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saetoru · 2 years

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#TOP OF THE CLASS! — GETO SUGURU.

「 SYNOPSIS 」 ⋮ geto + virgin killing - your TA is nice, and more importantly, handsome. accidentally sending him nudes makes you realise he's also inexperienced

♱ kinktober ⋮ find the masterlist here !!

♱ pairing ⋮ college TA! geto suguru x student! reader

♱ length ⋮ 5.5k words (she tried okay. she did)

♱ contents ⋮ nsfw and 18+ content, fem! reader, college! au, TA! geto, student! reader, med! student shoko, forging of legal documents (shoko forges you a doctor’s note lol), mentions of drinking + being under the influence, unprofessional relationships, explicit photography (taking + accidentally sending nudes), virgin! + inexperienced! geto, semi-public sex (in a campus office), teasing, humiliation, mentions of male masturbation, handjobs, blowjobs, nipple play, fingering, riding, praise kink, unprotected sex, creampie, multiple orgasms, overstimulation

♱ notes ⋮ here is the first kinktober post i hope you all enjoy and HAPPY OCTOBER ITS MY FAV SEASON

the first rule of being a college student is having good time management. that should’ve been something you remembered before saving this paper for the last minute—because now you’re beginning to regret overestimating your ability to finish all the research and the required components and hit the word count. and then you have to cite your sources—which is a pain, and the clock isn’t slowing even a little as it ticks away closer and closer to the deadline.

you’re doomed, finished for the semester before you could’ve even fully begun. you’re counting your moments to failure for a class you absolutely need to graduate. this paper is thirty percent of your grade—how could you have been so careless as to leave it so last minute?

“it’s useless,” you moan woefully into your phone, making shoko snort as you hear her continue to type away on her keyboard. it hits you that if shoko of all people is further along her paper than you—the same shoko that cheats on everything—then you’ve really let yourself go. “i’m never going to finish this on time,” you mutter.

“i told you to get started earlier,” she says matter of factly, almost with enough i told you so energy in her voice that you’re two seconds from storming over to her apartment and smashing her laptop to bits. but shoko has a point—even if you refuse to acknowledge it since…well, it’s shoko, after all.

“i’m not on call with you to lecture me,” you grumble, “i’m on call with you to help me find a solution. you think if i offer the TA a blow job, he’ll give me an A?”

shoko snorts, pausing her typing as if she’s actually contemplating the idea. “maybe, honestly. you know he’s our age, and he’s like years ahead of us? probably too busy with school to get any bitches,” she laughs, making you roll your eyes as a smile tugs at your lips no matter how hard you try to fight it.

“you know what, you might be right,” you chuckle. you almost feel bad for joking at his expense—your TA is nice, he’s young and kind and understanding, he takes time to slowly go over things when people have questions, he answers emails politely and quickly no matter how stupid the reason, he and has sensible rules that aren’t too strict. and, if you’re being honest, he’s rather handsome. “i wouldn’t mind giving him a blow job though,” you hum, “he’s cute.”

“gross,” shoko gags, “geto suguru is not cute.”

“he is too,” you argue, furrowing your brows as you huff, “he’s probably one of the few men i’ve seen who make a man bun work. and i know he’s ripped under that sweater, he has to be. i saw him leave the gym the other day, and his arms were huge.”

“he’s probably just trying to get bitches,” shoko snorts, “i bet he’s a virgin.”

“shut up,” you laugh, and for a moment, your mind wanders to your stupidly handsome TA.

you shouldn’t be thinking about him this way—fantasizing about anyone who grades your papers is a line you shouldn't really cross, but you can’t help it. your thoughts turn into what hearing his smooth, deep voice would be like if he moaned into your ear, or what his bangs would look like stuck to his sweaty forehead, or what his abs would look like clenching as he cums, or how breathless he’d sound as he whispers your name—

“wait, i just had an idea,” shoko interrupts your thinking with a gasp, making you shake out of your (very dirty) thoughts as you blink.

you clear your throat, trying your best not to sound flustered as you speak. “i’m scared to ask what the idea is—you’re not really known for having good ones,” you say warily. you can practically see her eyes roll without her being there with you—you’ve been friends with shoko long enough to know her like the back of your hand. and if you know her like you think you do, her idea is about to cause you a lot of stress.

“well, looks like i’m never trying to help you again,” she scoffs, “i could’ve written you a doctor’s note with a few of the copies i managed to snatch—but since you don’t want my help—”

“no, wait! you’re a genius,” you gasp happily, grinning wide as shoko huffs through the phone and mutters something faintly similar to ungrateful under her breath, “i could kiss you on the lips right now.”

“no thank you. you suck,” she hisses. you only giggle, relief flooding through your bones that maybe your grade is saved—and all thanks to having a friend who works in a doctor’s office. you silently send the universe your gratitude for having your best friend pursue a career in the medical field—the perks prove to be quite beneficial, it seems.

“just send me a picture of it and make it seem like i’m too sick to work on the paper, and i’ll tell him i won’t finish in time. a one day extension should be enough.”

“where would you be without me,” she grumbles quietly, “i’ll send it to you in a second. now please let me finish my paper in peace.”

“okay. love you, you’re the best.”

“i hate you.” the line clicks and you giggle, happily celebrating that you most likely have a saved grade and a free night to yourself now that shoko has so kindly offered you a solution. and of course, you’ll take this as a learning curve and appropriately plan to give yourself enough time for the next paper.

it’s not long before your phone dings and shoko’s contact pops up on your screen with, sure enough, a doctor’s note with today’s date and reason for the visit. shoko has even taken the liberty to make you seem contagious—just so you can skip class tomorrow for good measure. beaming, you text a quick thanks bestie <3 in response—too happy to even care that she sends you an emoji flipping you off.

and it doesn’t take you long to craft the email either, making sure to properly address him with a greeting, adding apologies for the inconvenience—and as the icing on the cake, a promise that it won’t ever happen again in the future. you click the photo to upload the doctor’s note, and without even a second thought, you click send.

and then within the split second that the email sends, and you realize just which photo you’ve accidentally clicked, your life flashes before your eyes.

“no,” you mumble, “no no no,” you chant as you quickly open the email you’ve sent, eyes wide and throat dry.

the photo is not the picture of the doctor’s note shoko sent—instead, it’s the picture right under it in your camera roll. the picture that’s not very suitable for sending your TA. the picture of your tits, just barely covering your nipples with your arm. the picture you took through giggles while changing after getting a little tipsy the night before (you’d felt just a tad bit sexy in your makeup.)

you sit in silent shock as you register that you just sent your TA your nudes—and just to make matters worse, he responds almost instantly, making your heart drop as you stare at his emailed reply with a shaky hand holding up your phone.

please meet me in my office tomorrow before class so we can discuss the above email.

suddenly, your worries are a lot more complicated than simply failing a class.

———————————————

you barely slept the night before, if at all, to be completely honest with yourself. the worst-case scenario runs through your head the entire time you toss and turn in bed. geto is probably going to report this, and then you’ll get expelled, and then you’ll never make it with a successful career, and then you’ll never be able to show your face to anyone you know again.

your feet are as heavy as lead as they drag along the walk to his room, and you contemplate turning back and never showing up to his office, maybe simply even just refusing to ever return to campus at all. maybe you can move countries and start over somewhere else—maybe you can change your name and make a new life for yourself.

but instead, you take a deep breath and knock on the door, waiting until you hear a soft come in before you enter. geto is seated at the desk, typing away at his laptop before meeting your eyes as you walk in.

“uh…hi,” you start, standing awkwardly by the door.

“hello,” he says, eyeing you slightly before looking back at his screen. if he has any ill feelings about last night, he does a good job of hiding it—you can’t read a single emotion on his face. somehow, that makes things worse. “have a seat,” he gestures at the chair across from him on the other side of the desk, waiting for you to seat yourself nervously in front of him.

you sit down, watching as he opens his mouth to start—but you begin speaking before he can. “look, i know that email was really inappropriate, and i’m really sorry—it was an accident, i swear! i meant to click on the picture above it, and i didn’t realize—”

“i understand,” he cuts you off as he holds a hand up, offering you a kind smile that makes you tilt your head in confusion, “it’s fine.” fine. fine? he’s…just fine with it? he’s just willing to let you off the hook? “i’m not much older than you,” he chuckles, “i’m not foreign to these things. i’m sure you’re active in…that aspect of your life.”

oh god—why you? why of all people did this have to be you? why is the world so hellbent on making your life miserable in every aspect?

you eye the coiled wires of the phone on his desk, and you contemplate strangling yourself with them before he can say something anymore embarrassing. but, you have to admit—this is far better than being told you’ve been reported to the dean for misconduct.

“i’m really sorry if it made you uncomfortable,” you fiddle with your fingers as you avoid his gaze, “i really did mean to send you a doctor’s note. i just didn’t realize i hit the picture under it.”

“like i said, it’s okay,” he reassures. calm. he’s almost too calm about this. too okay with it. almost like…like he didn’t mind at all in the first place.“but i wanted to make sure you’re aware of how fragile photos like that are.”

“huh?” you raise a brow. now, this is not where you expected the conversation to steer. you expected a lecture on how sending an educator your explicit photos is highly unprofessional, that it’s unacceptable and suggests other things—things that are completely against the rules and completely out of question to even consider.

“i mean, photos like those getting into the wrong hands can lead to really bad predicaments,” geto continues, clearing his throat as he closes his laptop and meets your gaze. he looks you dead in the eye as he speaks his next words, “and i wouldn’t want sensitive content of you circulating around campus.”

“right,” you nod slowly, “it’s not like i send them around, or anything. i was just a bit drunk that night, and i was in my room bored, and my makeup was cute so i was feeling good about myself…and…and…yeah…” you trail off.

why are you even explaining this to him in such detail? you silently curse yourself in your head, beating yourself up for running your mouth so much.

“oh, that’s good to know,” he nods, “i’m glad to hear that. no one else has possession of these photos?”

you eye him slowly, “nope,” you confirm. “just you—by accident, of course.”

you’re not sure if you imagine it, or if the situation as a whole is making you overinterpret everything that’s happening—but you’re almost certain you hear his breath hitch a little. he’s no longer looking at you, no longer burning you under his gaze like he was just a minute ago.

“right, by accident,” he repeats. it’s slow, like he’s reminding himself, like he has to speak slowly to process the information. “well, i hope this serves as a lesson for being more careful next time. you don’t want young men to save such pictures of yourself for ulterior motives.”

geto suguru, your teacher’s assistant for intro to literature 1301, seems to be rather invested in your well-being—more than a TA really should be. if you didn’t know any better, you’d say he’s almost disappointed that you sent him a significantly revealing photo of yourself by accident instead of intentionally. and, if you squint just a little, it almost seems like he doesn’t want anyone else to have the pictures. not because he’s concerned for you—but rather, because he wants to be the only one who’s seen them.

your thoughts from last night come flooding back, how he’s probably well built under his shirt, how shoko thinks he’s still a virgin, and especially how he probably looks and sounds when he’s overwhelmed with pleasure. and geto suguru might think he has you cornered like a cat would a mouse, but what he doesn’t know is that you’ve been the serpent the whole time, fangs ready to sink into him and devour him whole.

“you know, you seem like you speak from experience,” you can’t help but grin slightly.

now, logically speaking, this is wrong—this is pushing the kindness he so graciously showed you. by now, you should be fighting back tears as you figure out a way to break the news to everyone you know that you’ve had to receive an expulsion for sending your TA nudes. by now, your life should’ve been at an all time low, so you really shouldn’t be testing your luck.

but geto has practically seen your tits, so you’re not really sure there’s any point in acting like an angel around him—and he’s so incredibly hot in that button up shirt of his, sleeves rolled halfway up his arm. plus, the thought of him being your inexperienced TA, one who lets you strip him of his innocence as you slowly taint his purity—it excites you a little more than it really should.

he clears his throat, not meeting your eyes. this time, yours bore into him through a searing gaze that almost makes him shift uncomfortably.

“well, like i said, i am around your age, so i know how men’s minds work when it comes to these things—”

“so then tell me,” you raise a brow, smirking slightly as his jaw clenches, “is it because your mind works the same way?”

“now—”

“did you save my tit pics to your phone?” you ask bluntly. he hides the choked cough through a clearing of his throat—bingo, you think. almost instantly, the room shifts to him being nervous under your gaze as you eye him smugly.

something about sweet, kind, successful geto suguru, young and ambitious with a perfect gpa and a flawless resume, being hot and bothered by your breasts makes you swell with pride—and you think maybe…maybe giving him a blow job might not be such an outlandish thought after all.

maybe he wants it to be a reality just as badly as you do.

“w-what are you implying—”

“did they turn you on?” you interrupt, watching as his cheeks heat up a slight flush of pink, “did you wish i’d moved my arm down so you could get the full view?” he clears his throat, opening his mouth to speak, but you don’t give him the chance. “was that the first nude you’ve ever been sent?”

“i think that’s enough,” he says sternly, but his voice is slightly higher in pitch—which tells you everything you need to know. and you’re enthused. “keep in mind, i could have every intention to notify the dean of these—”

“but suguru,” you pout, rolling his first name off your tongue so sweetly, he can’t help but be hungry for another taste of something so decadent, “if you tattle on me, you’ll never get a chance to actually see my nipples this time,” you giggle, “isn’t that what you want?”

“i—”

“i wonder,” you grin wickedly, “did you act like every other guy our age and jack off to a random girl’s tits?”

you must hit close to home because he lets out a shaky exhale, jaw tight and fists clenched as his knuckles turn pale. he swallows thickly before finally meeting your eyes, face a deep shade of crimson as you grin at him widely.

“i…i’m not…immune to things of that nature,” he finally admits, voice strained as your grin widens. almost instantly, you’re standing up, locking the door behind you and making your way over to his side of the desk without hesitation. the cards have been dealt in your hand, all that’s left is to play them—and you’re pleased to say that the game is heavily leaning in your favor.

“wanna show me?” you ask with a sultry voice, “wanna show me how you fucked your fist last night? i’ll even let you see my nipples this time around,” you murmur as you seat yourself on his lap.

geto scoots his chair back and makes room for you, breathing heavily as his pants strain with the tent already forming in them. his breath hitches when your hand rubs over his erection—and he curses himself for being so pathetic as to let a few words from you let him get riled up like this. but you’re so pretty—always have been.

you sit in class and chew on the top of your pen, making it hard to avert his attention from your mouth. you tilt your head and furrow your brows so cutely when you’re confused, making it hard for him to concentrate on what he’s teaching. you laugh so sweetly out of glee when you do something correctly, and your voice shoots right through his heart—and sometimes, as ashamed as he is to admit it, straight to his dick too.

and he’s well aware of how bad of an idea this is, but this is everything he’s ever dreamt about—right here under the palm of his hands. literally. so he grips your hips tightly, bringing you to rub over him through your own pants. the friction makes him throw his head back, moaning quietly as your clothed cunt drags along his length. you chuckle, palms gliding over his chest through his shirt and feeling the firm muscle under your hands.

“does that feel good?” you ask, making him stifle a whimper as you glide over his nipples through his shirt.

your hands move to unzip his pants—and the best part? he lets you. he sits back and lets you free his aching cock from its confinements, he lets you wrap your fingers around his thick girth and squeeze gently, and he lets you pull the soft, low moans you’ve fantasized of hearing from his lips as you smear his pre cum along his shaft and stroke him slowly.

“f-fuck,” he grunts, hips bucking into your hand, lips tugging between his teeth as he pants harshly with every squeeze at the base of his cock. and because you really can’t help it, you lean down to kiss along his jaw, making your way to his neck and nibbling at his skin. he groans, whispering your name—it makes your thighs squeeze together as a dull ache forms between your own legs. “feels…feels so good,” he mumbles breathlessly, “so different when you do it.”

you giggle, watching him carefully so as not to miss a single reaction. “oh yeah? you know, shoko said you were probably a virgin,” you purr against his ear, making his hands clutch onto your hips tighter, “you seem to be proving that theory right.”

“d-don’t stop,” he pleads when your hand slows, making his hips thrust sloppily into your fist and try to keep your earlier pace going. but you’re mean—just a tad bit cruel, and you wanna see him ooze with shame. so you squeeze on his cock, stilling the movement and making him rasp as he buries his head into your neck with a whine.

“are you a virgin, suguru?” you hum, stroking his hair soothingly—but it contradicts the teasing tone of your voice.

his face burns in your neck, “yes,” he mumbles quietly, like the admission stings.

“how cute,” you pout, “so no one’s ever sucked your dick before?” he shakes his head slowly into the crook of your neck—but it’s not nearly as satisfying when he’s hiding, so you pull his face away despite his initial protesting. “i want to hear it,” you say firmly.

“fuck—no,” he groans, his face an even deeper shade of red than you thought was possible, “no, no one has ever…you know…”

“sucked your dick?” you grin.

“stop,” he whines. you chuckle quietly before climbing off his lap and sinking down to your knees before him, looking up at his shocked face with a smirk.

“wanna know something?” you hum, “i’ve thought about sucking your dick.”

“thinking about you TA like that?” he huffs a chuckle—but whatever semblance of composure he had, he loses as soon as you press a gentle kiss to the tip of his flushed cock, reddened and swollen at the head as beads of pre cum leak from the slit.

“just like you jack off to your student,” you shoot back, “you want it, suguru? do you want me to make you feel good?”

“god—yes,” he hisses, “get on with it,” he says as he’s throwing you a glare when you snicker up at him from in between his legs. you run your tongue along the tip, humming as you take in the taste of him before wrapping your lips around him and taking him down your throat.

the reaction is instant—geto slumps back against his chair, gasping as you swallow around him, bobbing your head up and down his length. you loosen your jaw, fucking him with your mouth, letting your tongue drag along the thick vein running across the underside of his cock. his hand falls to the top of your head while the other grips the armrest of his chair, skin turning white over his knuckles as he tightens his hold with each time the warmth of your mouth swallows around him.

“oh—g-god, shit that’s it,” he grunts, hips bucking into your throat as you pick up your pace. “feels fuckin’ amazing—oh, fuck.”

your hand wraps around the base of his member, pumping what won’t fit in your mouth so no part of him is left neglected. and when your other hand reaches for his balls, rolling the sensitive sacs in your hand and squeezing gently, he rewards you with a whine, voice lilting off to a high pitched moan as his hips thrust up instinctively. your nose brushes against his pelvis, and with a few more swallows, you feel him twitch in your mouth.

“fuck, fuck, ‘m c-close,” he pants, chest falling and rising erratically. you look up, watching through teary eyes as spit and pre cum dribble down your chin, taking in the pretty sight of his face flushed and his skin damp, bangs clinging to his forehead just like you imagined them to. “don’t stop—’m gonna cum…gonna…gonna make me cum,” he rasps.

you moan around him, and the vibrations send him over the edge, hips raising as he groans loudly. hot, thick ropes of his cum paint your mouth, seeping past your lips and dripping down your chin as you try your best to swallow what you can. geto sounds better than you expected—voice deep and raspy, but still the same smoothness it always holds even through the cracks as he brokenly calls your name.

the sound of his voice as he moans your name makes your walls clench around nothing and your clit throb. you let him fuck himself into your mouth through his high, riding out the last waves of his orgasm as pleasure burns through every nerve and every inch of him. when he finally slumps back into his chair, breathing harshly, you pull off of his cock, wiping the mess from your chin on your sleeve. and before you can open your mouth to tease him some more, you’re pulled back onto his lap, his mouth on yours, kissing you deep.

“this’ll have to be a secret,” he mumbles, “for both of us.”

for someone who’s never done anything like this before, geto rids you of your clothes almost expertly, lifting your shirt over your arms and sliding your pants off in an instant. he groans when his fingers trace over your clit—which you’re happy to know he can find—and feels the wetness of your slick drooling over the fabric.

“c’mon, suguru,” you hum, voice edging on a little impatient, “go ahead and touch a pussy for the first time.”

he huffs, yanking the fabric to the side before sinking his ring and middle fingers into you, knuckle deep as this thumb runs circles along your clit. you whine, grinding your hips down on his hand, impatiently waiting for him to move.

“for someone who’s experienced,” he grins, “you’re awfully impatient.”

you open your mouth to respond, but as soon as you try to retort, his fingers thrust into you, hitting the sensitive spot of your walls with ease and making you cut yourself off with a moan. he scissors his fingers, stretching you open as your head falls to his shoulder with soft whimpers, feeling him curl his digits deep into you. you whine as your clit hits over his palm, feeling the slow build up of the coil in your belly reach the snapping point.

“keep going,” you encourage, “‘m close, k-keep going—fuck, suguru!”

“god, you’re so pretty,” he breathes, watching as your head tips back and your mouth parts with a silent sob, watching as you break—all because of him. your walls spasm around his fingers as they bully into you and ride you through your orgasm, and your lips are slightly swollen from biting on them, eyes crinkled as you screw them shut, skin damp and glistening as sweat coats your forehead.

perfect—you look perfect, and suguru has fantasized about this image in his head for so long, he can hardly believe it’s a reality before him.

your hands find his long hair, tugging and twisting at the strands that slip between your fingers as the last few waves of your high crash over you.

the rest is a blur—somewhere through rough and sloppy kisses, through rolled hips and soft groans as you grind against each other, geto has managed to unclasp your bra, letting your tits bounce freely. his hands immediately cup around them, squeezing gently before his lips pull away and his eyes fall to your chest.

“fuck, they look better in person,” he grunts, rolling his thumbs over your pebbled nipples before pinching them lightly and rolling them between his fingers. you squeal, and your cunt is dripping—smearing your slick along his bare thigh as he teases over the sensitive skin. “feels good?” he mumbles.

“so good—don’t stop,” you moan, making his breath hitch in his throat. grinning, you open your eyes, hazy with lust, meeting his own unfocused gaze, “doing so well, suguru. making me feel so good.”

geto likes praise. you can tell that much alone from his hefty list of accomplishments on his resume. he’s beaming with pride the first day your professor introduces him in class while explaining how capable he is at his young age. he does a good job of staying humble, but you never fail to notice the twinge of excitement in his eyes when he’s praised for his impressive work ethic.

there’s no exception now either—his eyes search yours for every hint he can find that he’s doing a good job, that he’s doing well and giving you exactly what you want. you swear his cock twitches when you say the word good—and he seems to notice it too because there’s a shaky breath against your neck as he groans.

“fuck,” he breathes, hands falling to your hips and gripping tightly, desperately, when your hand grabs his throbbing cock, still hard and leaking pre cum from the reddened tip. “want to feel you,” he groans, “please.”

it’s all it takes for you to sink down on him, forehead pressing to his as you both moan against each other’s mouths. he’s big—long and thick, curved at an angle that makes him sink against your sweet spot almost perfectly, almost like he was made for you. it’s a shame he’s your TA, a small part of you almost feels a twinge of disappointment he can’t fully be yours.

“fuck, suguru,” you gasp, “so big, feels so good.”

he whines, helping lift your hips up and guide you down on his cock, your hips rolling against his, the sound of your moans and the slapping of skin filling up the small office. you’re sure anyone passing by could hear and figure out what’s going on—but it only thrills you more, making you slam down on him faster.

“so tight,” he grunts, “g-god, so fucking tight, i can’t—”

his hands are everywhere, they dig into your hips, glide up to cup your tits, and find the back of your neck to pull you close and meet your lips. he’s panting, sweat making strands of hair cling to his forehead as his skin flushes a deep shade of crimson. his hips buck up into you, meeting you halfway with desperate thrusts, trying to feel you deeper.

your head is spinning—not just from the way his thick girth splits you open, or from the way his tip slams against your spot so perfectly, but from the way his touch seems to light your skin up with every drag of his fingertips. and then he brings one hand down between your bodies, rubbing his thumb against your clit in harsh circles.

“are you gonna cum, suguru? cause i am,” you moan, “wanna be good and cum with me? fill me up nice and full?”

“sh-shit,” he lets out a shaky breath. he does want to fill you up—wants to cum deep into you so you’re dripping as you walk out of his office. so that when you sit in class and stare at him as he teaches class, you can’t help but think of the way he was buried to the hilt inside you just hours ago. “yeah…yeah, ‘m gonna cum. gonna fill you up, baby,” he groans, “stuff you full of my cum. want it?”

“wan’ it so bad, suguru,” you whine, “look so pretty when you cum, wanna see it again.”

and with a few more rolls of your hips, the squelching sounds of his cock slipping in and out of you all but drowned out but your pants, you fall off the edge—geto not far behind. you can feel his cock twitch as he shoots rope after rope of his thick cum into you, angling his hips up to fuck it deep into your pussy. it’s a mess, your slick mixed with his seed dripping along your thighs and coating your skin, but you can’t find it in you to care. and you also can’t find it in you to care that you’ll have to leave after this and see him again as you sit through his class. and you certainly don’t have it in you to care that you could both get in serious trouble if anyone realized this was happening.

instead, you cup his cheeks with a gentleness that makes his breath hitch in his throat with a strangled whine, and you kiss him, hard and deep.

“f-fuck, fuck—ngh, shit,” he gasps, against your mouth in labored pants. it’s never felt like this—cumming into his fist is one thing, but cumming into your tight walls, feeling them squeeze around him in sync with his high is something he doesn’t think he’ll ever be able to forget. he thinks you’ve ruined touching himself for him, thinks he’ll never be able to go back to being fine with just his hand to keep him company when he’s aching between his legs.

after this, geto isn’t sure how he’s supposed to just forget this happened—or about you. his hands don’t stop guiding you onto his cock, hips not ceasing to fuck up into you until you’re both whimpering from sensitivity.

it’s too much—but somehow, it’ll never be enough.

you slump over him when he finally slows down to a stop, bodies a sweaty heap against each other on his chair as his arms wrap around you and his lips find your damp forehead for a soft kiss. you turn your head, pressing a kiss to his jaw in return.

“so,” you wriggle your brows, “can this count as extra credit?” you ask cheekily, feeling his chest rumble with a low chuckle as he pulls you tighter against his chest.

“sure. i’ll even give you enough extra credit opportunities to be top of the class,” he grins.

#[ tee’s kinktober 22 👻 ]#teepods.writings #thirstee!#fics.#geto x reader #geto x you #geto smut #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk smut #geto suguru x reader #geto suguru x you #geto suguru smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen smut

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palmtreepalmtree · 1 month

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This is honestly still so shocking to me. As a California lawyer, I feel like it's difficult to understate the impact of John Eastman's fall.

Before Trump, John Eastman was a fixture of the California legal community. He was the Dean of Chapman University's law school for years. He was regularly interviewed in local media to get the conservative legal viewpoint, and even though I almost always disagreed with his positions, his reasoning was usually cogent and thoughtful. He clerked for Supreme Court Justice Clarence Thomas for fuck's sake (this is not a thing that stupid, sloppy, or thoughtless people can achieve or do--you can have bad and seriously wrong opinions, sure, but you can't be thoughtless).

I swear though, it sometimes feels like the entire conservative base has been captured by some kind of mania. He continues to insist that his prosecution is politically motivated. Even as his own witnesses collapsed on the lies he continues to peddle:

Testifying in Eastman’s defense was Michael Gableman, a former Wisconsin Supreme Court justice who has stated the election was stolen. But at the trial, Gableman admitted that his own 14-month inquiry into the election failed to prove that fraud cost Trump the election.

Another Eastman witness, John Yoo, a longtime friend and a Berkeley Law professor, testified that Joe Biden had won the White House “fair and square” and that Pence had “unassailable grounds” in refusing to reject electoral votes.

I mean, I guess at this point he just has to go all in on the lie. He allegedly says that his legal fees are going to cost him between $3 to $3.5 million and he's raised something like $500k for his legal defense.

But this doesn't sound like someone who is lying. It sounds like someone in a fucking cult:

[Eastman] said the bar trial was “extraordinary and unprecedented” but gave him a chance to present wider evidence of election fraud than had been previously aired. “It was eye-opening for a lot of people about the amount of illegality that we exposed during that trial,” Eastman said.

My dude, the Judge issued a 128 page ruling that found you guilty of 10 out of 11 counts of misconduct. Exactly what did you expose except your own ass?

Eastman portrays himself as a battling patriot who has been subjected to “false narratives and calumnies.” He said he is the victim of “lawfare,” an attempt to silence unpopular views with legal machinery.

“We are in a rather significant fight, and for whatever reason, I am the lead point of the spear in that fight, and I am taking it on, as I think my duty as a citizen requires,” he said. “We’ll do what it takes.”

My god, someone needs to fucking deprogram this guy.

Anyhow, this continues to be insane to me.

#i used to think the truth was somewhere in the middle #but the right has gone so far off the deep end #i don't even know where the middle is #can i even see the middle #just gonna stay over here on the left

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trlvsn · 9 months

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a thing im also very picky and pretentious about is the amount of fault people think lies with edgeworth and all of the innocent people he helped declare guilty. like. first of all this guy has always had a strict moral code, he had lines drawn, somehow, some way, he never even considered forging evidence and fabricating stuff, the most he did? dirty tricks that are still very legal. the updated autopsy report is a perfect example - he isn't manipulating the facts, he is manipulating the defense's emotions, levels of preparedness, giving himself the advantage of knowing things beforehand. is it still something that helped the innocent go to jail? yeah!

but what disturbs me is that people think his attitude after the unnecessary feelings realization is the right way to be. a prosecutor should NOT be actively aiding the defense, a prosecutor should not act against his side in the case, but in those particular scenarios, he had to. in an ideal, good system he wouldn't, because the defense and the prosecution would have equal power, but in this one? the one where defense attorneys literally don't take cases because a scary guy will be their opponent? in the one where the judge favors one side over and over again? he takes on the tricky job of balancing it all out and being, like, 80% prosecutor 20% defense attorney. point is - his character development isn't bad guy -> good guy, it's "guy who acts in accordance to the system, thinking he is doing what his job requires" -> "guy who understands the horrors and does his best for justice to be served, merging the sides of the court and honestly being very much beyond phoenix and everyone else in his understanding of the fucked-upness of the system". you know. he didn't go from improper prosecutor to proper prosecutor, he did the exact opposite, actually. so did phoenix in aa4!! so did everyone who Knew, hence the spirit channeling allowed in court and miles pretending to be a defense attorney in aa3 and phoenix breaking 2043 laws while investigating and eeeeverything else.

anyways, back to my original point - judging edgeworth for the lives of the innocent or whatever becomes complicated not only because of the influence manfred von karma had on him since the ripe age of nine, but also because he was literally doing what the unspoken job requirements were, what the standard was. and the ace attorney death penalty laws are fucked up on their own but that's a whole different conversation

#this is a mess but it's too hot for me to write a properly worded thing rn #miles edgeworth #ace attorney #someone once said i talk like a mad scientist on here and like. yeah

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perseephoneee · 4 months

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(For Ficmas 2023) Isaac Lahey and cookie decorating

cookie decorating (isaac lahey x f!reader) {ficmas 2023}

꒰ ࿁ ˙ ˖ ໑ happy day 12 of ficmas!

warnings: allusions to sex

a/n: its christmas eve! this one is short but i wanted to keep it sweet and to the point. thank you guys so much for joining me in this journey to write 12 fics in 24 days (honestly exhausting, but i'm happy I did it). reminder that my requests are open, and to join my taglist if you want to read more of my work in the future. i have a couple requested fics that i need to work on, but i'm hoping to start having a regular posting schedule for you guys in the new year. once again, ily and thank you guys for supporting me always <3

↳ masterlist ↳ ship exchange ↳ taglist ↳ ficmas 2023

Before your last school vice principal was killed by one of the many werewolf problems that arose in Beacon Hills, the high school didn’t have as many “school spirit” events. There were the typical ones, but truthfully, not a lot. But then, the high school needed a new vice principal, and suddenly, Beacon Hills High School was experiencing an influx of school-wide events. Some of them were incredibly stupid, annoying, and trivial, but occasionally there would be one that would excite all the students. This was one of those times.

“I am happy to announce that for the holiday season, we will be doing a series of competitions centered around winter,” Mr. Bean, the new vice principal, announced at a school assembly one morning. You almost skipped it but were caught by Coach Finstock in the hall before you could sneak out. Your boyfriend, Isaac, was asleep next to you. “They will be non-denominational, of course. But what is the prize, you ask? After careful consideration, it was decided that the team that gets the most wins out of the twelve contests will get automatic As for the winter break homework– that’s right, a free pass!”

That got the students awake, chatter filling the auditorium as students daydreamed about not having to do any work over the break. You also perked up. Even though you were a good student, you never got an actual vacation with how things went in your life, and your brain almost couldn’t process all the reading and napping you’d get done if you didn’t have any homework.

“Isaac,” you hissed, slapping your boyfriend in the arm. He groaned as you awoke him. “We are entering this.” He looked at you in confusion as you explained the competition to him. That seemed to wake him up.

“I’m not doing too hot in Chemistry right now, so that’d be great,” he mumbled, rubbing sleep out of his eyes.

“You told me you were okay!”

“I lied,” he shrugged, and you slapped him in the arm again.

“I offered to help you with your homework.”

“I wanted to make out with you instead.” That made you roll your eyes, but you didn’t get the chance to chastise your boyfriend as you finished listening to the rules of the competition.

The following days went by as pretty much every student in the school participated. Everyone got points for the challenges, and the team with the most points got automatic As. There would be two runner-ups who got Bs. You questioned whether any of this was legal, but your lust for winning overtook the rational part of you. Your competitive nature shined as you and Isaac quickly rose to the top of the leaderboards. Between your book smarts and Isaac’s athletic prowess, you took the contests by storm. There was trivia, a sledding race, a snowman competition, and a relay race. Ethan and Aiden were The only team close to beating you two, which just spurred on Isaac more. Even Scott and Stiles, who had fallen behind since they spent more time arguing like a married couple than cooperating, were rooting for you and Isaac just to see Ethan and Aiden go down.

The final contest wasn’t anything crazy but required precision and focus. Cookie Decorating. Of course.

You hunkered down at your house, baking cookies and looking at YouTube tutorials for the best way to decorate cookies. You had some cookies look like ornaments, others like reindeer, and a couple as snowflakes. Unfortunately, Isaac had grown distracted about half an hour into your baking adventure. Which meant he had turned to distracting you.

“Can we take a break?” he sighed, sitting at your counter as he watched you add frosting to piping bags.

“We need to turn these in by 4 pm today, so we need to hurry,” you responded, tying off the plastic piping at the top and looking at your sketched designs before adding anything to your cookies. Isaac slid off the stool, standing beside you as he watched you draw careful shapes. You weren’t paying attention to him, so you missed the devilish smirk on his face as an idea came to him. He pushed your hair to one side, standing behind you as he wrapped his arms around your middle. You hummed, still focused on decorating, when he pressed kisses along your neck and shoulder. You became hyperaware of his lips on your skin as he licked a line from your artery to your jaw, hot, open-mouthed kisses following soon after. You bit your lip to stop a gasp from leaving your mouth. “Isaac,” you hissed in warning when he bit down, coaxing a sigh from your lips.

“Y/N,” he hummed, his hands dipping under your shirt and running up and down your sides. His hands were cold and made you shiver wherever he touched you.

“You’re being a nuisance,” you whispered, hand shaking as you kept trying to decorate.

“Take a break,” he smiled against your skin, continuing his ministrations. You tried to calm yourself, but after making another mistake in decorating, you growled in frustration and turned around in his arms.

“You’re obnoxious,” you muttered, back pressed against the counter as Isaac had you cornered. He just smiled, leaning down to kiss you as he had you caged against the counter. You let him kiss you, hands running up his arms, tangling in his hair. You let him take you to your bedroom, make love to you, and effectively distract you. And when he was done being needy, you went back to finish decorating the cookies, wearing just his shirt and underwear, even letting him steal one when he thought you weren’t looking.

You ended up winning the competition, much to the chagrin of Ethan and Aiden, and you couldn’t find it in yourself to care as you spent winter break in peace with Isaac.

#isaac lahey #isaac lahey x reader #isaac lahey imagine #teen wolf #teen wolf x reader #teen wolf imagine #daniel sharman #ficmas 2023 #12 days of ficmas #my writing

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bibibbon · 3 months

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Quirks and MHA society

Throughout the manga there is this reoccurring theme of people not being able to use and control their quirks and the quirk system being broken but honestly this plot point never really goes anywhere in my opinion or if it is used it's not used properly and never reaches it's fullest potential.

Like we see people break the law a bunch of times by using their quirks illegally and we see people state that they cannot control their quirks but nothing is done about it. We never see people arrested for quirk use unless said quirk use harms people.

If it's illegal to use your quirk then how is it that you have middle schoolers freely using their quirks in school or how normal members of the public use their quirks? Also what does this mean for people born with a heteromorphic quirk? Is part of the reason they're discriminated because they can't turn if their quirks or is it because so heteromorphic quirks make the user look more alien and less human? The government in MHA doesn't seem to be very strict about quirk use laws but states that it is (hori failing in show don't tell again🤷‍♀️)

What about people whose quirks are dangerous if they don't release it? What do they do? Do they just have to suffer or does the MHA government have a facility where people can safely release their quirk? This doesn't seem likely considering that izuku, ochako, Katsuki and miriko ran into someone who they(miriko and bakugo)deemed a villain for not being able to control his quirk. This case is treated as a one off incident but it really isn't. If one person has a quirk like that then that means so many other civilians do and they could of been pushed into villainy due to it. Hori establishes that the MHA universe lacks establishments that help people discharge/release or deal with their quirk but he never outright does anything with this plot point (it's mainly used to justify characters actions or villainy)

Horikoshi also introduces the half baked idea that quirks can influence ones personality and desires. This idea is introduced mainly in the MVA arc to ig justify characters (like toga and tomuras) actions and behaviours. I think it could of been a good idea if characters end up acting similarly or develop similar traits that come from their quirk however as I mentioned before the idea is half baked. Toga having an interest/craving in blood because thats how her quirk works makes sense but it's not heavily established. When it comes to toga we get mentions of how broken the quirk counselling system is and how instead of helping her to deal with a quirk that makes her have such a strong fascination and affection to blood it only made her suppress the urges until she went off the rails into full insanity. When it comes to tomura this idea is only used as an excuse (almost) for his actions, his quirk is used to demonise him and make him more of this completely psycho villain who loves to destroy things because that's his nature?!? When it really isn't.

Quirk counselling is a plot point with so much wasted potential. Like how did quirk counselling work? Was it a legal requirement or was it recommended? Did it actually help some people by helping kids understand their quirks, help them with control, offer any support equipment if needed to deal with the quirk and teach children morals? It seems like people with ordinary common quirks benefit more from the system then people with unique quirks that have unique side effects. We are told that toga's quirk counselling was full of adults not understanding and telling her that she is a weird psycho who is obsessed with blood instead of actually helping her. We see curious herself admit that there are many problems with the quirk counselling system and how it only benefited people with certain types of quirks and how it was basically a place teaching and breeding children to learn "right" and "wrong".

We see the quirk counselling system fail but it's never addressed. MHA chapter 22 shows how people with powerful or uncontrollable quirks tend to be failed by the system just like how toga and tomuras were. Eri is a special case you can't even know if she is just being trained or if she attends general counselling because in all truth we aren't told. Eri also faces the same problem where she can't have too much build up for her quirk or it will hurt her so shouldn't MHA dive deeper into the idea of quirk counselling and people not being able to control their quirks. Heck you even have all might state that he has noticed a lot of people can't control their quirks which brings the question is quirk counselling only for young people in elementary school and not for older people because people like midoriya who had a quirk in his teenage years was never forced to do any quirk counselling by the government?!?!?!?

Overall, in my opinion quirks in MHA is a wasted potential of a plot point and topic. MHA fails to truly delve and dig deep into topics like how the government fails in providing help with quirk counselling or establishments that help people deal with their quirks, or how less people know how to control their quirks being a result for the quickly failing system or how badly the law is reinforced . These ideas intertwining with quirk inequality and how it affects peoples day to day life could of all been interesting points to explore.

#mha critical #bnha critical #hori is a bad writer #horikoshi critical #mha #bhna critical #wasted potential #bnha quirks

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ckret2 · 6 months

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@horridrabbitcreature said: Ok now tell us how they breed. For educational purposes

Honestly and sincerely, I do not know how Bill's species breeds lmao.

It's a problem of aesthetics, to me. A shape in the style of Bill Cipher has a simple, clean, minimalist perimeter, with perhaps only a couple of arms and legs and (in their home dimension) an eyeball on one corner.

If you headcanon they have the traditional hole or pole anatomy like humans do, it mars their nice, simple perimeter. If you come up with some complicated way to hide the equipment—something like a cloaca—that still will probably be seen on their edge, which I don't like, and anyway I personally feel like "yeah they've got equipment (it's just perfectly hidden most of the time)" is a little goofy and the coward's way out.

You could incorporate it into their existing anatomy—make up an alien way to stuff a reproductive system into their eyeballs, for instance—but I already do SO MUCH with their eye (it's for seeing AND it's their mouth hole AND they probably hear through there) that trying to find a way to shove in a reproductive system feels like too much, so I'm not doing that.* And they don't have much visible anatomical features OUTSIDE of eyes to work with.

(* "What do you mean you're not putting their genitalia in their eyes, you just wrote a whole chapter about Bill being into weird eye stuff?" The eye stuff is Bill's fetish, not a reflection of normal shapes' sexual behavior, and all Bill's shape buddies think he's a freak for it. Glad we clarified this.)

You could invent an entirely new alien reproductive method that gets around the issue, but unless how they reproduce becomes relevant to the fic I'm writing (doubtful), that's a HUGE superfluous avenue of worldbuilding that wouldn't contribute anything but pointless complicated info.

So I don't know how they breed because right now it just doesn't matter to the story I'm telling.

Here's what I do know about their reproduction:

It requires one line and one polygon (triangle, quadrangle, pentagon, etc). (This is not without purpose; I'm all for alien reproductive methods that don't involve pairing up, but in this case for "Bill keeps accidentally paralleling the human characters' experiences" reasons it was necessary to give him a crummy mom-and-dad like Pacifica, Gideon, and Stan+Ford.) Each kind of shape (lines included) is genetically a separate sex and socially considered a separate gender.

"each shape is a separate sex" actually only goes up so far. Shapes with a ridiculously high number of sides aren't naturally occurring and are the result of selectively breeding for extra sides, and often requires mutations or inbreeding. Creating a circle is like spending several centuries selectively breeding humans for polydactyly until you have a baby with thirty fingers. By Bill's time the practice of selectively breeding for sides was scientifically discredited and effectively dead.

Similarly, "each generation your angles/sides should increase" was proven to be rubbish. It's all sex chromosomes.

I've been toying with the idea of making lines a small proportion of the population rather than 50%, to reduce how much it feels like the species is a binary "50% female (lines) and 50% male of various flavors (polygons)"; but if there's so few lines then to maintain the population there might be some kind of "a line can have multiple spouses" rule; maybe a line can legally take one spouse of each shape but NOT, say, two triangles or something; but then that's verging on "to what end am I making this so complicated? What's the point? Does it have any impact on Bill's life?" so I might just chuck that idea. (A lot of my worldbuilding is driven by "Bill's species is extinct in the wild, so justify why exploring this matters?")

Similarly, I've considered maybe making the way the species experiences romantic feelings vary between sexes—like, maybe usually only lines fall in love for some reason, or maybe if there's a town that's 10% line 10% square 10% miscellaneous and 70% triangle then newborn triangles are naturally inclined toward being ace/aro to rebalance the population numbers. Sorta inspired by like how frogs spontaneously change sexes if the pond's population is too unbalanced. The reason I'm considering this is because having Bill experience romantic feelings & falling in love at the same rate as allo humans (like, what, every few years? Constantly maybe?) is just ridiculous for a character who's a trillion years old; but if I'm gonna say "oh he only falls in love once a million years or whatever" I want a good reason that isn't just he hasn't met someone ~special~ enough; and I DON'T want the reason to be "he's ace and/or aro and could reasonably identify that way" because having Bill frigging Cipher grapple with that queer experience just does NOT excite me. Basically—as an ace/aro myself, I don't want it to be possible for ace/aro-ness to be one of the reasons Bill feels fundamentally Weird. Turns me off. So I'm toying with, maybe I could build his species in such a way that, for him, being aro-ish or ace-ish would be seen as normative & expected, rather than queer; so I could still have him only wanna date once every million years WITHOUT feeling like that's a part of his identity he needed to explore at some point. But idk futzing around with how his species experiences romance might be unnecessarily complicated when I could just, like, not point out that only dating once every million years is unusual, and most readers would just roll with it without question.

So, these are the thoughts I've had about how reproduction works in Bill's species.

Still have no idea how they fuck.

#about my writing #bill goldilocks cipher #shape gender

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avatarmerida · 10 months

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So on twitter the other day, @rebeccaartsy mentioned she was thinking about how different things would be if Hunter was there from the beginning and it really got my mind moving.

So like my totally self indulgent headcanon or whatever,is that Hunter in season one is spending his time hunting wild witches and no one really takes him seriously so the whole time he’s trying to prove himself by trying to capture the most famous wild witch, Eda. But I like to think he doesn’t have a very strong artificial staff at this point and isn’t seen as much of a threat. He’s also either not the Golden Guard yet or just wears normal scout stuff to draw less attention. So he is always setting traps and stuff and Luz meets him and his vibe is like an annoying neighbor kid. He just gets roped into the occasional adventure because he’s there and just when he's starting to question life in the coven he gets promoted to coven head and he works even harder to be taken seriously.

Because I love how Hunter and Willow meet so much where they see the true version of each other right away in a way no one else has, I imagine their first meeting is still outside Luz and everything. Like, Hunter is messing with something plant related (maybe making a trap or liking for a rare plant to help Belos, idk) and gets tangled in some aggressive vines and Willow finds him and helps him. But the vines are from like a really complicated plant that requires extreme patience and talent and he’s like even Terra would have trouble with it and while his spitting facts Willow just untangles him effortlessly. She’s just like “boop! You’re good :)” and at first he’s worried she’s gonna tell someone or blackmail him but she’s just “no prob yo.” But she’s also very impressed that he found the plant that he did, cause they're super elusive and he’s like uhhh thanks.

So he offers to walk her to where she’s going and they start talking and he’s info dumping things on plant magic and they’re vibing and he realizes no one has ever let him talk so much before. And she likes talking to him. Then he realizes exactly where they are and before he can make an excuse to leave, Luz comes out to greet Willow and when she sees Hunter she groans. And they dive into their sibling banter slinging shots back and forth and Willow just stands there thinking like “huh, this is the guy who’s always annoying her? He’s not that bad.”

And so it’s just like a little bit where he’s always like “ugh you guys are the worst! But not you Willow, you’re great obvi.” Like he has no idea anyone would ever think she’s weak because he still met her in her element and she just thinks he’s a dork. But the crushing doesn't really start until Understanding Willow because I love that episode and I say so:

“Gus, listen,” said Hunter, as he walked through the open door of the Owl House. “Obviously, there is much I can’t divulge but upon consideration I am willing to grant you an interview for your class. The Emperor’s Coven values education, and so I could definitely offer you information on our selection process which I’m sure your teachers will find impressive and- why is Willow upside down?”

“Oh, Amity set Willow’s mind on fire and now she’s losing all her memories,” said Luz with a nervous chuckle. “But uh, what’s up with you?”

“What?” He said running over to her side and helping her sit correctly on the couch. “Is she okay?”

“Don’t worry blondie, we’re gonna get these knuckleheads in there to set things right,” said Eda. “Or at least less wrong.”

“You’re gonna entrust Willow’s mind in the hands of… them?” Said Hunter in disdain as he glared at Luz and Amity who honestly couldn’t argue with him. “They were the ones who put her in this situation in the first place! Not to mention, this location isn’t zoned for a spell of that caliber and as a member of the Emperor’s Coven I could-.”

“Listen, do you want it done soon or do you want it done legally?” Asked Eda. “Cause by the time we get the permits to do it your way Goldie, there won’t be any of Willow’s memories left to save.”

“Very well then,” said Hunter, pretending as though it was a hard decision. “I’ll allow it. Just… be careful with her.”

“Alright then,” said Eda. “Lemme whip up something to put her to sleep. She’s not gonna wanna be awake for this.”

“Oh look, the prince is here,” giggled Willow, leaning on Hunter’s shoulder for support as she noticed his presence for the first time. “Helloooo, your highness.”

“Uh, hi,” he said, not expecting her to be this close to him. “A-re you oka-.”

“Shhh,” she said, putting her finger to his lips, whispering as though it was the most serious thing on earth. “There’s something I need to tell you.”

“What?” he said despite his lips being smushed, hanging on to her words with concern.

She took a deep breath. “You have beautiful eyes.” She whispered with intensity.

His face turned bright crimson as he tried to laugh, assuming it must be a joke of some sort. But Willow’s voice didn’t carry the disdain most jokes at Hunter’s expense carried. She wasn’t in her right mind, but maybe that didn’t mean she wasn’t serious.

“Oh uh… thank you?” He said, clearing his throat. “So uh so do you?”

“Hmmm,” she giggled then hiccuped, squinting at him and then leaning in closer as though she couldn’t quite see something. “Do they make you wear that mask because you're so handsome all the time?”

“What?”

“Woo, you could cut something with that jaw ouch,” she said, her voice low and playful before erupting into another sea of giggles.

“I uh, I don’t think that’s-.”

“Nap time!” Said Eda, and Willow instantly fell asleep, leaning forward onto Hunter’s shoulder. He was unprepared to say the least, but tentatively put an arm around her to keep her steady, his eyes wide as his movements were careful.

“Alright coven boy, you keep Princess Planter comfy while I tell these two how to keep things from getting worse,” instructed Eda, pointing to Luz and Amity.

“Yeah sure okay,” replied Hunter, barely listening. Eda was telling Luz and Amity something but all Hunter could hear was the gentle sound of Willow snoring, her breathing slow and deep and peaceful. He has never been so close to her, he could see every delicate freckle that decorated her face. Her glasses were askew so he carefully removed them, because it just seemed like the thing to do. Her mind was on fire, the least he could do was make her more comfortable.

—

He watched as her eyes shifted behind her eyelids as she… dreamed? Would she think this was all a dream? She would mumble things occasionally, hopefully that meant something good? She just looked so-

“Hey Hunter, you want in on this?” Asked Gus.

“Huh?” He looked up quickly as though he was being accused of something. He hadn’t been listening. Hadn’t he been tasked with monitoring her? Is that what Eda said or had he just done it naturally? “Sorry, what?”

“King and Eda are competing to be the subject of my interview,” repeated Gus. “You want in?”

Hunter had forgotten all about being the subject of Gus’ report as he became engrossed in watching Willow sleep. Was that creepy? He didn’t mean it to be. He just felt… protective. He felt responsible. He could never fall asleep like this with anyone unless he trusted them completely. He had never fallen asleep around anyone. And he knew Willow did not have a choice in the matter but he wanted to be worthy of her trust anyway.

“Uh, no thanks maybe next time,” he said, uncharacteristically soft. “Someone should keep an eye on Willow.”

“Eh, she’s not going anywhere goldie,” said Eda as a twinkle entered her eye. “Buuuut when she does wake up, she’s probably gonna be hungry. Having the essence of your inner being threatened really takes alot out of you.”

“Oh yeah, sure,” said Hunter, looking at her in wonder. She seemed to be doing fine, but no doubt there would be brutal side effects. “Should I-.”

“Snacks! Snacks! Snacks!” chanted King.

“Oh yeah, uh I guess I could… do that,” he said softly. He wasn’t sure why he was being quiet, no one else was. But his usual tone didn’t seem fitting now. Normally, he would not take orders (or even suggestions) from civilians but if it was for Willow then it didn’t feel like succumbing to rank. It felt like helping. It felt purposeful. He carefully removed himself from Willow’s presence, mourning the loss of warmth for only a moment, and placed her comfortably on the couch. As he made his way to the kitchen, his eyes were glued to her until it was impossible to continue. Eda,King, and Gus were too occupied in their debate to notice.

---

Willow was going to be fine, she had to be. Everyone would be acting more worried if she wasn’t, right? She had always been strong and capable, he knew her mind couldn’t be much different. He turned his focus from concern into purpose. He wouldn’t admit it to the others, but he was thankful for the distraction. He felt foolish just sitting there not being able to do anything for her. He had never actually made something before, but how hard could it be? He had studied under the head of the Potions coven, how different was baking from that?

As he looked through Eda’s cupboards, Willow’s words echoed in his ears. Well, not all of them. There was one in particular, occupied by the way the ends of her mouth turned up as she said it that made his stomach flip.

Handsome.

No one had ever called him that before, not even ironically. Did she really think that? Why did he care so much if she did? Why, suddenly, did he want so much for her to?

Was it really suddenly though?

Ugh! Why hadn’t he said something cooler? He wasn’t sure she’d even remember saying it, but if she did he didn’t want his surprised reaction to prevent her from possibly repeating herself! He had never had issue thinking of clever retorts (though, to be fair he did do a fair deal of practicing in his bedroom mirror each night) and they often fell into a comfortable conversation. But sometimes she would say something a certain way or look at him too long and it would throw him off. Not in a bad way, no nothing at all like that, just… unexpected. She laughed at the jokes people would roll their eyes at or ask him to continue where normally he was cut off and all the little things just kept adding and piling up until Hunter didn’t know how he was supposed to carry them. She was so many little things, like the way she tilted her head when she asked him a silly question or how her glasses would slide off her edge of her knows when she got excited or the way she would stand close to him and sometimes their hands would brush like she didn’t care if they-

Focus! He thought, taking ingredients from the cabinets. There wasn’t much and what there was seemed to have no organizational system but he could resolve that after he figured out what to whip up. Something simple, something to show Willow he wanted to help. He didn’t know her well enough to enter her mind with Luz and Amity, but secretly he hoped he was getting there.

---

He managed to make something that resembled cookies, the smell filled the kitchen and it surprisingly wasn't an awful smell?. He remembered Willow mentioned once she was eager to get home as her father had made some and they were waiting for her. Truthfully, Hunter had never tasted a cookie but he had seen them when he walked by the bakery in town and knew the basics of their structure. Surely if he had taken a wrong turn the smell would reflect that, right? He imagined the look on Willow’s face when she saw his creation, and maybe even liked it. The flipped feeling returned to his stomach and spread through his whole chest like a wild fire when the potential look of delight on her face graced his mind.

In his efforts, he had made quite the mess. But he couldn’t help but feel pride as he quickly plated his creation, eager to return to Willow’s side. He didn’t think too much into this, he was always excited to see Willow. He tried not to think too much into that, chalking it up to the fact that she was interesting and a good listener and funny and smart and pretty and-

The point was she didn’t find him totally annoying, so why shouldn’t he enjoy her company?

And if she happened to think he was a little handsome then, well, that wasn’t the worst thing.

As he set the cookies to cool, he heard a sudden commotion from the next room. He quickly ran to see the cause, hoping it was a good sign. There was a bright flash and then he heard Luz and Amity. He stood back a moment, trying to deduce their tone before he heard Willow speak. Her voice was horse and soft, but he could tell she was back to normal. Good, he thought, feeling as though he could finally breathe again. She’s okay, she’s okay.

He went to greet her but before he could leave the kitchen, he was stopped by Luz. Before he could offer a snarky question as to what exactly she thought she was doing, she looked at him with wide, concerned eyes.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, furrowing his brow. He tried to looked past her to see what was going on. “Is she okay? Did something happen to-?”

“Willow’s fine.” she assured him, putting her arm up to stop him. “There was just some… complications.”

“What complications? Was she hurt? Does she need-?”

“No no, nothing like that but um there were some memories… we couldn’t save,” said Luz carefully.

“Like what? Did she forget something for a test she has? Because I can always-.”

“No, no uh there were more… recent memories,” Luz tried to figure out the nicest way to say this. ”Hunter, I’m sorry but we were still figuring out how things worked and it all happened so fast but… Willow doesn’t remember you.”

“What?” He felt something shatter.

“I’m so sorry, but hey, it’s an easy fix! Right? We can just introduce you now!”

“Yeah, uh I guess…” he said, looking at his current state. He had thrown on an old apron and was covered in flour, his hair a mess. This night was already so chaotic, it hardly seemed like a time Willow would want to meet someone new.

And then it dawned on Hunter: he had a second chance at a first impression.

Their first meeting had been… interesting. If you count hanging upside down by your ankle until a girl who took a wrong turn stumbles upon you helps untangle you interesting. Hunter did. But he had been so grumpy and flustered, and he wouldn’t have been had he only known who exactly had come to his rescue. She didn’t seem to care or be bothered by it, but he had come to value her opinion and he’d like to start again on the best foot possible. He had a chance for her to see him exactly as he wanted to be seen from the beginning and it felt like a chance he needed to seize.

His mind made up, he looked around for a way out before the human could return with Willow. Quickly, he climbed out the window and landed in a bush, He ducked beneath the window and pressed his back againythe wall as he heard Willow and Luz enter the kitchen,

“Huh, where did he go?” he heard Luz wonder.

“Who was this again?” Willow asked, her voice still raspy as though she was utterly exhausted.

“Uh, it’s kinda hard to explain,” Luz admitted. “But, he’ll be around again. I know he really wants to meet you!”

“Okay,” said Willow, uncertain. “If you say so.”

He couldn't help but think about the chill that went up his spine when she looked into his eyes. He didn’t understand exactly what it was but he knew it wasn’t nothing. He wanted Willow to know a better version of him. He cared what she thought. When she met him this time, he wanted it to be a meeting worth remembering.

—-

And so for the rest of the series up until ASIAS he’s trying to work up the nerve to meet Willow again as Hunter. Just when he’s ready, he gets promoted to coven bead and that’s when I’m also promoting him to Golden Guard or maybe like Golden Guard full time. So now he has more on his plate and he gets a more advanced staff and now he’s a real threat. But of course because he’s a loser and can’t stay away from her so they do interact when he’s the Golden Guard and he has that masked confidence. He’s still getting to know her so he’ll like run into her in the market or something and flirt but didn’t realize it’s flirting and he’s planning the perfect way to “re-meet.” The whole time Willow is like bugging because there’s something so familiar about him but she doesn’t know what and the others don’t tell her because they’re like still figuring out his deal. So when he does come to Hexside during ASIAS it’s much more thought through and intentional and feelings have already been caught.

Anyway sorry for a long pointless post but that’s just been on my mind k thanks bye.

#huntlow #winter toh #toh #the owl house #willow park #Hunter toh

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whereianonymouslypostfics · 11 months

Text

The Flip Side Part 1

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x reader

Word count: ~9.7k

Summary: Your motivation to continue working as a mobster in Chicago is dwindling after the birth of your daughter.

A/N: Here it is. The basically flipped script where Y/n is a mob boss and Wanda’s our adorable, lovable civilian. Overall this story has darker themes than the first one. There are a lot of references to alcoholism, violence, death, and past physical/emotional abuse. I’ll put warnings for each part, but if any of this makes you uncomfortable, please don’t read!

Warnings: angst, references to alcoholism, suggestive content, domestic fluff (assume the first two will always be present unless stated otherwise)

The sound of Wanda’s screams reverberating off of the walls made you feel like you were crawling out of your skin. You hated to hear her sound so in pain, and knowing that she truly was made it even worse. You’d spent months, maybe longer trying to mentally prepare yourself for this day, and you truly never got to the point where you felt like you were ready. It was near agony having to just sit and watch and wait as Wanda did all of the work to bring your daughter into the world.

You and Wanda had wanted to have a baby since the day you got married. Honestly Wanda had wanted one earlier than that. She had always wanted to be a mom, and even though the foster dogs that ran around the penthouse counted as children, she wanted a baby. You’d been on board with the idea, but of course you couldn’t commit to it right then and there. A lot of preparation was required before you could feel ready to have a child. You needed to be at least a little more stable at work, and this was honestly the most time-consuming part of it all. Wanda had understood and you’d slowly done what was necessary to make sure you weren’t so front and center. You’d delegated until you felt like everything was out of your hands and you had very little control over it, but nearly three years later the day had arrived.

The equally important part of preparing for a baby that you conveniently had forgotten was arguably the most important. As you held your wife’s hand and tried to soothe her through labor, you realized that you hadn’t given being a parent more than the occasional thought. You knew that Wanda was over the moon and she was dying to meet your baby, but you were still a little nervous. You wanted this too, you hadn’t just agreed to make Wanda happy, but you’d forgotten how much pressure you would be putting on yourself by having a child with Wanda.

You feared every day that something would happen to her because of what you did, and you did everything you could to make sure she was safe. You had her tailed wherever she went, and you had gotten her to agree to being tracked in the least invasive way possible. You knew that Wanda tolerated it because she loved you, but you couldn’t help but want to put her and this baby on lockdown until the unforeseeable future. The idea of bringing your daughter into a world where she’s already at risk because of your less than legal occupation was terrifying. However, you’d agreed to this and now it was up to you to do your part and make things as safe as possible for your family.

“Y/n!”

You jerk away from whoever rudely shoved you awake, and you’re quickly reaching for your gun before you can stop yourself. You see Bucky out of the corner of your eye holding up his hands in surrender as he shoots you a look.

“Woah, it’s just me! Don’t shoot unless you want to drive yourself home.”

You frown as his words register and your hand drops from your hip as you sigh in exhaustion. You hadn’t meant to fall asleep here. You were supposed to be finishing up work before leaving on time to make it to dinner with your wife and child. It was mostly with your wife, but your now-6-month-old would be there, and you’re sure that Pietro would be as well.

You only take a second to wonder why you’d dream about Natalya’s birth of all things before you climb to your feet. You look around lazily for your phone and keys, and you curse when you see the missed calls from Wanda.

“She asked me to check up on you. You told her you’d be home earlier.”

You can’t help but groan in annoyance at yourself as you nod and follow Bucky out of the room. You had been swamped at work as usual, and as soon as you’d come back from an exhausting meeting this afternoon, you’d fallen asleep at your desk. You only cast a cursory glance at the mess you’re leaving before patting your friend on the back with a smile.

“Wanda’s cooking my favorite tonight. Do you want to join us?”

You have a feeling you know what his answer will be, but you wait until he tells you for certain that he’ll be busy tonight. You nod in understanding before following the brunette to your car. You sigh heavily as you get into the passenger seat and you close your eyes as you wait for Bucky to join you. He does quickly but he doesn’t start the car immediately as he turns to you with a frown.

You’d been really tired recently, and more so than when Natalya was born. Those first few months had been tough. You’d been sleep-deprived and as a result moodier than usual which wasn’t good for anyone. You’d wanted to drink more during this time than you had in the past 5 years, but you held off and tried to just find as much joy in having a young child at home as possible. Wanda had managed it a little better because she was able to take off work completely since she owned her restaurant, and she dedicated herself to her baby 24/7 for nearly 5 months. It wasn’t until recently that she started to talk about returning to work even if just part-time as Natalya got older.

Since your daughter had started sleeping a little longer at night, you’d recently had the luxury of sleeping through most nights. Despite having the nursery right down the hall, and enough baby monitors to start a store of your own, you’d been able to get more sleep recently now that Natalya’s gotten older.

So Bucky wasn’t sure what was going on with you. He hoped that you were just adjusting to everything still, or trying to figure out how to deal with the latest fire at work.

For the past 10 years, you’d been the head of one of Chicago’s oldest mobs. Your rise to power had been a treacherous one that included 2 assassination attempts, and multiple trips to the hospital as you tried to establish a name for yourself among a sea of misogynistic criminals. After being thrown to the wolves and proving your worth, you’d continued to build your wealth and reputation as you expanded your reach throughout the city. It had been the most difficult thing you’d ever done, and the stress alone had surely taken years off your life.

However, when you started drinking barely a few months into your reign, things became ugly quickly. You’d already learned to overcompensate for the fact that you were a woman by being more ruthless than your male counterparts. You’d killed too many people to count by the time you turned 23, and you’d turned to drinking and briefly drugs to deal with the stress and guilt that you brought upon yourself by staying with the mob.

You’d somehow made friends still, and they became loyal and eventually cared about you enough to try and help you beyond their loosely defined job requirements. You’d refused rehab and tried to handle things yourself, and that went about as poorly as it could have. You ended up in the hospital sick, and you’d eventually given up and started drinking again.

A few months later Pietro came to you asking for a job, and since you had a need for more employees and he looked strong enough you’d given him one. It wasn’t until you met his sister months later that you regretted this.

“Are you alright?”

You turn to Bucky in surprise, not realizing that you haven’t left yet as you drifted off. You shake your head before realizing what his question was, and quickly nodding instead.

“Yeah, I’m good. I’m just tired…and hungry.”

Bucky smiles and accepts this answer for now as he starts the car up to get you home. You own a number of properties around the city that you’ve either been gifted or overtaken by force that you utilized on a daily basis. One of these included a modern high rise apartment building that you lived in with Wanda and your daughter. There were an obscene number of floors, 42 you think, and the very top is where your penthouse sits. You and Wanda moved there shortly after getting married, and it’s since been renovated and re-renovated before its final modification right before your baby arrived.

You had way too many rooms for any three people to use, and honestly a good number of them were for your dogs.

When you first met Wanda, you had two German Shepherds that had been given to you by a business partner. It was the first time someone had given you a living thing, well at least that you accepted, and you couldn’t help but be wary. They’d been puppies at the time and they were now both close to 10 and they spent most of their days lounging around the penthouse or very occasionally going to the exercise room you had built for them. Given the fact that you were so high up and dreaded the idea of taking your dogs out multiple times a day, you’d had the rooftop outfitted with an area where the dogs could do their business and have it cleaned regularly by someone else.

Most of the rooftop you’d kept for yourself and Wanda to enjoy whenever the urge struck. However, given how busy you were and the fact that Wanda spent every waking minute with your daughter, trips to the roof were going to be far and in-between for a while.

When Bucky leaves you to probably continue working for a bit, you step into the private elevator that will take you up to your home. You slouch against the wall as you watch yourself go up and up through the large window across from you. You’d flirted with the idea of making it completely glass, but you honestly weren’t a fan of heights. Usually you had someone to talk to and distract you from slight nausea or at least a phone in your hand so you could studiously ignore it. Today, you had neither because you couldn’t muster the energy to take out your phone, so you just stared blankly at the brief view of city lights and the darkening sky.

When the elevator dings signaling that you’ve finished your journey, you stand up straight and put on a smile for your wife who hopefully won’t be too upset with you.

“You’re late.”

You walk into your 6-bedroom 9-bath penthouse and immediately sigh in relief. You’re such an introvert that the mere act of walking into your house recharges your social battery, at least a little bit. You walk down the short hallway that leads to the kitchen and living room, and you’re not surprised to see your wife cooking in the kitchen while your brother-in-law’s in the living room with your daughter. You smile at the sight of them before you go to greet your wife first.

“I know, I’m sorry. I fell asleep.”

You don’t give Wanda much time to respond before you pull her in for a hug as you kiss her. You hear and ignore Pietro’s disgusted noise as you take a moment to look at your wife closely. She’s wearing comfortable clothing and her hair is thrown up into a ponytail as she cooks. Her face is bare of makeup, but she’s still the most beautiful woman you’ve ever seen. You kiss her cheek again before giving her one last squeeze as you look to the dinner she’s made.

“Thank you for making my favorite.”

Wanda’s gaze darts to where her brother’s holding her daughter up in the air while making strange noises before she looks to you with a small smile.

Wanda offers a slightly pained smile as you squeeze her tightly, but you’re quick to notice and can’t help but frown. You loosen your hold on her before looking for any obvious injury that you might have missed.

“What is it? What’s wrong?”

“It’s fine. I’m just a little sore.”

You frown before humming in understanding. Wanda had just stopped breastfeeding a little while ago, and despite starting Natalya on formula and somewhat solid food at this point, she still hadn’t dried up. You’ve read a lot about it and Wanda’s spoken with her doctor, but it sounds like it could be a while before she stops producing and therefore stops being so sore. They were told that if it’s longer than a week, she could be started on some medication to stop it.

“I’m sorry, love. Is there anything I can do?”

Wanda smiles at you but mutters a ‘later’ under her breath as she looks back to her brother. You nod with a smirk before you kiss her cheek once more as you head to the living room to greet the rest of your family.

“Hi there, Little Nat. How was your day?”

Despite not spewing more than a few short sounds that vaguely resemble words, you still talk to your daughter as if she understands you. It’s hard not to when you talk to your dogs the same way, but apparently it was encouraged. Pietro lowers your baby so you can take her into your arms and kiss her forehead. You smile wider when she laughs happily as you squish her belly and start to tickle her. You bounce her on your lap, content to just hold her as you turn to your brother-in-law.

“Pietro. I hope she was good for you today.”

Pietro Maximoff, your wife’s twin, was the one you’d met first all those years ago. He’d been desperate for money, and a little reckless but you’d seen potential in him. You’d had him assigned as your security detail to see what he was capable of, but he never got beyond that. Despite liking him well enough and trusting him to be loyal, you’d quickly decided that he wasn’t going to be working for you once you met his sister.

You remember that night like it had happened just the other day. You’d been ridiculously stressed about a deal that was falling through, and you’d had plans to blow off some steam. You’d called on Pietro because he was going to escort you to the party, but once you realized that he’d been followed you had a change of heart.

You still occasionally apologized to Wanda for trying to shoot her at your first meeting, but you both know that this night changed your lives for the better. You’d immediately been drawn to her and in a few short weeks you were dating, and Pietro was fired.

He held it against you for a while, but at this point you were pretty sure he was glad to be out of the mob. He certainly saw the hours you worked and how it drained the life from you, but he was your brother-in-law, and he made it his job to give you a hard time every now and then.

“She was an angel. Even as she threw her grapes around.”

You sigh at the thought of this and how Nat’s not been doing a great job during her transition to solid food. Well, she was doing fine you supposed since she was eating more than she was throwing, but it was more of a game right now to her and she mostly drank her formula and picked at the fruits and vegetables she liked. Apparently, grapes were not on that list. You nod before asking the follow up question that you are reminded of as you hear the sounds of dog collars clinking down the hall.

“Did any of the fur creatures clean up after her?”

Pietro just laughs before he shakes his head and looks to the new arrivals that finally realized you were home. You smile at the two in front, your jack Russell mixes who hurry over to you with little yips. You reach out to pet their scruffy coats before kissing their heads as they jump up on you.

“Hello Rudy. Milo. How are you?”

The duo just pants happily before sniffing Nat and walking away. They aren’t super interested in her which is good and bad, but you’ll just have to keep a close eye on them like the vet and pediatrician said. The next dogs that come up are your two old shepherds that you swear are walking slower every day. You smile lovingly at them before you silently ask Pietro to take your daughter so you can greet the larger dogs.

Boone and Rogue were your 10-year-olds who you’d had since they were barely a pound. You loved them dearly and watching them grow older broke your heart. You remember the days where they’d follow you around as you worked, intimidating people and keeping you company. They’d saved your ass a few times when you were outnumbered and having to retire them a couple of years ago felt like the end of an era. You didn’t replace them because you didn’t need to at this point, but you made sure that they would be comfortable and happy staying in the penthouse for the rest of their days.

They had access to almost all of the rooms and they could go out on the roof whenever they wanted to sun, but most of the time they just slept. You scratch the pair and kiss both of their heads with a sigh. You let them greet their human sibling with a sniff or two before you get to your feet with a groan.

“Dinner time?”

You meant for you, but you felt bad when the dogs perked up excitedly at the prospect of food. After confirming that Wanda had taken care of feeding them, you only give them a little extra before setting the table and helping Wanda finish up in the kitchen. You can tell that she’s tired which isn’t new, but she’s also being quieter than you’re used to. You worry that something’s on her mind, and she just doesn’t want to talk about it with her brother here.

You of course insist he stays for dinner because he’s already here and he does so much for the two of you. Since Nat was born, he’d stopped working and was around for whatever was needed. He helped his sister take care of Little Nat while you were at work, and when your wife had run by the restaurant to check in, he’d stay to supervise. You wondered if he’d stay here full-time once Wanda went back to work, but that was something you could figure out later.

“I went by the restaurant today.”

You look up from your plate as Wanda says this and you smile when you see how happy she looks. She loved that place and you swore that as soon as she was old enough, Natalya was going to learn to cook there. It would become her new home away from home if Wanda had anything to say about it. As exciting as this sounds, for now, you focus on the present as Wanda tells you about how everyone is doing in her absence.

“Stella says that the new kids are doing well, and there haven’t been any fires since that first time.”

You smile at this for two reasons. One because when Wanda says ‘kids’, she really means anyone younger than her. The brunette isn’t anywhere close to old, but you swear that once she passed 30, she just started calling anyone younger than her ‘kids’. The two 21- and 24-year-olds that she’s talking about were hired just before she went on maternity leave. They were going to help in the kitchen and Wanda had taken a week to run them through all of the items on the menu until they knew how to make each one. They’d done a fantastic job and Wanda was going to keep them on even as she slowly started working again.

You’re glad to hear that she’s happy with how things are going at the restaurant and you’re about to say this when Pietro speaks up. You look to where he’s trying to feed Nat with a spoon, but she’s more interested in looking at what’s on the floor around her high chair.

“And how’s Bridget doing?”

Both you and your wife roll your eyes in unison at the predictable question. Pietro, despite being freer than either of them, hasn’t made an appearance at the restaurant for a while. He’d had a slightly awkward breakup with one of the hostesses that worked there and he’d been avoiding it like the plague. Wanda was annoyed because she’d warned him not to get involved with someone she worked with, but he hadn’t listened. He’d found it difficult to say no to this redhead’s…charms.

“I was very nice to her sestra. Just ask.”

“She wasn’t there today, and even if she was, I wouldn’t tell you. You weren’t very nice to her.”

You just watch in amusement as you wife chastises her brother about his failed relationship. It had honestly ended amicably, but it hadn’t lasted long because Pietro hadn’t been looking for something serious, and Bridget had wanted to settle down. Luckily, work wasn’t awkward for anyone and it only got a little dicey if Pietro showed up and tried to show off in one way or another.

The two start to argue in their native language and you just smiled as you picked up bits and pieces of it. Wanda wasn’t being very complimentary of her brother, and if you weren’t mistaken Pietro was being lewd. As usual. You sigh as you abandon your mostly finished dinner and get up so you can try and feed your daughter. Pietro’s mostly given up at this point, but you sit down beside her with a smile before picking up a clean spoon.

“Hi little one. This food tastes better than what’s on the ground. I promise.”

You scoop a little spoonful of it out of the bowl and hold it up to Natalya. She looks at you with a smile, but makes no move to try to eat, so you move to another tactic. You start to move the spoon around in an aimless pattern, pretending like you’re flying a plane and although it gets your daughter’s attention she’s still not interested in eating. You eventually give up and boop her on the nose before reaching out to try and clean her shirt. You’ll never admit this out loud, but she reminds you of yourself when she eats. She’s so enthusiastic that she sometimes gets more of it on her than in her mouth. At least she has the excuse of being a baby. You’re just guilty of being overzealous.

You don’t realize that the twins are done arguing and have switched to watching you try to tempt Nat into eating. After cleaning up the mess Nat made, you move her food aside before handing her one of her toys that was out of reach. You let her chew on it because it was sanitized right before dinner and you smile as she laughs happily between gumming the rubber ring.

“You’re such a cutie.”

You’re back in your seat and intent on finishing dinner when you realize that Wanda and Pietro are just watching you. You shoot them curious looks but Wanda just smiles before she takes a sip of her water with a shake of her head.

“Nothing, detka. You two are just cute.”

You sigh inaudibly at this but don’t argue even when Pietro looks at you with a smug smile. You focus on finishing your dinner as conversation about the restaurant continues. Pietro is the one who asks if Wanda will be returning soon, and she says that over the next two weeks she plans to go in a couple more times. You two had briefly talked about this but you hadn’t realized she’d made a decision until now. You’re glad that she’s not trying to rush things because although you know that she loves her work, you selfishly want her hidden away in the safety of your home.

While Wanda’s been with you, both before and after getting married, there are only been a few instances when someone has tried to come after her. It was on days where you were out late working, or you had a sudden change of plans. They hadn’t gotten too close either time, but even someone stalking Wanda was too close for you. These incidents are partially why you’d moved here and tried to make it as secure as possible. You knew short of building yourself and fortress that you demanded she stay in 24/7, there was no way to guarantee her safety. You just did your best by putting your best people by her side and making sure that you had multiple ways of tracking and communicating with her if necessary.

Your wife was very tolerant of all of this because she’d seen first-hand what happens to people who try to hurt someone you love. Although she knows it’s necessary to keep her safe, she wants to do everything she can to spare you from having to kill someone. It’s one of the many downsides of your job, and probably her least favorite, but asserting your authority by eliminating threats is something that you have to do often. She never wants to know how much time you spend a day torturing or killing people, but she can always tell when you come home at night how difficult your day was.

Whether you don’t bother to take off your jacket and shoes, or you look like you’d seen a ghost, she can tell that your work had been particularly rough on you.

She wonders how long you’ll want to do this, and if you have a backup plan for your next chapter. She knows that 10 years is a long time to be in something, and you can’t just leave it. Even if it was something else, like a desk job, she’s sure you’d have to plan your next step and take some time before making any changes. She’s not naïve enough to think that even if you wanted to leave, if you decided to, it would be easy. She’d seen you as you tried to take a step back from it all while she was trying to get pregnant. It had taken a toll on you and she still sometimes sees that you’re facing the backlash of your difficult decisions.

As much as she wanted to have this baby with you, she didn’t want the decision to make things more difficult for you.

Her desire to make your life as easy as possible is why she’s only going to go to the restaurant occasionally for the next month before steadily increasing her shifts until she’s working full time again. She knows that Pietro would be willing to watch Natalya until she was old enough for school, but she wanted him to go back to work too if he wanted it.

He’d started working with your friend Tony a few years ago, and despite not understanding the ins and outs of the technology he worked with, he enjoyed learning and getting to spend time with someone who was more similar to him than a 6-month-old was. This was a conversation for later though because as dinner finished up, Wanda realizes that you’re fading fast. You’d had a long day and you could probably sleep right now, despite your nap earlier. After exchanging a look with her brother, Wanda gets up and starts to clear the table.

“Oh no, wait. I’ll do it.”

The rule is that whoever cooks doesn’t clean, and this is something that you’ve stuck to even on your worst days. You actually didn’t mind cleaning because it was a very mindless, almost cathartic activity. Wanda smiles at you before she takes the stack of plates she has toward the kitchen.

“I know, I’m just bringing them to the kitchen for you while you get Natalya’s dishes.”

You obediently stand up and stack the tiny bowls and spoons before grabbing your daughter with your free hand. You hold her on your hip as you lead her to the kitchen to see the mess that you get to clean.

“Look Nat! Look at all the food, Mommy made. She’s going to teach you how to cook this as soon as you can hold your own spoon.”

Wanda rolls her eyes as she sets the dishes down by the sink, but she doesn’t deny it as she swoops in and steals her daughter. You smile and watch as she takes the baby into the living room. She leaves you to your dishes and Pietro returns from letting the dogs back in now that dinner’s over before settling on the couch.

“Come here, milaya. Let’s go play.”

You’re putting the last few dishes in the dishwasher when your phone rings from where you left it on the counter. You jump slightly at the jarring sound and you sigh as you dry your hands off before reaching for it. You don’t notice Wanda’s frown or Pietro’s look as you answer Bucky’s call with a sigh.

“Hey, Bucky. What’s up?”

You close the dishwasher and set the two pots that Wanda used aside to dry as you hold your phone to your ear. You listen to your friend tell you about what you’re hoping doesn’t ruin the rest of your night. Right before leaving ‘the office’ you’d made sure that everything was set for the hit that you had planned tonight against yet another politician that was trying to interfere with your business. He was trying to get legislation passed that would crack down on drugs in the city, and not only could that potentially ruin you but it would drive the prices of everything through the roof. You didn’t want to deal with that and you honestly didn’t mind taking this route to get ahead of the problem. When reading about the target you’d found that he wasn’t the most upstanding guy, and very few people except maybe his mistress and their kid would miss him.

“What do you mean he can’t make it? Did he double book himself?”

You try to keep your voice down and your anger under wraps as Bucky tells you about the flaky hitman you’d talked to about an hour ago. Apparently, he wasn’t available anymore and not only did that make him the newest addition to your list, but it left you in an awkward position. You weren’t sure who you could find to take his place so last minute. Glancing at the clock on the oven you realize that it was less than an hour before the hit was supposed to take place. You groan under your breath as you consider your options before you ask Bucky what he’d do.

Bucky has been your friend for a long time and you’d worked together for almost the entire time. You know that he always has a plan D while you occasionally get stuck on plan C. In this case, you want to hear what he thinks the best course of action is for this. You’d already had everything in place. His $300k, his spot on the guest list, and a getaway car were all waiting for him. Now, he’d be lucky if he sees tomorrow.

“What do you think, Bucky?”

You wait as your friend tells you exactly what you’d been thinking, but been reluctant to agree to. Not only was it risky, but it was going to cost you a lot more money that you didn’t currently have to throw around. You’d have to talk to Yelena to see if she could move her collection day up to tomorrow instead of later this week. That said, you didn’t expect to be able to cover this bill with that alone. You resist the urge to knock something off the counter top as Bucky gives you the bad news.

“Nat could do it, but you know her fee and I think she’s busy with a deal of her own at the moment.”

You head over to the fridge to look for something you know you won’t find before you take a deep breath. You know Nat is busy, she’s working on getting you drugs that you’d been promised last week. You couldn’t take her from that right now, not if you wanted to pay your employees on time. You reach for the leftover cake from Natalya’s half-year birthday and set it on the counter. You make the mistake of glancing up to see if your wife and Pietro were paying attention to you.

They’re watching you with very different expressions that make you feel equally ashamed and frustrated. Pietro’s eyeing you suspiciously because even after everything you’d done to get better, to prove to him and yourself that you’re doing better, he can’t completely trust you. You suppose you can’t blame him. You want to credit his reluctance to his brotherly duty to keep Wanda’s best interests in mind. He doesn’t want her hurt again, especially now that you have Natalya to take care of, and you don’t think he’ll ever forget how much you hurt her.

Whether intentional or not, a lot of the first year of your relationship had been hell for Wanda. You’d still been drinking and you had no control over your temper. You’d been acting so impulsively and recklessly for years that it had been difficult to just shut it off because of Wanda’s presence in your life. She’d suffered the consequences of your late nights, your random disappearances and your benders, but she’d still stayed. A lot had to happen for her to stick with you, but she did it and the idea of putting her through anything like that again wasn’t acceptable to Pietro in the least.

Wanda watches you with a worried frown as she tries to keep her baby from squirming in her arms. She knows it’s a work call because no one else would reach out at this time, and seeing how you tense and sound angry almost immediately, she realizes this isn’t good news. She waits to see what you decide and she would be lying if she said she’s not saying a little prayer that you don’t leave her tonight to do who knows what.

“She can’t miss that; we need the money.”

You bite your lip as you consider plan C. It’s not great, and you hate that you’re even considering it, but you’re running low on time. You grab a fork and start to eat the cake in front of you mindlessly. You’re not even hungry, but you need to do something with your hands that isn’t punching a hole in the wall.

“What about Steve?”

Steve had been part of your security detail early on because of a few reasons. The first was his experience. He’d been in the military before coming to Chicago, and he was a real asset that you’d been grateful to have. You’d met him and Bucky at the same time, and despite his intimidating stature, he was a kind and dependable friend that you trusted with your life. The other reason he was with you was because he was a crack shot. On the rare occasion that he wasn’t busy or watching over your wife which was the primary task you’d given him, he would help you with loose ends. If the situation called for it, much like tonight’s did, he’d off someone for you. He did it for free even if you ended up paying him anyway for his trouble, but he was one of the most efficient people in your employ.

The only issue with having him do something like this for you was that he was easily recognized at this point. Despite his best efforts and yours to keep him incognito, it was impossible for him to go completely undetected, and people knew what he looked like now. He was recognized by many, and only kept out of jail because of a deal you had with a corrupt judge. You’d negotiated his freedom upon certain terms, and these included not letting him commit crimes, especially murder.

You don’t know what to do. Short of going after Jacobs yourself, you aren’t sure who you can ask to infiltrate the party that starts in 20 minutes and get in and out without being caught.

Bucky is on the same page as you and he sighs deeply as he decides on what to do. He had a couple of things he needed to finish up tonight, but those could wait for a bit. He was privy to the original plan and he was less recognizable than Steve, so he could give it a shot.

“I’ll do it.”

You’re shaking your head as you drop your fork and give up trying to distract yourself. You walk out of the kitchen without a word and step into the closest room with a door. You take a deep breath as you look into the mirror in front of you and cringe at your appearance. You look like shit which is honestly not a surprise considering how shitty you feel. You’re tired, anxious, and now sick to your stomach as you realize what you have to do. You’re not going to let Bucky off the hook completely, but you don’t want him going after Jacobs tonight. It’s not worth the risk, and you’d like to know more about why this happened in the first place. It couldn’t be because someone was so bold that they thought they could change their minds and refuse you. The mere thought makes you want to scream, but you just take another deep breath before finally responding.

“No, Buck. We’ll just wait on it. For now, I’d like you to find Logan for me and keep him somewhere safe until I can see him. I have a few questions.”

Bucky agrees to have this done by morning and you hang up with a disappointed sigh. This is just not your day.

“Y/n, are you okay in there?”

You turn at the sound of your wife’s voice and you nearly curse yourself again for being so broody. You are certain she’s a little on edge because she always is when it comes to your business. She hated when you brought work home, honestly you both did, but sometimes you couldn’t help it. The last time it happened you’d had to leave in the wee hours and not only did Wanda hate having you leave her, but she knew that whatever got you out of bed at this time wasn’t anything good. She’d learned during your time together that delegation was a double-edged sword. It freed you up to do other more important things, like be home with her while staying out of danger, but it also made your anxiety near unbearable depending on what the problem was.

Wanda had learned how to help you manage this through the years of therapy you’d had. She’d helped you avoid replacing one bad habit with another, and encouraging you to focus on something positive is what she was attempting to do now.

You open the door to the bathroom to see Wanda standing there with Nat in her arms. Your daughter was smiling widely as she swatted Wanda’s hair with her grabby hands. You couldn’t help but smile and you reached out for her with a sigh. You kissed her face a few times until she giggled before turning your attention to your wife with a shake of your head.

“No everything’s going to hell, but it will work itself out.”

Wanda is surprised by how relaxed you sound, or rather resigned. She would have thought you’d start cursing and threaten to murder someone, but instead the majority of your focus is on your daughter who despite enjoying herself is starting to get sleepy. You kiss her forehead one more time before you start heading for her bedroom.

“Is it bedtime little one?”

Wanda follows behind you as you head back through the living room to get to Natalya’s nursery. Pietro’s still sitting in the living room but when he sees you, he stands up before looking to his sister. You don’t bother worrying about what they’re deciding as you stop just long enough to see what your brother-in-law’s plans are.

“Thank you again for today. I’m going to put this one to bed.”

Pietro only hesitates for a second before Wanda nods and he decides that he can leave. He, just like Bucky and Steve, lives on the floor just beneath them so they’re nearby if needed. Not to mention they live rent free. Pietro hugs his sister before telling her to call her if she needs anything before he leaves for his own apartment. He’ll be back tomorrow depending on if his sister goes to work, but for now he can tell she’s only worried about her wife.

“What story do you want to read tonight, Little Nat?”

Although she’s too young to understand what you’ll read, just the act of talking to her is good practice for her later months. You also like to tell yourself that hearing your voice will help her recognize you even if you’re gone often. You feel bad that you’re not very present, but you’re trying to do better, and you’ll be damned if you’re here for a bedtime and you don’t tell Nat a story.

You set her down and give her a moment to settle in her crib before you start to look through her books. They’re mostly picked out for when she’s older, closer to 1.5 or 2 years old, but you love these stories and want your daughter to know them. You start to grab the Yertle the Turtle book when Wanda steps in and sits beside you with a smile.

“You read that one two nights ago, detka. I think she’ll have it memorized soon.”

You smile widely at the thought and you go to open the book anyway before you look to your wife with a thoughtful hum.

“What would you have me read instead, Wands? Maybe the scary wolf book, or the sad fish who lost his scales?”

Wanda knows you like those books, but she forgoes the ‘traumatic’ books for one that might be your all-time favorite. She skims the bookshelf before finding it in the exact same place as last time. She pulls it out and hands it to you with a shrug.

“What about the one with all of the colorful animals.”

You can’t help but look interested in this one and you only hesitate for a second before exchanging your book for Wanda’s. You kiss her briefly in thanks before clearing your throat and opening the book. It isn’t until you check to see if your daughter is paying attention, that you realize that she’s already asleep. You chuckle under your breath before you close the book and set it aside with a sigh.

“Maybe tomorrow then.”

Wanda follows you to your bedroom once you make sure that Nat is truly asleep and good for you to leave alone. You make sure that your dogs are in their section of the penthouse before leading your tired wife to the bedroom. You know you’re going to have to talk about Bucky’s phone call, but for now you’d like to jump in the shower and rid yourself of today. When Wanda realizes what your intentions are she takes the baby monitor on the bedside table and holds it as you get changed.

“Would you like some company?”

Wanda rarely needs to ask, but you nod regardless as you shed your clothes and head into the bathroom with your wife on your heels. You let her get the monitor situated while you start the shower and get the hot water running. You sigh before you make sure that your wife is all set before reaching out for her. She shoots you a confused look, but you just bend slightly at the waist before asking dramatically.

“All ready, milady?”

Wanda rolls her eyes, but she takes your offered hand and lets you lead her into the shower. You adjust the water when you realize it’s too hot before letting Wanda lead the way and shutting the door behind her. You sigh in relief as the hot water sprays your sore muscles, and you shift slightly so you’re completely under the shower head. You open your eyes to see Wanda’s watching you as she reaches for the body wash, and you smile in anticipation as you hold out your hands.

“How are you feeling, my love?”

The brunette smiles as you start to lather her arms before carefully moving to her sore breasts. She groans before nodding slightly as she runs a hand through her wet hair with a smile. She hinted earlier that a massage might help, but she’d actually started earlier when you were on the phone and you can’t help but laugh at the image.

“I’m sure Pietro loved that.”

She slaps you playfully before emptying more of the sweet-smelling wash into her own hands so she can start to clean you up. She can tell you’re incredibly tense, and she wants to try and remedy this now if you’ll let her.

“He studiously ignored me and focused on Natalya.”

You smile widely at the thought of Pietro being such a good brother. You sigh once again as Wanda starts to squeeze your biceps as she runs her hands down your arms. You let your eyes fall closed as you let Wanda work her magic. You relax quickly and you have to remember to keep yourself standing upright as you feel the urge to lie down overtake you. Wanda has given you dozens of massages over the years, and it really was the only thing that could calm you down when you were stressed. Well, the only thing you were allowed to have. However, you realize that unfortunately as you get clean and calmer by the minute, this leaves you unprepared for what your wife asks you next.

“What did Bucky tell you earlier?”

You hesitate to answer and you contemplate pretending like you didn’t hear her, but the gentle squeeze she gives your side when a few seconds have passed in silence make this option less appealing. You sigh heavily as you think about your call with Bucky and how this was going to be a pain in the ass to replan. You don’t want to worry about this now. You just want to enjoy your time with your wife, but Wanda is asking you for something. You open your eyes and look down slightly at your wife who’s shooting you a curious look. You can tell that she’s worried and you feel badly about this, but there’s not much you can do about that other than reassure her that everything is fine. At least it’s not worse than it usual is.

“Something I had planned fell through and it’s going to be a bitch to reschedule.”

This was the most detail you would give Wanda, and you knew that she preferred it that way. She’d learned the extent of what you did only hours after meeting you. She remembers Google searching you and learning about all of the atrocities you’d committed and being afraid for her brother. He’d been working with you at the time, and she had correctly concluded that being anywhere near you put a target on him that Wanda was not happy about.

Once you started to care about what Wanda wanted, you made sure to fix this by firing him. He’d been mad at you, but making Wanda happy had overshadowed this and paved the way for you two to start dating.

Now not much has changed since Wanda first learned about what you did. The basics were the same. It was illegal and dangerous both physically and financially. You gambled a lot given how you trusted numerous people to do jobs for you, and sometimes they disappointed and you lost out. When things like that happened it was usually money you lost, but tonight you’d probably lost more than that depending on how successful Bucky ends up being.

“I’m sorry.”

It’s the only thing that Wanda can really say in response. She doesn’t ask for details. She certainly doesn’t want to know who you’d planned on killing tonight, so she offers you the only consolation she can. Once you’re both clean, you head back into the bedroom wrapped in towels as you look for your change of clothes. Wanda throws on a long t-shirt and you find a pair of shorts and a t-shirt before you slide under the covers.

“I’m so ready to sleep.”

You practically moan as you lie down on your very comfortable mattress and wait patiently for your wife to join you. As you look up at her, your gaze travels down to where her shirt stops mid-thigh and you can’t help but smile as you reach out to touch. Wanda settles on the bed before grabbing your hands to kiss them with a sigh. She lies down facing you and she looks you over carefully. The circles under your eyes are darker than usual and she can see your stress lines are more prominent as well. She can’t help herself and she squeezes your hands where she holds them to her chest with a sigh.

“How are you really feeling, detka?”

You expected this question much earlier, so you’re ready for it now even though you’re seconds away from sleep. You aren’t; however, prepared to see how softly Wanda’s looking at you. She’s only inches away from you and despite considering that she might think you’re buying your time, you lean forward and meet her lips for a kiss. She doesn’t respond immediately, but she doesn’t pull away so you take that as a win. You continue to kiss your wife, and your hands roam her body as you think about how to answer her.

You’re feeling as stressed as usual, but despite tonight’s hiccup you don’t think your mood is anything to worry about. You take your antidepressants and you do your best to focus on the good things in your life, like your family and friends, when you feel like lashing out at someone. You only crave a drink a couple times a week, but it’s manageable and you are still avoiding bars as much as possible.

You realize that this sounds way too rehearsed, but it honestly is just how you feel. You’re not sure if you’ll ever be able to relax with the job you have, and surely that’s a reason to rethink your occupation. You have a wife, and a child, you should be able to enjoy your time with them without having your mob responsibilities looming overhead.

You had to go to one last week to meet a client, and despite the fact that you just got water your nerves about this particular deal made watching him drink his Manhattan near unbearable. You’d gone home and immediately cuddled with your daughter, and if Wanda picked up on your weird behavior, she didn’t comment on it. She also didn’t comment on how you practically dragged her into bed later.

“Stress is a constant, but it’s not overwhelming.”

Wanda eventually just nods before she leans in to kiss you this time. You smile against her lips before you run your hands up under her shirt to graze her ribs. The resulting gasp makes you scoot even closer to your wife so you can tangle your legs with hers.

“I’m glad it’s not overwhelming you.”

You nod when Wanda says this and you mutter something in agreement, but your main focus is on your wife’s breasts. You are careful because she told you earlier that they were sore, but you can’t help but want to get your hands on them. Seeing how Wanda’s body changed was one of your favorite parts of her pregnancy. You’d been called a teenage boy for admitting it, but watching Wanda swell as your child grew in her made you insatiable. When the first trimester filled with sickness, cravings and poor sleep ended, you’d spent all your free time with your wife and a lot of it had been in bed. You think back on these times fondly, but you quickly return your focus to the present when your wife’s voice registers.

“Mhmm, it is.”

Wanda hisses and arches toward you slightly as you squeeze her breasts before slotting your leg between her thighs. You peek under the covers as you continue to push up your wife’s shirt and you can’t help but smile at what you see. You don’t think you’ll ever stop believing that your wife is the most beautiful woman in the world. As she lays beside you flushed and needy, you can’t help but want to spend hours appreciating the wonderful woman who gave you a beautiful, albeit sometimes exhausting daughter.

“You’re beautiful, Wands.”

You can’t help but smile as you break away from Wanda’s lips to kiss her neck. You feel her pulse quicken as you tease her heated skin with your teeth, and her grip on your arm tightens as she releases a breathy curse.

“Fuck, Y/n. You should really sleep.”

It came out as a question rather than a suggestion, but you still shake your head as you roll over so you’re hovering over your wife. She gasps again and you smile down at her as you carefully position yourself on top of her without moving your hands from her heaving chest.

“I feel great, Wands. Will you let me help you feel good?”

While that does sound appealing and the feeling of your hands on her sore breasts make her want to buck her hips, she’s hyperaware of your attention and it’s making her self-conscious. She knows that she’ll never have her pre-pregnancy body again. She’ll never be slim with a body free of stretch marks, and despite your insistence that she’s still perfect; that you don’t care about that, sometimes the voice in her head is louder than yours.

You know her well, and you can sense that her hesitation is due to her insecurity. It also helps that Wanda’s becomes tense beneath you as she squirms uncomfortably and you have to keep yourself from sighing in disappointment. Instead, you lean over to kiss your wife gently before your hands start to drift down her sides. She jumps slightly as you expected, but they keep wandering until they fall to her hips.

“I know I can say it until you’re sick of hearing me talk, but I love you so much. Do you know that?”

Wanda shifts to help you push her shirt up and off despite wanting to stay hidden. She curses when she feels lips against her breasts, and you wait until you feel her relax a little before moving down to her stomach.

“Well, I do, Wands. I love everything about you.”

Your hands squeeze her hips before you press a kiss against your wife’s tummy rolls. She’d lost most of the weight she’d been carrying with Natalya already, but she still had a little left that she’s not sure she’ll ever shed. Given how busy she is with Natalya and how exhausted she feels by the end of the day, there’s not time for any exercise. She doesn’t count running around while she takes care of her daughter, or the work out you occasionally give her in the bedroom.

Tonight’s not going to be one of those nights though because she can already tell by how tenderly you’re kissing her stretch marks, that you’re just trying to make her feel better. She feels herself relax under your touch, and after a few minutes she releases a tired sigh, and with it some of her anxieties. She reaches down to bury her hands in your hair with a smile. You look up at her from where you’ve rested your head with a smile.

“Thank you, detka. I feel better already.”

You smile wider before reaching for one of Wanda’s hands and kissing it with a questioning look. You’re nearly falling asleep as your muscles continue to ache in protest of your continued consciousness. You need to go to bed soon since you have an early morning, but you need to make sure your wife’s feeling better first. You hate that you may have stressed her out, and you want to fix it if at all possible.

“I’m glad to hear it, but is there anything else I can do to help you relax?”

Wanda smirks at you as she runs her hands through your hair carefully. You haven’t put it up yet, and she loves seeing it unkempt and wild like you are. She can see you’re fading but you’re watching her carefully and she knows that doing anything but telling you the truth will get her in trouble. She sighs as she shifts so she’s more comfortable against her pillow. Wanda meets your gaze with a teasing look that immediately makes you perk up. You’re never one to back down from a challenge.

“You can either hurry up and finish what you started, or you can come up here so we can sleep.”

You smile widely as you move up your wife’s body to kiss her deeply. She moans against your lips and is just short of pushing you away from her when you break the kiss with a sigh. You slide back down the bed before moving to sit between Wanda’s legs. You move so you’re where you need to be before teasing her with your fingers along her inner thighs.

“I’ll make it quick, baby.”

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