on the dance floor, Keeley still felt young. She danced with a few men, dodged a few kisses and groping hands, then made her way to the loo. When she came out, she walked past a table of footballers.
Jamie, with two others she didn’t recognize. She went up to Jamie again. “Buy me a drink?”
The two other boys whistled and Jamie got a cocky smile on his face but still shushed his friends. He bought Keeley another drink and she waved and him and went back to the dance floor.
She danced for another hour before her feet started to hurt and the dance floor began to feel too hot. A quick glance showed Jamie was still sitting at a table with his friends, so Keeley went to the bar, ordered a drink, then made her way over.
“Vanilla vodka for you,” she said, pressing the shot into Jamie’s hand and sliding into his lap at the same time. He sloshed the drink a little as he moved to catch her, one hand stiffly at her shoulder like he wasn’t sure she wanted to be touched but was even less sure she wanted to be dumped on the floor.
Keeley leaned in to whisper in Jamie’s ear. “Take me home.”
Jamie pulled back, genuine surprise in his eyes. “Yeah?”
It made something warm in Keeley — something besides all the alcohol. He’d actually listened to her — he really hadn’t been buying her drinks just to get into her pants. Maybe that was a low bar, but fuck it, Keeley was drunk and she wanted to feel young and stupid for one more night.
“Yeah,” Keeley said, biting her bottom lip and nodding.
Jamie knocked the shot back and stood in a hurry, lifting Keeley to her feet with those fancy footballer muscles.
“G’night lads,” he told the other two boys. Then he led Keeley out of the club.
#ted lasso#ted lasso fanfiction#jamie tartt#keeley jones#jamie x keeley#jamiekeeley#mia writes fanfic
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i spent most of this week's fun writing time trying to wrangle my brain into finishing arranged marriage (the first part's done! i just need to let it marinate for a couple of days and use fresh eyes to make sure i've wrung most of the awkward out), but here's part of the new thing i let myself write as a little treat. i have zero plans for it other than, vaguely, shenansies.
Klaus retreated to the permanent privacy of his and Caroline’s spelled suite, a home décor must when your children were the world’s only tribrid, the last Heretic confirmed to still live, and the blackest witch since Dahlia herself had slithered the Earth, were prone to dropping by unannounced, and not at all inclined to limit their expressions of disgust at any indication of parental intimacy.
The first time Lizzie burst into their bedroom uninvited, the resulting chaos convinced him of the necessity of that. In the end, Hope managed to throw the much taller, squirming girl, still shrieking about her mother being defiled, over her shoulder and staggered all the way out of their house. Caroline had been tempting in nothing but an artfully draped bedsheet, cheeks flushed pink with her paroxysms of embarrassed laughter, but Klaus resigned himself to not bedding her without an appointment again until he could bribe Freya into warding it to hell and back.
Decades older, now, their children might be, but part of them would always stay as young as they appeared.
Collapsing onto the settee and sprawling out into the corner, he sipped his bourbon and pulled up contact information he had only very rarely had occasion to use over the years.
When she answered his call, it was in a hoarse, exhausted alto. “We can be at Heathrow in two hours.”
“Pardon me?”
“Yes, if you want me to fix whatever you or the girls have got yourselves into this time, Enzo is coming with me.” On the other end of the line, there was a rusting and shifting of mattress and linen and then the soft padding of the witch’s bare feet on creaking, old hardwood. “And I don’t care how much he provokes you. I don’t care how many times he hugs them or how many cutesy nicknames he uses. I don’t care how obnoxious he is, because if he truly steps over the line, you know Care feels remarkably little guilt about punching men in the dick.”
An understatement if there was ever one. Once, a visiting older vampire had, evidently, grown particularly weary of remaining among the reanimated and taken his chances in groping Caroline aggressively enough that his fingers had gone places she was of the firm opinion they did not belong. She’d punched him so hard; his genitals had been pulped. By the time Klaus got involved, he found her berating the man for his sartorial choices while grinding her stiletto into whatever was left. Not that he thought it an overreaction, but it was a tad hypocritical of her to object when he added the vampire to his decorative skull collection.
“So, Enzo isn’t staying home, and you’re not allowed to maim, torture, or kill him in any way, shape, or form.” There was the click of a light switch and then hushed, domestic noises: the clink of metal against metal, water poured, loose tea measured, the click of an electric kettle turning itself off. “Now, who’s the fuck up this time?”
That was fair, he supposed. After all, he’d never contacted the witch except in times of crisis. Caroline’s kidnappings had petered out over the years, and stopped altogether when the last coven to conceive of a supposedly foolproof plan hadn’t lasted past the attempted nabbing. Between Hope’s pathological distrust of witches, aside from her aunts and the twins—understandable, in Klaus’s opinion, given the circumstances of his daughter’s existence—the lingering remnants of Lizzie’s hero worship of her mother—again, understandable—and Josie’s slightly deranged loyalty to the parent who had spent decades trying to fix what Alaric had broken—bit of a pattern emerging—the girls could not be relied upon to have a reasonable response.
Caroline hadn’t even scolded them overmuch for not firing a warning shot before turning her abductors into smears of ash and blood. She’d never been the sort to get a kick out of her own kidnappings, unless she’d had a hand in planning them.
“Believe it or not, we currently number among us not a single fuck up. There’s no emergency.”
Bonnie set something glass down with a hard thump. “Why the Hell did you wake me up at 4:30 in the morning, then?”
“Well, I don’t exactly keep up to date with your itinerary, witch,” Klaus replied with ire to match. “You’re capable of ignoring a call when abed, are you not? Besides,” Klaus continued to avoid being hung up on, “the girls do need help. Urgently.”
She sighed and the sounds of her preparing her tea resumed. “Fine. What terrible ideas do I need to save them from this time? If they’re harassing Damon and Elena’s kids again, I want plausible deniability and am ending this call.”
“Worse.” Klaus slumped lower and gave his drink a despairing sip. “They’ve decided it’s Caroline’s and my fiftieth anniversary in October and have their little hearts set on a family destination celebration.” He let that sink in for a moment before finally arriving at the crux of the problem. “The entire family.”
“Shit.”
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Do you have any advice for fan fiction writers who aren't getting many readers etc? I feel like giving up some days but I love writing and find fan fiction my personal therapy if that makes sense. I'd love any advice you can give or any suggestions. 💕
Well, honestly I'm not any kind of authority so take whatever I say with a grain of salt. Because honestly, I never really thought I'd get any kind of following to begin with 😕 this surprised me, and still does to this day, more than anyone. When I started posting my first fic (very nervously and through the feeling like I was going to throw up) I thought "well, I'll just write a few chapters and probably no one will ever read it and I'll get bored and it'll be out of my system." And now here we are, and I have no idea how that happened 😳
What advice I can give is, you can't write for the sake of other people. I know that sounds cheap as hell because the whole point of sharing fic is to get feedback and interact with others in the fandom, but really at the heart of it you have to just write stories that you like and you want to read above everything else. Keep writing. Keep growing. Keep refining your work and your style so no matter what the view count is, you know you're becoming a better writer regardless. And truth be told, you never know what idea or fic will hit with readers and what won't. You may write something and think oh no one is gonna gaf about this and then out of nowhere, that's what people love. It happens more than you know.
Another thing is - and this is going to sound harsh at first but bear with me please - in this day and age sadly you have to manage your expectations. Not because you don't deserve more readers or comments or because your work isn't good, but because the culture of fandom and fanfic/fanart is changing, and not for the better. There's dozens of posts that make the rounds on here passively warning people about how a lot of writers and artists are getting burned out and fed up with the lack of reciprocal community from their audience. Tiktok and IG and all that shit has kind of ruined the landscape of fandom because now everything is seen as just consumption based. More and more people read a fic and move on, binge a show and move on, burn through a fandom's entire AO3 content in 3 months and move on, and it sucks. I mean when you look at fandoms of old, the days of Xena and Buffy for example, a lot of those fans are still around and still participating and still creating work even though the show/fandom/ships are long gone. You don't really see that loyalty much anymore, and it becomes a cycle of the fandom shrinking and then the feedback and comments and support grinds to a halt, and then creators stop feeling like wasting hours of their life to pour themselves into work that gets maybe a handful of comments even though they see hundreds or thousands of people have read it. It just sucks all around. So expecting to see the numbers that a fic did even 3-5 years ago, sadly, just isn't going to happen.
BUT
I do also know this, the Clexa fandom has been one of the best fandoms I've ever been in, both as just a fan on the outskirts and someone who tries to contribute. I've found Clexas to be funny and welcoming and we have a core group of fucking awesome and loyal, supportive readers, but the thing is you have to keep going. Sometimes building an audience and a regular group of readers takes time. Name recognition matters. Yes there are writers out there that are just synonymous with the fandom, but there's other writers (hi yes hello me, I mean me lol) who came late to the party and it's taken some time to get people to see their work. Tagging things and reblogging, talking in tags, reaching out to other people in the fandom and making friends who want to help you with your work because you help support theirs. All that stuff. It makes a difference. Damn near every week or so I get a new reader saying "wow idk how I hadn't heard of you before/read your stuff before but I'm glad I found it, keep going!" And that 100% will never have even the possibility of happening if you stop writing!
In the end, you just have to decide what's best for you. If this feels incredibly unhelpful I truly am sorry, I wish I had better advice to give you but I'm as clueless to this all as you are. But 2 things I do know for sure without a doubt? One, there is a place for you in any fandom, and your work does matter. There is an audience out there who want to read what you have to write and they'll love it. And two, in the end just be kind to yourself. Love yourself and be proud of yourself for trying, and for being creative and growing your work. Fanfic is supposed to be fun, writing about your favorite blorbos is meant to be fun, even if more often than not it feels like the equivalent of just dancing alone in your kitchen. Ya get what I mean?
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i'm sorry i'm going through another phase again i just need to get this out of my system or i'm gonna explode. i can't remember if i posted it on both here and instagram or just instagram but either way i've told this story before but i'm telling it before out of…necessity i guess?? accountability?? some sort of imposter syndrome i've developed from it?? back when i was 12 or so i got into this ship that was relatively popular in the fanbase but was controversial due to the age discrepancy between the characters - some wikis and firsthand sources said one of the characters was underage, others said they were of age (14 to be 16 by the sequel and 16 to be 18 by the sequel respectively). i've always been vehemently antiship or whatever the hell it's called and believed that within the context of the story it wouldn't make sense for the character to be as young as some sources say they were, a belief which only got further enforced when i was i think either 13 or 14 and got really involved with the current fandom at the time here on this website, with creators and supports of the ship that I admired putting together entire essays and shit digging through decade-old interviews to show that the character was of age. and i believed it! i was in this fandom and ship for like 3-4 years and during that time i drew fanart after fanart, wrote fanfic after fanfic, i fucking wrote smut, because i trusted the creators i looked up to and thought the detractors just didn't do enough research. surprise! i had my head completely up my own ass and was so balls deep in denial i don't even know what i was thinking. i had already started to stray from the fandom in mid-2022 or so and after i got a comment on a fanfic i had written like a year earlier showing me a more recent interview that confirmed the character to be underage everything just came crashing down. i deleted every fanfic i had published, basically went radio silent on my main blog before deleting or archiving all of that too. i haven't touched the fandom for that game ever since and that brings us to today, where i'm once again writing about it because i…almost feel like i haven't had enough accountability taken for it?? i don't feel like a deserve all these followers, i don't feel like i deserve this platform, because i don't feel like a lot of these people would follow me if they knew what i had done. if i was in their shoes, would i follow someone who half-wittingly made (occasionally nsfw) content of a proship when they were young? i probably wouldn't, no matter how much they regret it, and i certainly wouldn't feel comfortable with them being in the fandom again. that's why i wish so desperately i could delete my main blog because that's where everything happened and i wish i could just put it behind me. but that's the thing, am i sweeping all of this under the rug by almost never mentioning this and deleting all the content, or am i taking accountability by deleting everything i made so it can't be accessed by younger people like i was at the time? i don't know. some days i give myself leniency by saying i was a young teenager, a minor myself who was misled by adults i looked up to and took accountability when i was proven wrong, other days i feel like a hypocritical monster who had his head too up his own ass to acknowledge his mistakes until i had gone off the deep end. i don't feel like i deserve this blog, or this platform, or the creative spaces i've been given, not with everything muddling my past, no matter how young or easily impressionable i was, not with the knowledge i could've easily influenced other young and easily impressionable creators like me who looked up to me and just made a horrible cycle. i don't know. i'm sorry for all this word vomit, and i'm sorry for being an idiot
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