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#I love them and miss them and want them back
fairene · 3 days
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passenger princess / ln4
established relationship lando norris x fem!reader
no use of y/n, as always.
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in which the weekend takes a twist, and all you want is a baby.
prompt⋯ hi! first of all, i absolutely ADORE your writing. i’ve been reading all of your stuff for the past few days!! second, i was scrolling on pinterest and i rediscovered the lando daddy bracelet pic. that combined with THE dutch gp pic made me be down even worse for him. with that i request a fic with an established reader x lando relationship. that’s set during the weekend of the 2024 dutch gp. where he wears the bracelet over the course of the weekend and it gets you(? or me? idk how to phrase that) really worked up, and after he wins they fuck while he’s still wearing it. and it’s like the most rough feral sex known to mankind. but at the end you want him to come in you and he’s like “oh you wanna make me a daddy”. like yes it is a slight breeding kink but it’s more of the idea of the bracelet and how he definitely knew what he was doing when he wore it (in the fic and irl too tbh). that’s the general idea but feel free to put your own spin on it!! i am incredibly down bad for him and that photo did something to me. ty 🤗🧡
a/n ⋯ yeah tbh i got no excuse for this one chat...like...how could i not resist a breeding kink...i know y'all want it too. but for real--- thank you anon for being patient. i had a lot of fun writing this in between doing work. writing is an escape for me. thank you to all for the continued support, and i'll be continuing to get through asks as time moves along. comment below to be added to my taglist, or comment in general! i love replying to all of them as much as i can.
warnings ⋯ SMUT 18+++!!! minors DNI!!!, language, choking, p in v sex (wrap before you tap!), fingering!(f)receiving, breeding kink, impregnation, teasing, possessiveness, jealousy, creampie, begging, mating press-- allat shit tbh. if i miss a warning, let me know.
wc ⋯ 8.5k (unedited.)
things had begun to be different between you and lando. you couldn’t pinpoint the exact moment when the gears shifted, the stars aligned, though you only cared how good it made you feel with him. 
but he knew. he knew exactly when.
you’d been dating lando for two years now. it was two years of pure bliss— the exciting lifestyle that you’ve craved, the love and care, the passion that you shared with him was exquisitely yours. he is yours. and you are his.
that morning in the paddock he was speaking to max, chattering about the post collision from hungaroring. they seemed to make up in due time, finding it easier to call one another “brother’s” again, despite the damages done to their cars and the media in an uproar about their impish, punitive behaviors. you didn’t spare any glance towards the comments made about it, knowing that lando had been in a rough shape that weekend. 
you played with penelope, p, as they were talking, squatted on the ground with colored pens in your hand. kelly loomed behind, on her phone, thankful enough that you could occupy her for the time being. you had no issue entertaining her. you loved being around children…most of the time. 
“this one?” you held out the red pen for p, as she was pointing to with a bashful look. she was shy– especially around you, given your ethereal, wanderlust nature. you carried yourself in such an elegant way that could facilitate a ray of sunlight through the most tepid storms. 
she nodded and you handed it to her. she latched her smaller hand around it, coloring in the rb20 from her sketchbook. your hand fell beneath your chin as you watched her carefully color inside the lines, dreading falling out of it. you smiled as she did, the dress you wore crinkling fashionably around your thighs. 
p flashed the page at you nervously, awaiting her input. your eyes glowed, sparkles falling onto the page as you scanned it. she really did do a good job.
“beautiful, p!” you commented, your palm splaying over her upper back. “you’re really good at this, you know?”
a shade of red filled her cheeks, warming her skin. you hadn’t meant to embarrass her, nor make her nervous. 
“do you want to color one with me?” you asked her, pointing to the pages in the book. she hesitated for a moment, as if she didn’t hear you properly, but ended up nodding with the same excitement that she did when she’d see max on the podium. “you pick. something…pretty.”
the gears were turning in her head as she flipped through the pages, trying to find the perfect one for you and her to work on. you, on the other hand, were focused on how her brows scrunched together as she furiously searched through her booklet. it was cute the way she perceived things. she was a cutie. it made you think about your own future, what you wanted. 
what you wanted,
your eyes drifted from the carpeted floors inside the hospitality room, to the shoes that he wore, and up his black jeans to the papaya livery he sported for the day. you lingered on the expanse of his chest, the tan skin peaking through the v-neck of his unbuttoned collar. your mouth watered instinctively, thinking about how lucky you were to have a man like lando love you so deeply.
as you glanced further up towards his chin, the unshaved rigid surface that sparked electricity over your body, you found him already looking down at you. he wasn’t even paying attention to max at this point, already giving you all of his attention and you didn’t even need to ask. 
you gave him a smile, covering your lips afterward to stifle your giggle, and turned back to p once she tapped you that she’d found a picture for the two of you to color.
“mate?”
lando was lost in a daze staring at you. gawking at your figure, the dress you decided to wear. it was a denim colored sheath that you’d twin with alexandra with. she’d wear the gia dress in a pomegranate hue, whereas you took the navy. 
lando’s hand was cupped against his chin, rubbing over his stubble, keen on watching how you interacted with p. 
your relationship had progressed further than he’s ever gotten to before in his life. he was at a point where he knew he didn’t want anyone else, to explore someone else’s body the way he did yours. he knew you, inside and out, and he didn’t think another connection was even fathomable. 
you appeared to be so gentle with her, taking the time to listen to what she wanted you to do, how to color, maneuver the pens. there would be no outside the line coloring on her watch, that was for sure. 
he found himself smiling bright. 
do you want kids? 
he knew that he did. he always knew that. but he’d never broach the subject to you directly. your relationship with him was secure, but was it eligible to be taken to the next level? would you be frightened by his sudden urge to create a life with you? a product of him, and the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen?
“yeah? sorry.” lando looked back towards max. but it was too late, and max was looking over his shoulder towards you and p.
when he looked back towards lando, he threw his hands up in defense. max rolled his eyes. “don’t know why you haven’t proposed to her yet. what’re you waiting for?” 
lando bristled. he waited a moment to answer, wondering the same fucking thing. what was he waiting on? the perfect time, perhaps. summer break was rapidly approaching, and he certainly had a ring picked out. 
the papaya clad driver pulled out his phone and scrolled through his photos, settled on the right one, and handed it to max. the other driver took it, zooming in, not that he needed to. 
“when?”
lando shrugged. “summer break. greece, maybe.” 
max cheered, slapping his hand over his mouth in shock. “you’re serious, mate?” lando nodded. max pulled him in for a hug, slapping him over the back. he couldn’t be happier for his best friend in this moment, starting to jump up and down. lando settled him down and slid his phone back into his pocket. 
“keep it quiet. i want her to be surprised.” 
max made a motion of a lock and key. “surprised about what?” 
lando felt giddy.
you hadn’t been paying much attention to what lando nor max were chittering about. you’d been so hyper focused on coloring with p, that you were absent minded of the conversation behind you. 
p had picked out a cartoon illustration of max and lando smiling towards the viewer. you’d thought it was an adorable choice, and it showed that p was more aware than what she led on to be. she, of course, started coloring in max. with his neutrally blonde hair, redbull cap, she was fast working. 
but then she shoved the book towards you, politely anyways, and pointed at lando, who was yet to be colored in. 
“my turn?” she nodded her head, handing you the orange marker. 
you grinned, carefully coloring in the lines of the drawing before p took a deep breath. “are you and lando married?” 
the question had you freeze momentarily, taken back by her question. “no, p, we’re not.” 
you continued to color, whilst she continued to question. “why not?”
“because he hasn’t asked me.”
“why don’t you ask him?” 
“i’m not sure that’s what he wants.”
p raised a brow. she looked towards lando and max, giggling together like school girls, then back to you and your focused coloring.
she handed you a brown marker for lando’s curls. “i think you should.”
now it was your turn to be inquisitive, “really, now?”
she nodded her head without hesitating. “then you’d be my aunt!” she giggled. 
you colored in lando’s curls, carefully, diligently, thinking of how they felt beneath your fingertips. your breath hitched thinking about the thought of him proposing, wondering if he had ever even thought about it. you knew what your answer would be. it wouldn’t even take a beat of your heart to give him in answer, if he chose to ask. if he chose you. 
with one final stripe of a black marker, your drawing of lando had been finished. you stood up, and so did p. 
“are you going to have babies?”
“p!” you gasped, mouth dropping. “that’s none of your business, young lady.” 
she laughed, twirling around. “what? that’s what mama says happens when you love someone.” confident, wasn’t she? “do you love lando?”
“of course i do, p.”
she gasped.
“is there a baby in there right now?!” she seemed concerned, becoming so bold as to touch your stomach. it was a little higher than where your womb sat beneath your skin, but close enough. 
you shook your head. “no, honey. i am not having a baby right now.” 
she looked disappointed. taking her hand back, she crossed them over her chest. 
“penelope, what are you going on about?” kelly finally chimed in, rubbing p’s back with her hand. 
“nothing.” 
but it wasn’t nothing.
lando appeared behind you, a hand on your lower back. you leaned into him, recognizing his touch, and you got a brief wave of panic wondering if he heard your conversation with p. 
“p,” lando said over your shoulder. she looked up. “do you still have your bracelet making kit?” 
she nodded again, though you weren’t quite sure what he’d need it for. you guessed you’d find out eventually, because lando uttered, “it’s a secret, sorry baby.”
and he followed p to her small table, pulling out the kit from her backpack. she had taken lando’s hand to guide him, and you watched fondly. 
too fondly, you thought, and knew you were in deep shit.
the morning of the dutch grand prix had you biting at the corners of your fingernails with anticipation. the summer break you had spent with lando was more than you could imagine— filled with delicious foods, sunny weather, morning swims, and of course, the sex. with more free time that lando had, he was utterly obsessed with you. he worshiped the ground you walked on, and it made you feel like more than the queen you deserved to be. 
in the paddock you stood, shifting on your feet, anxiously fiddling with your purse once your fingernails sufficed. lily joined at your side, ethereal with her effortless beauty, and she nudged you with her elbow. “you look nervous,” she gave a short laugh.
you scoffed but joined in on her antics. “do i?” you certainly did. lily raised her brows to inquire further of your apparent distress. 
relenting, you couldn’t resist her. there was no reason to— you were both practically attached at the hip. ever since oscar had been signed to mclaren, the two of you were inseparable. the famous mclaren WAGs. 
your relationship with lando had been going on for two years now. sure, you’d had some rocky slopes to climb with the schedule of his career and the development of your own; that’s the thing about relationships though, isn’t it? that no matter what hill you’d have to climb, you’d find one another on the other side. the two of you wanted to make it work, so there was no obsolete universe in which you’d never find each other. 
“he needs this, lils.” you practically sighed, finally gaining the courage to look her in the eye. she looked at you with the same softness that a mother would, or a best friend that you could count on. 
“you know he’ll do well.” oh, don’t you know it. lando, whilst on vacation, never took a moment’s worth of rest. he wanted this just as much as you did for him, a second career win. it was all that you could think about the moment you stepped off the plane before him in zandvoort. it was going to happen. you had a feeling. 
and a good one at that. 
qualifying swept by in a flash. the saturday afternoon was a clean sweep for your boyfriend in the front row. you couldn’t be more proud of him. when he was finished with his interviews and taking his leave with his half removed fireguard, you launched at him.
flinging your arms around his neck, he gripped onto your waist and thighs like his life depended on it. it did. your nose found the sweat against the column of his neck, inhaling deeply. you melted into him.
lando felt the same. with his forehead burrowing into the hair on your scalp, he let out a deep breath that he’d been holding since he got out of the car. 
“missed my sweet girl,” he breathed, the sweat and perspiration heating the hairs on your head. you sighed softly, relaxing into him as he held you tighter. 
you broke away from him, setting yourself on the ground. you stood happily in front of him, rocking on your heels and playing with the hem of the black, sponser-ridden firesuit. 
“‘m so fucking proud, lan. pole? pole on the first race back?” you were in shellshock, overjoyed disbelief. 
he raised a hand to cup your face before he’d be whisked away. the bracelet on his wrist caught your eye, one that he must’ve put on once he stepped out of the car. the friendship letter bracelet read loudly to you, it letters all capitalized. 
‘daddy’
you gripped his hand, observing the ornament. you raised a brow. is this the bracelet he had made with p? 
lando let out a short laugh. “like it?” 
you flushed, staring down at the small, dainty thing. it had you shifting on your feet, ideas and fantasies running wild through your pillage of a mind. “maybe.” you hummed, stroking the beads with your index finger. 
“wore it for you.” 
the statement had you standing up straight. “really now?” lando nodded. 
and before he was whisked away, he whispered into your ear, “don’t get any ideas, baby. i know that look.” 
you were rendered speechless, and by the time you managed to open your mouth, he had already left through the door. 
the following day was race day. you were dressed flawlessly, curating perfection with your outfits to match the same prestige that lando had with his fans. also, you enjoyed feeling pretty. looking pretty, as lando would often say to you. he didn’t forget this morning either, arriving to the paddock with you in tow, hand wrapped tightly with yours.
as he took selfie after selfie, signed hat after hat, he didn’t forget to remind you, “you look beautiful,” that always brought a smile to your face, a blush fanning your cheeks. 
when the two of you made it inside of mclaren’s hospitality, you were greeted by both lily and oscar. you gave her a warming hug, and she returned it with the same affirmation. when you separated, she danced on her tip-toes. lando and oscar side stepped toward the tea and coffee station, chatting amongst themselves. 
“wow!” you were confused, raising a brow. “front row for him, hmm? told you, had nothing to worry about.” 
you rolled your eyes, still holding anxieties for the race. you were always concerned going into a weekend. no matter how many grand prix’s you’ve attended, seen lando come out safe and sound, you still picked at the skin of your fingertips. anxious habits die hard. 
lando’s managers came in alongside oscar’s beckoning both mclaren drivers to follow them to get ready for the race. lando found you instantly, his hands finding the handles on your hips, squeezing inward. you tensed at the action, wondering what had him on such edge. 
you spun, hands running from his chest up to his neck, his cheeks. you cupped his face in your hands, sheepishly smiling. 
“you’ll win this for me?”
he scoffed, “always.” 
you smiled harder—if that was possible— and connected your lips with his. he returned your kiss, diving deep into your mouth. he held you close by your lower back, as if this was the last time that he’d ever kiss you. he sought to deepen your kiss by the clacking of your teeth, his tongue incessantly searching the inside of your mouth. 
you separated yourself, still holding onto his cheeks. lando dipped his forehead against yours, seeking another kiss, but you pulled away. “go. they’re waiting for you.” 
“don’t care.” 
you flushed, allowing him one last peck before you patted his cheek. “seriously. go.” 
he chuckled to himself, kissing the top of your head, uttering a soft “i love you,” before being swept away. 
“i love you too.” you mouthed, returning your attention back to lily. she was in awe of how you and lando behaved, carving such a rugged, playful boy into a man of posture and mannerisms that were only reflected by your good nature. 
“what?”
“nothing…” she looked away.
“lily.” 
“you’ve got that man on a leash,” she broke into a fit of giggles. you looked back to where they were walking out. lando had been looking for you, then at you. he gave a wave, you returned it, then looked back at lily. 
“i prefer the term ‘free-roaming.’” 
the race was coming to an end with a single lap left. lando led the race with a twenty-two second lead, and your hands were clasped tightly together with your headset on. you listened carefully to his radio messages, sassy and revving, and had your eyes locked onto the screen in front of you. with lily by your side, the two of you were anxiously awaiting the end.
your face suddenly appeared on screen, displaying your glistening eyes, perfectly done makeup and hair. a chic smile grew on your cheeks. you turned towards the camera man and allotted a small wave. your name appeared under the screen, lando norris’ partner. 
god…
was there anything more prideful than that?
surely there was, but it didn’t matter to you. you were there to support your boyfriend, lando, your lando, and it was more than enough to see that you were recognized as that. 
the checkered flag appeared and lando was on the headline for crossing. you had to clutch your heart, hoping to grip it from the inside out to slow its beating, and it didn’t cease when his mcl38 zipped past the flag. 
there was an eruption of cheers throughout the garage and you were swarmed with love by the fellow mechanics and lily, too, who was happy for you to witness such a grand victory. a more than well earned victory. 
a second one in the books for him. you couldn’t have been happier. 
the podium gathering didn’t take long, and you managed to be at the front of the barricade, shoved forward by the team. you stood there, graceful and beautiful as he always saw you, and you were the loudest to clap and cheer as he walked out from the cool down room. 
“your winner, lando norris…!” and you couldn’t help the tears that fell down your cheeks, the camera picking up your emotional feedback on the big screen. his eyes caught to it from the bannister, stepping up onto the tallest podium, and found you right at the front. his heart melted, dripped a red hot flame that burned for you. to see you there for him, emotional above all, solidified his feelings. what he wanted in his future. 
you. you above anything else. you above racing, his career, his everything. he had nothing if you weren’t by his side. 
he took off his pirelli hat and let the national anthem play. the camera panned away from you then to zak brown. you swayed gently to the anthem, lost in your own world of loving him. you saw him through clear glasses, though he was always your rose. there was nothing more that you wanted in the future than to be with him. you and lando. 
after his attributed champagne pop, the crowd dissipated from the pit lane and you engaged in conversations with different women, friends, and coworkers of mclaren. you were jovial with your presence, engaged as much as you could be, though your thoughts kept tracing back to him. lando, lando, lando. 
you ended your evening in conversations with the ferrari women— alexandra, rebecca, and one of charles’ friends, marta. you’re a recent acquaintance, meeting her only just a few moments ago. she was noticeably pregnant, and you wondered if that was just the recurring theme of the day. 
“how far along are you?” rebecca chimed in. 
“about twenty weeks, i think.” she smiled, holding her bump and leaning back into one of her heels to get a more comfortable angle. 
“half way there! are you excited?” you asked her, sipping your sparkling water. 
“of course,” she grimaced, though there was joy behind her eyes. “it can be hard, but it’s worth it. always worth it to see my husband with my daughter, and now it’ll be brand new with this babe.” 
you gave her a heart-warming smile. 
“they kick every so often—” she grimaced again, reeling her face into a tight knot. “like right now. do you want to feel?” she was looking at you. it took you a second to understand that she was referring to you, but you jumped at the opportunity.
“are you sure…?” 
marta nodded. “put your hand here,” she placed your hand on her right side. you waited a moment before there was a small lurch beneath your palm. you looked up at her in pure disbelief, marveled by such a feeling. you wondered what it’d feel like to feel your own baby kick. 
“so…” alexandra leered mischievously, “do you plan on having children? with lando?” 
is everyone asking that today?
you stood up straight, embarrassed by the question, and brushed a piece of your hair behind your ear. “for sure. there’s no one else i want. whenever the time is right.” 
“he’d be such a good dad.” alexandra added, and you couldn’t agree more.
“you should’ve seen him earlier with penelope—” the girls were reeling at your story. “making bracelets with her. almost tripped over my own dress,” you covered your mouth to laugh, attempting to keep your voice down.
“someone has baby fever.” marta commented. 
“ugh,” rebecca groaned. “you two are picturesque. alex and i were just talking about it.” 
“oh?” you wished to know more by their insinuation. it wasn’t often that you listened to anything about you or lando’s relationship. half of the time it was negative comments from fans across social media, and you didn’t want the other half to get to your head. you knew you were lucky as is, the least you could do was stay humble. 
“ohhhh most definitely.” alexandra nodded. “you’ve been together for what— ever? we’re waiting for an engagement post.” 
you were floored. it has been a good amount of time. “so am i,” it came as a laugh. you wondered if lando thought about it. if the thought ever crossed his mind— the possibility of you becoming his wife. 
it did. 
he was watching you. he’d been done with his interviews for a good ten minutes now, but he was gripped by the scene unfolding before him. he had distracted himself by glancing at his phone, pretending to be scrolling through notifications. but he was staring. hard. 
your hand was so tender-loving as it grazed marta’s baby bump. you looked up at her with a graceful smile, asking her important questions about her pregnancy. why were you so interested? 
fuck, he hoped the answer he wanted was what you were thinking. 
you, pregnant in your floral dresses, pleated gowns, traipsing around the halls of your joint home. barefoot, glowing, effervescent. he could see it now. the vision coming to life, coming to fruition from just a mere fantasy. he felt his dick twitch in his pants, his groin running hot.
he overheard the conversation, too. 
“do you plan on having children? with lando?” 
for sure. there’s no one else i’d want. 
fuuuuck. lando had to turn around, attempting to calm himself down. his entire body was aflame, an eternal gloss of bliss for wanting you. needing you. he needed to feel you. your touch. your skin beneath him, the way you curl effortlessly against the shape of his body.
yeah, he’s fucked. 
after a few calming deep breaths, he was at least presentable. with his calmed down cock, he immediately made a beeline in your direction. he wanted—no, needed to get his hands around you as soon as possible. it was a world-ending feeling that suffocated him, gripped him by the throat. 
you heard him approach before you saw him. lando’s hands were warm around your hips as he pulled you close. you felt the outline of his cock in his pants as he jut his hips forward. you turned your head over your shoulder, glancing up at him. 
his nose found a home in the curve of your neck. you giggled when you felt his stubble tickle your skin, a hand coming instinctively to hold the side of his face tight against your skin. he breathed soundly against you, finding eternal peace of mind plastered against your body.
“it was nice seeing you alex, rebecca.” you began to bid your farewells. “marta, it was a pleasure to meet you.” marta leaned in for a hug, which pulled you away from the warmth of lando’s body. you felt like a snail ripped from its shell— hollow, cold. 
“the same for you,” pregnancy looked good on her. though, you can’t recall the last time you’ve seen her without a baby blooming inside her. “if you ever need advice…alex has my number.” 
you blushed, feeling lando’s hand around your lower belly tense. “thank you. i’ll be in touch.” you glance towards rebecca and alexandra, following lando’s pace back to the car.
lando’s eyes were hot as they drilled holes into the side of your head. you could feel it, though you weren’t even looking at him. “i can feel your urge to talk, lan.” 
he laughed, holding your hand tight in his. “no. no, it’s nothing.” 
you stopped dead in your tracks, pulling your hand from his, crossing your arms over your chest. 
“okay, okay,” he apologized, taking your hand back into his own, bringing it to his lips to kiss. his lips were warm and wet against your skin. your breath hitched.
“well, go on, then.” 
“this is the congratulations i get? damn, baby, you’re rugged.” 
you shoved his face away, beginning to walk back to the car once more. “you know i’m proud. don’t be silly, now.” 
“i know, i know,” there was a brief silence. “you can show me in other ways.” 
“lando!” you gasped, and he broke into a fit of laughter. “dirty bastard.” you mumbled. 
“what was that, baby?” 
“nothing. nothing. just like what you wanted to tell me, i guess.” two can play at this game. you heard him scoff, but ultimately relent. 
“alright, alright. i just…” he became shy with the tone of his voice. you could recognize it instantly. “heard your conversation with the girls, is all.” 
you attempted your best effort to still your facial expressions from annoyance, shock, embarrassment, and all of the fucking above. 
 “you heard…all of it?” 
“the gist.” 
you tried to cover your face to shield yourself from the world. god, that was your fucking nightmare. you hadn’t ever even touched upon a subject like that with him before. and now he had heard it from you talking to your girlfriends? oh, you just felt like the worst girlfriend in the world right now. 
“fuck. i didn’t mean to—” 
“no, baby,” he opened the car door for you to slip into the passenger seat. you stepped in, gripping his forearm to sit down. 
when he climbed in himself and turned over the engine, you shifted to face him. before you could even open your mouth to speak, he cut you off. 
“i want kids, too, you know. with you.” 
“oh.” a weight lifted from your shoulders in that moment, and then you felt utterly stupid for thinking that he would’ve reacted badly. this is your lando you’re talking to. a man you can share anything with. “you do?” 
he looked flabbergasted. “you’re joking, right?”
you shot your hands up in defense. “i don’t know! children aren’t exactly…temporary. i just— i didn’t know if you thought of me—”
“you’re permanent, love.” his hand wrapped around your thigh as he pulled out of the driver’s lot, whipping past the fans that were keen on snapping a picture of him. 
though you’ve known that, deep down, it still hit you like the first time he told you that he loved you. a jaw-dropping epiphany that had been right in front of you the whole time. you’d been short-sighted, enjoying every moment that you had with him, and had become unknowing about the future you’ve been perpetuating with him.
you covered his hand with your own, playing with the bracelets around his wrist. the charm bracelet ‘daddy’ dangled between your fingers, rolling the beads over and over again. 
“you’d make a good daddy, wouldn’t you?” you said the words under your breath, but even he could hear them like you’d shouted them in his face. he tightened his grip around your thigh.
“don’t say things like that,” he shook his head, eyes locked on the road ahead. 
the air became heavy between you two. when wasn’t it? not only did passion run through your veins, but heinous desire breathed life to your souls. 
“why?” you stroked the top of his hand with your nails. “you heard what i said to the girls.” his head lolled against the back rest. “what’s different now?” 
you felt the car accelerate. it vibrated the cushion you were nestled atop of, sending shockwaves through your cunt.
“driving me fucking nuts, darling.” 
you knew you were. it was the secret to your relationship— the two of you understanding what made you tick. seethe with lust until there was no other option for you to climb him like a tree.
it didn’t take long before he reached the hotel, pulling up to the front. you were getting your things to get up, but he was lost on his phone, pretending to be busy. “coming?” you asked.
“pfft—” you could see him roll his eyes through the rearview mirror. “i wish. give me a second.” you couldn’t help but huff to yourself under your breath, stepping out of the car with your heels clinking to the ground.
 with your purse over your shoulder you stepped up onto the curb, but was distracted by a small voice echoing over your shoulder. 
down the sidewalk was a mother and a stroller. you smirked lowly, taking only the few steps it’d take to reach the mother and child. 
“oh my gosh,” you squealed. the mother was taken back, but by your demeanor and eyes on her baby, she returned a smile. by her pink bonnet and bunny swath, you knew she was the cutest thing you’d ever laid eyes on. “she is just the cutest thing!” 
“thank you,” the woman said.
“she looks just like her mama,” you heard lando’s car door open, most definitely within earshot. “don’t you, sweet thing? yes you do!” you cooed at the baby, who erupted in a fit of louder giggles and mumbles. 
the mother was flushed, but happy. “you’re too kind. you’re good with children? do you have any of your own?” 
jackpot..!!
you clutched your purse as you stood up straight. you played into your theatrics, “oh gosh, i wish! my husband and i have been trying for ages, but he’s just so busy with work…” 
the woman tsked with disappointment for you. “you’d make a beautiful mother,” 
“you think so?” 
she nodded her affirmation. 
“that’s so sweet of you.” you were really milking this scene, especially that you knew lando was listening. 
“is that your husband there?” she pointed to over your shoulder. and there he was, your husband, watching the two of you from behind the ajar car door. 
“mmm, yes, it is.” you offered a cordial wave to him. he stuck two fingers up for a lazy wave, waiting for you to return to him. “i should go. it was a pleasure, ma’am. your baby is adorable.”
she nodded a thanks, and you took your sweet time walking back to the car. you could hear lando tapping the windshield incessantly. before his head dipped down back into the car he called, “get back in.” 
you…admit, you were confused. brows furrowed, you opened the passenger side door and bent down, “why—?”
“get in the car,” your name was a rumble in his chest. you still didn’t know what he was doing nor going, and your stubborn self wouldn’t settle for a verbal answer.
you took too long for him. gripping your arm, he pulled you into the passenger seat, and you landed on your ass with a ‘thump’. 
he fired up the engine again and pulled out of the traffic circle of the hotel. he radiated with heat— you could feel it from where you sat. “where are we going?” 
he didn’t answer you. 
you crossed your arms and legs, looking out the window. the area was unknown to you, but lando always seemed like he knew where he was going. 
it took only a minute for him to pull into an empty level of a parking garage, dimly lit with only one overhead light at the entrance of the ramp. he put the car in park. 
“what are we—”
you couldn’t finish your sentence until you were on his lap, hands gripping your waist so tightly that you had to gasp for air. 
“husband?” 
oh
oh…!
well, this was a change you welcomed with open arms. 
he lowered the seat back until you were straddled atop of him, fingers aimlessly toiling with the zipper of his jeans. 
“don’t know what you’re—”
he snapped upward, gripping your chin between his forefinger and thumb. “baby,” he breathed, and you shivered. “what do you want?”
your hips naturally moved back and forth against his own, dress hiked well above your stomach. his hand snaked between your legs, feeling the wet patch in your underwear. he hummed when you didn’t reply, flicking his finger upward to graze your clit. 
you mewled. 
“what was that?”
your hand twisted around the hem of his shirt. you were already breathless, clenching around nothing except the sound of his words. 
“tell me,” he muttered, staring up at your disheveled state. he made quick work of sliding your panties to the side, massaging the folds of your cunt between his fingers. you continued your writhing against him. 
“want you,” was what you managed to breathe out, hips rutting against his palm. he tsked, but allowed you this moment. a moment for him to bask in the way that you move your hips, writhe against his clothed cock that was egregiously hardening by the second and each amount of pressure you applied. 
he slid his fingers in and out of you with ultra maneuvering, in and out, all around. he was a mastermind when it came to feeling you up, exploring you both on the outside, and the in. you were in heaven, ultimately, when he curled his fingers so deeply upon thrusting them. your cunt tightened so viciously around him that he groaned, his head falling back and his hardened cock thrusting upward. to no avail, his dick was strained against the cloth of his pants.
“fuck,” he cussed, curling his fingers over and over again. your body began to shiver, and only began to fall from grace when his thumb traced against your clit. stimulation grew hotter and hotter, until you let out a piercing moan from the depths of your throat. he angled his fingers differently, making you squirm.
“lando!” you breathed, feeling your climax creeping up on you faster than you could even blink. your core tightened, a coil of veracious flames churning around each other manifesting a slew of energy that released sparks from your nerves. your folds were inflamed, puffy, beating hot that you couldn’t think straight. lando was touching you with his other hand anywhere that he could reach. he palmed your breasts through your dress, twisted a nipple to earn a delicious squeal. 
“come on, sweet thing,” he encouraged you with that stupid lopsided smile of his, you were looking down on him, sweat beading at his forehead, pupils blown dark and wide. his hand that was groping your breast moved upward, threading around the column of your throat. “show daddy what you’re made of.” 
his hand tightened, and you felt the coil snap. he continued to pump his fingers in and out, maneuvering so perfectly, hitting that exact spot with precision. 
he knew you came when your eyes rolled back into your head, legs quivering around his waist. god, you’re a sexy thing. 
his hand loosened from around your neck, dropping to your chest, fiddling with the van cleef necklace he had gifted you. it reeked of possession, marking you as his with the “l.n.” initials engraved on the back of the golden surface.
the moment of bliss passed before he was pulling the zipped down from your dress and throwing it from over your head. your panties were next, though the fabric was thin as is. there you were, bare and glistening, before your so-called ‘husband’ as you had worded it. he wouldn��t forget it, a spark igniting within him that was lit by the phrase leaving your tongue. he didn’t think that it would affect him so much—
but it did. 
he made quick work of his own pants, shoving them down to his knees beneath you, breathless and needy. 
you gripped the hem of his shirt. he lifted his arms to hasten the process, and the shirt went to the back seat. with his skin exposed, you couldn’t help but run your hands along his tan, toned chest. it made you dripping wet, though he was barely touching you now. 
with your skin atop of his, carnage was sure to ensue. he took a drag of his fingers against your wet cunt and brought it to his lips. he sucked on them, releasing with a ‘pop.’ your mouth hung open in anticipation for what he was going to do next. he always kept you on your toes. 
but this…this is not what you expected. 
he took a ring from his index finger, plated in silver, and slid it onto your ring finger on your left hand. the wedding finger. 
it stuck to your sweaty palm, sure enough to not slip off. 
“let’s make it official then, pretty girl.” 
you sat upon him astonished, looking down at the adornment that he had given to you. it dazzled on your finger. 
“if you’re my wife, what does that make me?”
the words trembled from your lips, thighs tightening around his own. you could feel his dick sprung to life against your backside. “my husband.” 
“good, baby, you learn fast.” 
you gulped, finally taking a look at him from his propped upright position. he was downright smitten with you, guzzling everything about you inside of him. you were his, so much fucking so, that he was going to ruin you. and he didn’t even feel bad for wanting it. 
“my husband…” you repeated, lowering your face down to meet his own. he smelled so good—a mix of sweat and his cologne. 
his hand tangled into your hair, creating a makeshift ponytail to meet your eye level. 
“makes me fucking crazy when y’say it…” 
you knew that was the truth. you’d known the minute you sat down in the car. his demeanor had changed, shifted to something darker that you didn’t quite understand. it was insane enough as is that you’d discovered so many things about him within a short period of time. 
“husband, daddy…what’s the difference?” you cooed, kissing up and down his neck. he groaned, landing a smack on your ass that had you giggling. 
“‘ll just make you a mommy if you keep throwin’ that word ‘round.” 
you grinned ear to ear. against his cheek, you took a deep breath in, before letting go. 
“daddy.” 
if you’ve ever made a good decision in your life, this has to be the best. a switch flipped. gears started to turn in his head. the spark plug burst into flames. 
you were his undoer,
the key to his shackled restraint,
the sun to his universe.
it was always you. you’d been right in front of him for the past two years. two years to get to this point. two years for the woman he loved most in this world to be sucking his neck whispering ‘daddy’ into his ear. 
lando sat upright in the seat. with a hand at the back of your head, he forced eye contact with you. this was different. this look. you could feel it in your heart, your folds, as they began to beat synchronously. life with him was euphoria, and sex had been the serendipitous release for both of you. 
but seeking the future together?
heaven incarnate.
despite being locked inside such a tight space, lando managed to swap your position with a suave move. you were on your back, shocked by his carnal rampage, as he hooked your legs upward. your toes scathed the ceiling of the car, pressed deep into the metal chassis. 
“kiss me,” you demanded with the breath that you could take. he didn’t waste a second, leaning down to your lips and capturing you with the most breathtaking press that he could muster. his tongue and your own fought for dominance over one another; you lost, quickly, unable to match his revered pace. 
he wanted to eat you from top to bottom. devour your insides, carry you with him every day of his life. you would be his, one way or another, and he didn’t care how it was. 
lucky enough, you were more than willing to be his bride, his lover, his person. 
because he was yours. 
then he was inside of you. braving the treachery of your tight walls, he hissed when the tip of his cock slipped through your folds. you’d been dripping on the leather seat. 
“fuck, baby…” his head fell to the crevice of your neck and collarbone. 
“oh my goddd…” the moan you both let out was terribly lewd, grotesque, even, with how he didn’t start a pace. you both savored this sweet moment of lust, passion, and a figurative toast to a lifelong commitment to fucking one another. 
with each thrust he took, he aimed to make a statement. deeper and deeper he penetrated you, his cock crafted of divine measure with how he quartered your g-spot. 
you could never stay still beneath him. it had him on edge the way you squirmed. dare say it was one of the most favorite things about you, though the list would be never-ending. you shiver from pleasure, leaning into him as your cunt squelches beneath you. 
echoes of moans bounce off the interior of the car, whilst a smile of greed and possession conceives on his own cheeks. the angle he has you at is deeper than any that you’ve had before— it left no room for noncommittal nature, no room for you to complain about wanting him closer, more, more, more. 
“y’feel me here?” his hand rest on your lower belly, your womb, as he applied pressure. you do feel him there. the indent of his cock is poignant, bulging out from the skin. 
“mhm…!” you whine, trying to keep your mouth shut from the onslaught of moans pouring out. 
his attention turned to your tits as he swallowed a nipple whole with his tongue, sucking feverishly at the sensitive bud. it had you weak, dribbling to puddy. 
he could only think about how you’d look pregnant. swollen tits, round belly, glowing with his child. 
“this what you wanted?” he grunted, his pace quickening. you were too dumb to speak, a droplet of drool leaking from your mouth. “hm? fuck you—fuck, fill you up?” 
your back arched at the sentence, not knowing that his words could have such an arousing effect on you. this arousal was different. the way you clench around him was different. your actions spoke a lot louder than your words. 
“yeah? i can feel you, darling.” sounds of skin slapping and your hoarse voice could only be heard. he fucked you so good, treated you even better. fuck it, you’d rather be pregnant than anything else. 
“please, please…” you didn’t know what you were pleading for, in truth— he was already fucking you like he’d been in a rut. 
“yeah? that what you want? want a baby?” 
your head nodded furiously up and down, tears of pleasure streaming down your cheeks. lando bent down to kiss them away, followed by a capturing of your lips. he swallowed your breaths, your moans. he trailed kisses down the column of your throat; your collarbones, breasts, nipples, nothing went untouched by his mouth. 
“god…these…” he muttered against your tits, voice sending shockwaves through your body. “imagine how big they’d be.” he managed to chuckle to himself. “swollen and beautiful,” he kissed the top of your abdomen. 
“lando…”
his head shot up from his daze. 
“the time is right. please, please—” your words seemed to hit him like a truck. the foreplay had turned reality, and he was more than ready to lurch into fate. 
“what, pretty girl?”
your face flushed, biting your lip. “give me a baby, need it—lan, need it so bad.” your hand found the back of his neck, tugging on the strands of his hair. 
he tsked, his pace evening out to a level throttle. your lips formed a sweet pout, and he stroked your chin with his index finger. “give you?” he mocked. “oh, don’t think that’s how we ask, do we?”
“lan…please, please, can i have your baby? need it so bad lando, need it…” you swallowed your breath. “daddy…wanna make you a daddy…please.” 
it was more than enough for him. “atta girl.” he grunted, deepening his lackluster thrusts into thrilling rides on his cock. “y’learn fast…kids ‘r gonna be so smart.” 
“yes, yes! so good, lan.” you heaved, the heat in your cunt finding a boiling point, and he felt it by how tight you became around him. 
“go on, baby, take it. be a good girl and take it all.” you’d do anything to hear your lando call you a good girl. it had been more than enough to send you over the edge into a spiraling orgasm that had slick seeping around his cock. your vision whitened, and you could only see the shadow of your ‘husband’ through the light. 
with sloppy thrusts, lando came with ease. he didn’t pull out urgently, letting his cum soak inside of you. he peppered kisses along your ankles, your calves, and let them fall to the seat. 
out of breath, your chests rose and fell at a rapid pace. lando’s forehead connected with your own, and through the haze of post-sex, he smiled at you. 
you smiled back. the two of you broke into a laugh. 
“fuckin’ knew that was gonna happen today.” he commented lazily into your chest. a hand of yours threaded through his brown curls. 
“your mastermind plan to babytrap me.” 
he raised a brow. “did you plan on leaving?”
you gave him a knowing look. “not in the slightest.” 
he became embarrassed and sheepish as he hid his face into your ribs. “no chance of it, now.” 
you chuckled, flexing your fingers to see the ring still there. “i want a real proposal, by the way.” 
his head shot up. “what? this wasn’t good enough?”
you palmed his face with one hand, and tugged the back of his curled head with the other. “bastard.” 
it only took you two ten minutes to get your clothes back on from such a leisurely excursion from the empty parking garage. covered in his spit, sweat, and cum, you didn’t feel….dirty. 
when he finally pulled up to the valet and opened the door for you, you stepped out as graciously as possible. though your hair was a tangled mess— you tried your best. lucky enough it was late enough to where minimal paparazzi were gathered. thank god. 
you shifted on your feet, shimmying the dress down, but lando came to your rescue. he pulled the dress down where it was crumpled at the back, caught between the hem of your soaked underwear. 
“that was a rental, wasn’t it?” you pointed out, looking over your shoulder.
“they should auction it.” 
you spun around and laughed in his face, gagged by the ego he has. “you have a big head.” 
“need all that room for you.” 
“cheesy.” 
lando’s eyes lit up— though exhausted from the day and your antics, the sun still rose for him— “almost forgot—” he reached into his pocket whilst you waited patiently. 
he pulled out a bracelet.
a friendship bracelet. 
“thought it suited you.” he put it around your wrist, and you analyzed it clearly. in white, capitalized letters it read:
“MOMMY”
“you really had this thing planned.” you were impressed. 
he shifted on his heels, throwing his hands up as if saying ‘what can i say?’ “p thinks you’re pregnant now.” 
you gasped. “lando!” 
“i mean…hopefully.” he winked as you fiddled with the jewelry, still not bothering to take off the ring from your finger. 
“well…” you brought a finger to your lips, thinking, “we have to be certain, don’t we?” 
lando was catching your drift as you walked backwards towards the entrance of the hotel, luring him in with your charisma. “perhaps…”
“so…we need to try again.” he wasn’t going to argue with that. “and again.” or that. “and again, for good measure.” 
“you’re gonna kill me, baby.” he whined, chasing you up the steps. you squealed, running forward. inside the elevator you two went, clicking the floor for your room. 
after further inspection, lando’s brows furrowed after he glanced over you. “what?” 
he covered his mouth to shield his devious smile. 
“what, lando?” 
he coughed to hide his amusement, but it was a very bad act. “you’re…”
“what?” 
“you’re dripping.”
you looked down at your thighs and saw the glistening reflection of his cum seeping out of you. fuck. maybe the first time was the charm, but you hoped it wasn’t. 
you really hoped it wasn’t. 
tags ; @landoslutmeout@basicallyric@mybluesoul1@toriiez@customsbyjcg-blog@sofs16@strengthandstay@mybluesoul1@f1fantasys@cmleitora @idgasb @amalialeclerc @laneyspaulding19 @staurdvst @oreosareara @sideboobrry11 @mortallyblueninja @fionamiller123 @2pagenumb @marvelfangirl04 @brune77e @allabouthappiness @tellybearryyyy @ringdingdingdingx @tillyt04 @danywonderland @rosebud224 @simpfortoomanymen @nataliambc @forcesensitivesoulmate @sweate-r-weathe-r @norlestappen @madszoca @milkandcookhot @fionamiller123 @16f1lc @jwiltsz @plotpal @inevesgf @theonottsbxtch
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cinnamorollcrybaby · 2 days
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girl i love your shut up mom and career day fic so much!!!!!! i was wondering if you can do something similar to bothh? no pressure if you dont wanna!
Baby's first words
Tags: fluff, crack, jjk men as dads x fem!reader, angst on Nanami's!!!
Synopsis: You and your husband have been trying to get your child to say their first words. Chaos ensues.
An: I hope this is close enough to what you were requesting!! I really couldn't think of much more. Also, I want to point out that I completely forgot that Todo's first name is Aoi. I want to clarify that it is completely unrelated to your baby's name with Satoru lol.
SATORU • SUGURU • TOJI • SUKUNA • NANAMI
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SATORU
"Alright Aoi, say da-da, and I'll give you this yummy scoop of baby food." Your husband coaxes as he holds out a spoonful of baby food just out of your small baby's reach.
"Stop bribing our kid to say dada." You giggle as you walk up to your adorable baby sat in his high chair. You fluffed Satoru's hair affectionately with your hand. These were the moments that made life worth living.
"Hmph. I want dada to be his first word. Wouldn't that be so cool?" He asks with a small pout as he coaxes your baby's attention again with the spoon. "C'mon Aoi, da-da." He sounds out the word phonetically to try to teach Aoi.
However, your pretty blue-eyed baby looked up at you with the brightest smile. "Mama!" Aoi cried as he made grabby hands for you.
Yours and Satoru's mouths completely dropped. While you immediately started laughing and picking up Aoi out of the highchair to snuggle your baby, your husband just looked at you with a bittersweet pout. He wanted to be y'all's baby's first words, but it was worth it to see your reaction to Aoi saying mama.
"That's right, baby. Mama." You encourage, smooching him on his chubby little cheek.
"Alright, I get it kid. I'd say mama to get a kiss too." Satoru laughs as he holds out his cheek towards you with a playful grin.
Jokingly rolling your eyes, you press a kiss to Satoru's cheek too.
SUGURU
"Alright girls, can you say da-da?" You said to the two young twin girls in their highchairs. You pointed to Geto as he stood next to you.
"They're too young to be talking, darling." He muses as he looks at your twin girls.
"But they're not too young to learn. Don't act like you don't want to hear them say dada." You poke Geto in his side, causing for him to let out a hearty chuckle.
"I want to keep them as young for as long as possible. Watching them grow up is going to send me into an early retirement." He says as he lovingly rubs on your back.
A doorbell sounding throughout the house caused your husband to sigh deeply. He hated being pulled away from these moments with you and the girls.
"Were you expecting someone?" You curiously ask.
"No, it's probably just one of those filthy monkeys again." He gripes as he pinches the bridge of his nose.
"Dada!" Mimiko shouts with a giggle, garnering both your attentions.
"You really have to stop saying that in front of the girls." You chide as Geto picks up Mimiko from her highchair.
"My sweet girl." He grins at the baby in his hands and blows a raspberry on her cheek.
The doorbell rings again, and you sigh this time. "I guess I'll go get it." You say as you start to walk away.
"M-m... ma..ma.." Nanako quietly whimpered as your presence left the room.
"Oh, it's okay, little one. She'll be back." Geto soothes as he picks his other daughter up with his other arm. What's the purpose of having two arms if you couldn't snuggle both your twin daughters at the same time?
After scaring off a salesman, you return to the heartwarming sight.
"You missed it, darling. Nanako said mama." Geto informs you with a proud smile.
"I always miss the good parts!" You complain as you scoop Nanako up out of Geto's arms. "I hope they stay this little forever."
"Me too."
TOJI
"Okay Gumi, can you say ma-ma?" You say as you're staring with a bright smile at your flat expression baby. He honestly looks like he might be judging you for even insinuating that he'd say mama.
"Okay, tough crowd." You muse as you hand Megumi one of his toys for him to play with.
You have been trying to teach him how to say mama for the past month or so, but he hasn't really said much of anything. He'll babble sometimes, but it's rare.
You were concerned about his mental and social development, but his pediatrician assured you that there was nothing wrong with little Megumi.
"He just doesn't want to talk yet." The doctor informed you with a lighthearted laugh.
It was semi-funny, but you couldn't help and compare with other moms. You knew it was wrong and every baby developed at their own rate, but you really just wanted to hear your baby's sweet voice.
Toji walks in through the front door immediately kicking his shoes off. "No one touch me. I'm covered in blood." He grunts as he tries his best to maneuver and not spread the blood everywhere.
Given his job, you were already use to this. "It's not yours, right?" You ask as you look up at him.
"Course not, babe. What do you take me for? An amateur?" He asks with a cocky grin.
Megumi looks up from his highchair, and his eyes immediately go as big as saucers upon seeing his dad walk in through the door. "Papa!" He immediately cries out, making grabby hands towards Toji.
You stare at your son in disbelief. "You little traitor!" You whine, but you also feel the relief pool into you. Your baby really just didn't want to talk to you, but that's fine.
"Ahh you little shit. You would do this when I can't pick you up. Your mama will kill me if I get blood on you." He grins as he carefully pats Megumi's hair with a clean hand.
"Damn right. Go shower." You instruct with a small grin.
"Yes mam." He retorts playfully as he shot you a little wink.
SUKUNA
"Okay Ryu, say ma-ma." You say to your little pink-haired baby as he's looking at you from his high chair.
"That's so amateur. He's the son of the king." Sukuna says as he pulls up a chair and sits backwards in it, facing y'all's baby. "Say dismantle." He grins wildly, and your sweet baby just giggles at him.
"You dare laugh in the face of a king, hm?" Sukuna asks as he playfully narrows his eyes. Despite how scary he was trying to seem, Ryu just kept smiling at him and giggling.
"Stop trying to get our baby to say cursed techniques." You chide your husband while shaking your head.
"Fine. Say Satoru Gojo's a bitch."
"Ryomen!"
"What!?" Sukuna shouts defensively. "I'll never forgive that white-haired bastard for teaching his kid to say 'kuna sucks'." You quietly laugh remembering that random video that was sent to you two.
In their older age, Sukuna and Satoru had settled on having a baby race. Constantly filming their baby's milestones and gloating to the other.
Sukuna had practically cheered whenever little Ryu was eating more solid foods than Gojo's kid was.
"D...d.." Ryu babbles and tries to get his syllables right.
"Woman. Get your phone machine out. He's going to cast his first domain." Sukuna says as he's immediately grabbing onto your arm.
"Sukuna, for the last time. It's just called a phone, and he's not going to cast a domain." You say as you start recording your little baby Ryu.
"Da..da... dada." Your son babbles out reaching up towards his dad.
Sukuna's face slightly drops, but it wasn't to one of sadness. No, he felt surprised. His son was reaching to him, calling for him. To most people, he was the King of Curses, but to little Ryu, he was simply dada.
Your husband scoops your son into his arms, hugging him lovingly. "I'll let you slide just this once. Next time you'll cast a domain." He says playfully while cradling his son in his arms.
Later, you would get a text from Gojo after sending him that video.
Gojo: Cute kid. Sukuna looks happy. Fucker is finally softening in his prehistoric age.
NANAMI
"Say da-da..." Your voice plays over Nanami's phone as he watches the video you just sent him of you teaching Hana how to say her first words.
"Dada!" Hana yells with a cheerful smile while clapping her little hands together.
Your husband smiles, missing you two dearly right now. It feels like his heart lives outside his chest. If he could afford it, he'd go home and snuggle with you two.
Yn: Stay safe out there, Ken. Please.
He promptly texts back, promising that he'll be back home before you know it. Though, something about the air in Shibuya tonight gave Nanami second guesses about that.
He could leave. He could leave right now and return home to you and his daughter, but his students and his peers need him.
Yn: The power's out here, Ken. Is everything alright?
Yn: Jesus I can hear the explosions from here...
Yn: Please tell me that you're safe...
Yn: Hana and I are evacuating. I love you. Please text me as soon as you can.
Yn: You fuckig promised... you liedd to me.
Yn: What do I tell Hana every time she says dada?
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Text
Mornings With All Of You » Bucky Barnes/Winter Soldier
Pairings: Husband/Dad!Bucky x Wife/Mom/Pregnant!Reader with kids Becca and James Jr
Summary: Bucky enjoys his morning with his wife and kids.
Warnings: Fluff, language, kissing, nicknames/pet names
A/N: Thank you @buckys-wintersoldier for brainstorming ideas with me🥰🩵
Written on my phone. My apologies for any mistakes.
Header made by @buckys-wintersoldier
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“Mommy said to not wake up daddy.” Yours and Bucky’s 4 year old daughter, Becca says to her 2 year old brother James Jr.
“Dada.” James Jr says, pointing at the closed bedroom door.
Bucky just got home from a two week long mission and you’re letting him sleep in. You told the kids to let their daddy sleep, but they didn’t listen. They just want daddy’s attention and lovings.
Becca is the smart one. She gets that from you. She knows it’s bad to disobey what you tell her and her brother, but she’s a total daddy’s girl. If she wants to see her daddy, she’ll see her daddy.
She walked to the closed bedroom door and stood on her tippy toes to open it. She held onto the wall so she didn’t fall. She opened the door with ease and pushed it open. Becca turned to James Jr and put a finger against her lips, telling him to be quiet as they walked in the bedroom where their daddy is sleeping.
Bucky may have enhanced hearing, but surprisingly he didn’t hear the door open and his kids walk in the room. They somehow to manage to climb up the side of the bed to get on top of it. They crawled to him and snuggled themselves under the blanket and against Bucky’s sides.
They couldn’t hold their giggles in. Bucky’s eyes fluttered open when he heard his kids’ giggles. He looked on both sides of him, seeing them laying next to him.
“Good morning, daddy.” They say at the same time.
“Good morning, munchkins.” Bucky says happily.
Bucky sat up, leaning his back against the headboard of the bed.
“Where’s mommy?” He asks.
“Cooking and baking room.” Becca answers.
That’s what she calls the kitchen.
“Mommy make muffins.” Jame Jr tells him.
“What kind?” He asks.
“Chocolate chip blueberry!” Becca answers.
“Ooh, sounds good!” Bucky says.
Bucky got out of bed and carefully picked up his son and daughter in each arm, making them giggle uncontrollably. You put a tray of muffins on the kitchen counter and looked up when you heard the sound of giggles entering the kitchen. You smiled when you seen your husband and kids.
“I told them not to wake you up.” You say, kissing Bucky good morning.
“It’s fine, doll.” Bucky carefully placed them on the floor and they ran to the living room to watch cartoons. “I love it when they wake me up.” He says.
Bucky put his hands on your sides, rubbing them up and down. His hands slowly made their way to your 2 month pregnant belly, caressing it. He looked down at your belly with the look of love and adoration on his face.
“I can’t believe we have third one on the way.” He muses.
“You better believe it cause she’ll be here before we know it.” You mused with him, putting your hands on top of his.
“She?” Bucky playfully raised an eyebrow at you. “I think we’re going to have another boy.” He says.
“You just like to be right, don’t you, Sarge?” You giggled.
“I was right with James Jr.” He says with a proud smile.
You playfully rolled your eyes at your husband and kissed him. You wrapped your arms around his waist, wanting him to be close to you.
“Do you have to go to the compound today?” You asked.
“Nope.” Bucky answers. “Steve gave me the next couple of days off to spend with you and the kids.” He tells you.
“That’s good, because I missed you.” You put your chin on his chest, looking up at him. “I think the kids missed you more than me though.” You say.
“Our kids always find a way to out rank us.” He says.
You giggled softly. Bucky kissed your forehead, making you smile. As you two were pulling away from each other, the kids came running in the kitchen.
“Are the muffins done?” Becca asks, looking up at you.
“Yes.” You confirmed with a smile.
The kids cheered happily and excitedly, making you and Bucky smile down at the two little creations you two brought into this world. Bucky got the kids seated at the table in the dining room while you took breakfast in there. During breakfast, the kids told you and Bucky what they want to do today. Bucky listened to everything his son and daughter said with the look of adoration on his face.
After breakfast, you cleaned up while Bucky cleaned the kids up. They’re messy eaters. He got them dressed and then got himself dressed. He walked back in the kitchen at the same time you were finishing up with washing the dishes. He walked up behind you, wrapping his arms around you from behind and put his hands on your belly. You smiled and leaned into his touch.
“Do you know how much I love you?” Bucky asks softly, leaning his chin on your shoulder.
“You tell me about a billion times a day.” You say with a smile.
Bucky carefully spun you around so you were facing him. His hands were now on your waist, pulling you against his body.
“Let me tell you a billion times more.” He murmurs softly.
You wrapped your arms around his neck when he kissed you softly and sweetly. You two couldn’t help but smile against each other’s lips.
“Hey!” You and Bucky heard a small high pitched voice, already knowing it’s Becca.
You and Bucky laughed lightly and pulled away to see what she needed.
“That’s how you get cooties!” Becca exclaims.
“Me and daddy can’t get cooties, because we’re married.” You explained to your daughter. “Plus, daddy is a Super Soldier so it won’t affect him at all.” You tell her.
Becca stared at you like you just said the most interesting thing in the world. You walked past her and playfully ruffled her hair and went to the bedroom to get dressed. Becca didn’t miss the way Bucky was looking at you as you were walking away. He had the look of love and adoration on his face. She was curious to know why he was looking at you like that.
“Daddy?” Becca taps on Bucky’s leg to get his attention.
“Yes, sweetheart?” Bucky asks, picking her up and walked to the living room to sit down on the couch.
“Why do you look at mommy like that?” She asks curiously.
“Mommy is my wife and the love of my life. I love her with all of my heart. She makes me so happy.” He explains. “You and your brother make happy and I love you two as well.” He says, kissing her forehead.
“What about the baby in mommy’s belly?” She asks.
“I love the baby in mommy’s belly too. He or she is going to make me happy too.” He says happily.
You walked in the living room with James Jr in your arms and sat down on the couch next to Bucky and Becca.
“Daddy love you!” Becca blurts out.
“Oh, he does, does he?” You say.
“He said you’re his wife.” She says.
“He’s right. I am his wife.” You smile widely. “And I wouldn’t change it for the world.” You say, kissing Bucky’s cheek.
Becca and James Jr carefully slid off of yours and Bucky’s lap to play with their toys on the floor while cartoons played on the TV. You slid closer to Bucky, snuggling yourself against his side. Bucky wrapped his arm around you, gently rubbing your belly with his hand.
“I love mornings with all of you.” Bucky says softly and happily.
“Me too.” You say softly, leaning up to kiss him sweetly.
James Jr threw a stuffed animal at you and Bucky when he seen you two kissing.
“Yucky!” James Jr shouts loudly, making you and Bucky laugh.
🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵
-Bucky’s Doll
448 notes · View notes
nicksolemnlyswears · 2 days
Text
JUST TEASIN’
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summary: you call joel an old man…amongst other names
pairing: joel miller x reader
word count: 4.4k [i need to learn how to keep things concise]
warnings: 18+, cursing, spanking, p in v, fingering, oral (male receiving), age gap? totally legal though, joel's in his early 40s and reader is in her early 30s, joel is an ass guy which is strange cause i always make my men boob guys, idk i guess this is pretty tame
a/n: as a joke i tend to call pedro and joel peepaw cause he’s older and a total dilf but i love these men so fucking much. i'll be the first to get on my knees
thought i’d make a sweet oneshot about how they’d react to you calling them old. it’s a mix of fluff and smut. a little something for everyone!
also don’t judge me, this is my first time writing for joel 🥺
there’s a little nudge to another favorite fictional men of mine
i want to thank @yxtkiwiyxt for providing me with all the pedro pascal pictures and gifs and movie trailers and for ranting with me all day every day about how amazing this human is… if anyone is to blame about this oneshot it’s her ❤️
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It’s one of those lazy Sunday mornings where everyone sleeps in, leaving the Miller household at complete ease. There are no responsibilities to tend to and nowhere to go.
You’re the only one awake, singing quietly under your breath and flipping pancakes until they’re nice and golden. Joel will come seeking you out soon, missing the warmth of your body and Sarah will follow when Joel cracks her door open to let the sweet smell of batter waft into her room.
No matter how hard you try you’re always the first one up. Sometimes you stay in bed with your husband, tracing figures on his bare skin until he pulls you into him and kisses your head good morning, raspy voice begging you for five more minutes.
But most of the time you decide on getting up and having an early start to your day, which includes making breakfast and sorting through your work emails.
The puppy Sarah adopted a couple weeks ago, sits on your feet, licking your legs as if begging for the fluffy sweetness of the pancakes. He had a taste of it when batter dripped on the floor, he licked it up before you had the chance of cleaning it.
Lost in your little world, singing to the tune of Lana del Rey you fail to notice your husband coming down the stairs. Joel leans against the kitchen island admiring you in your distracted state. The loose brown curls in a disarray at the top of his head.
His eyes scan you from head to toe, noting your messy hair pulled up to a half ponytail half bun thing he can’t begin to explain. Down they go to the cropped tshirt with his company’s logo on the back. The frayed edges are the byproduct of your use of kitchen scissors to crop it yourself.
Joel bites his lip as he ogles at your ass and thick thighs framed by the tiniest cotton shorts he’s ever seen. They fail to cover the bottom of your butt cheeks, exposing a sliver of the indigo panties and the crease where thighs meet butt.
Unable to stay away, Joel wraps his warm arms around your waist as he presses a kiss to your temple. He squeezes you to him, bodies pressed flushed to reveal the stiffness in his pajama pants.
The puppy wags his tail in the presence of his favorite human, standing on two legs to call his attention. The man didn’t want him in the first place but was out voted by the females in the household.
“Morning,” Joel murmurs, placing kisses all over your cheeks and down your neck until he finally presses a warm kiss on your shoulder where he rests his chin to look over at the stovetop.
“Morning old man,” you say with a giggle as his scruffy beard tickles your skin. Your lips press against his in a quick kiss, muffling his sigh of disappointment.
“Don’t start, sweetheart,” he warns. His lips brushing against your ear. Joel’s hands find themselves under your tshirt, his thumbs ghosting over your underboob. At the same time the fingertips of his other hand teasingly dip on the waistband of your shorts.
“Or what?” You say with a bite to your lip, flipping over the last batch of pancakes. Couple more seconds and they would’ve burned—that’s how much he distracts you.
“It’s too early for this!” Sarah’s high pitched voice yells. “Not in the kitchen and not in front of the baby, please!”
The puppy scrambles over to Sarah, jumping into her arms. He recognizes she’s the one who will cave and give him scraps of food.
Joel, startled, takes his hands off of you, facing Sarah with an apologetic smile, not that she sees it as she covers her eyes with a hand. “Are you decent? Can I look now? I’m really hungry if you don’t mind.”
You laugh loudly, shaking your head at Sarah’s dramatics. She takes after Joel and is well on her way to beat him at his own game.
“We’re not doin’ anythin’,” Joel mumbles, sitting on one of the kitchen island stools and petting the pups fluffy head, and the ear that flipped over cutely.
“Not yet,” you whisper to him as you place his stack of pancakes in front of him.
“I heard that!” Sarah yells, covering her ears this time. Joel laughs, nudging her shoulder and telling her to pass the syrup.
You lean across from them, grabbing a sliced strawberry to plop into your mouth. Sarah takes over the conversation as you and Joel share a glance. This is far from over.
Later on the day you head outside with a tray of lemonade and pie in your hands. You’ve gotta take care of your dear husband before the Texas heat gets the best of him.
You nudge Joel’s leg with your foot. He’s under the beat up truck, fixing some odd part. He has the means to replace the old thing but he likes to remind you that ‘Betsy,’ as he’s named his truck, is a part of the family and will never be replaced.
“Thanks, darlin,‘“ he drawls, wiping his dirty hands on a random rag he found on the bed of the truck.
Joel takes a second too long to get up from the floor. You see the hesitance in his eyes as he tries to think the best way to stand without hurting or pulling a muscle.
This is your chance. “Need help there, grandpa?” You pipe up, resting the tray on the portable table scattered with tools.
Joel openly glares at you while you smile broadly at him. It’s not often you make fun of his age, or rather, the age gap between the two of you. It’s only when you’re feeling a particular sort of way.
The age gap between the two of you isn’t the craziest but it’s large enough for people to notice. Joel is easily through the first half of his fourth decade, while you are barely entering your third.
“Watch your mouth,” Joel warns you, standing up quickly despite the cracking of his knees and the ache on his lower back.
Your eyes spark when he grabs the glass of cool lemonade and begins chugging it. The drops of sweat sliding down his neck and into the damp collar of his shirt stealing your attention and any innocent thought you’ve might’ve had about him. They weren’t many to begin with.
You clench your thighs together as you imagine licking that same trail, tasting his salty skin. Say what you want but you love a man that works with his hands and gets all dirty and grimy.
Joel catches onto the glazed look covering your eyes and grasps your chin between his thumb and pointer finger. His body gravitating towards yours as if nature demanded it.
You’re overly conscious of the motor oil covering his hands if not you would’ve sucked his thumb into your mouth, reminding him just exactly you can do with your tongue.
“What’s in that pretty lil head of yours, darlin’?”
Him. It’s all about him. He’s always interrupting whatever sane thought you have. Scenarios of you being bent over the hood of the truck as he sinks his aching length from behind. You riding him in the front seat as you’ve done on more than one occasion, fogging up the windows. The time he was knuckles deep inside of you, teasing fingers drenched during his lunch break.
“How good gray looks on you,” you reply, diverting the conversation somewhere else entirely. A delicate fingers wraps around the charming curl that constantly falls over his forehead, twirling it around.
Joel doesn’t take kindly to your comment, rolling his eyes and clicking his jaw as he lets go of you to return to the truck. Your hand which had been playing with his curl drops to your side as you cock your hip to assess him.
He’s much too aware of the age gap, it makes him insecure. Like you’ll one day realize you’re with an old man and leave him for someone younger.
Except in your eyes he’s the most perfect man alive. The grey streaks of hair that mix with the typical brown of his curls give him an air of authority, making him look dashing in all ways. A silver fox. Strong muscles from working manual labor most of his life are now covered with a healthy layer of fat but remain strong nonetheless. Warm brown eyes that sweep you off your feet every morning as soon as they open.
That man is aging like fine wine and he doesn’t begin to realize it. You feel extremely lucky to be the only one to enjoy it…squeaky joints and all.
Joel is experienced and mature and loyal. He simply wants to have a nice life with his family. A family you’re now a part of. It’s all a woman could ask for.
“You know I love you,” you tell him, wrapping your arms around him as he leans over the hood.
“Love to torture me,” he scoffs, taking hold of one of your hands affectionately. He can never stay mad at you.
“I don’t know what you mean? I brought you lemonade and even that apple pie you love so much,” you feign innocence, pressing a kiss to the middle of his back.
Facing you with a sigh, he lets his heavy hands fall on your hips, “What’re you playing at?”
“Me? Nothing,” you say with a wicked smile, “I’m gonna go with Sarah to the mall to get her homecoming dress. Will you be alright here with Ghost?”
He’s quickly distracted by the words Sarah and Homecoming. His babygirl is growing too fast, starting High School and going on dances with boys. She hasn’t told him yet if she’s been invited by someone and he hopes it stays that way.
There’s no way he’s letting her go with a date and you can’t convince him other wise. If she wants a date she can take the puppy she adopted, Ghost. Joel is determined to teach the ball of fur how to defend his daughter.
“Here,” he says, pulling out his wallet to hand you his credit card.
“No, it’s my treat!” You say, pushing his hand away.
“Take it,” Joel insists, trying to slip it into the tight pair of jeans you’re wearing. Fuck. How didn’t he notice until now.
It should be illegal to wear jeans that make you look THAT good. The blue material hugs your thighs tightly and lifts your perky ass to heaven—not that you other wise need it.
He doesn’t hold back and slides his palms on your back pockets, giving you a firm squeeze. You stumble, falling onto him with a weak protest.
“‘M so fucking lucky you’re my woman,” he groans, taking another feel. Temporarily forgetting the conversation at hand, yet another comment directed at his age snaps Joel back to reality.
“Honey, I know I married an older man but it wasn’t for your money,” you tease again, patting his cheek and removing his hands from your pockets—credit card and all.
A sharp slap to your ass, startles you, eliciting a cheeky giggle. All this teasing and you’re leaving him home alone with the mutt.
You don’t apologize, you’ll never apologize for teasing him. Unless it’s in the right circumstances…in his bed.
Towards the end of the night you finish pushing him to the edge of no return. Remember, opportunities are always around when you’re determined.
“Dad, can you sign this for school?” Sarah comes into the living room where you and Joel are watching a movie. Ghost’s head is plopped on his lap, where Joel had been ‘forced’ to pet him.
“What’s this for?” Joel tries to read the paper but has to keep it at arms reach to be able to read it. Failing, he searches for his glasses until Sarah points at his head where they’ve been resting for half the night, nestled between his curls.
You stifle a laugh as you think of what to say. “Sorry Sarah, good old peepaw needs his glasses to read.”
It’s clear you’re pushing it far as Joel freezes only to glare at you. If looks could kill you’d be six feet underground. Sarah laughs until her belly hurts, repeating the word peepaw between breaths.
“You two are bullies,” Joel shakes his head in disbelief, signing the permit and handing it to Sarah who is wiping her tears away.
“I’m heading to bed, goodnight old man,” Sarah tells a pouting Joel, kissing his cheek and running up the stairs. “Come on, Ghost. Bedtime!”
“Peepaw? Really?” Joel raises his eyebrows at you when both Sarah and Ghost are gone.
You shrug feigning innocence, hiding your smile with the edge of the blanket. ”Yeah, peepaw. It’s cute.”
“It ain’t cute,” Joel kisses his teeth before turning off the TV and standing from the couch, leaving you behind.
“Where are you going?” You call after him.
“To bed,” he dryly responds, shutting off the lights and climbing the stairs. He only leaves the lamp by the couch on. How considerate of him.
“What? Joel it’s barely 10!” Hiding your satisfaction is difficult. Joel’s ticked off, a day of calling him old will do that. It’s exactly what you hoped for.
“Guess that’s what old men do, darlin,’” Joel says sarcastically half way up the stairs.
With a hand over your mouth, you follow him, “Honey, come on. Don’t be angry, it’s harmless teasing. Are you really heading to bed?”
Joel turns at the top of the stairs, glaring down at you, “You really think I’m an old man?”
“Technically speaking you are an older man,” you quip, scrunching your nose cutely.
“You know that’s not what I mean.” Joel crosses his arms, reprimanding you for your cheekiness.
“I dunno why you get like this, you should know I love my older men,” you say sultrily, although it falls on deaf ears as Joel retreats to the bedroom.
When you step into the bedroom you’re instantly pressed against the door, slamming it shut. Joel’s sneaky hands lock it. “You’re playing a dangerous game, darlin.’ Don’t make me bend you over my knee and give you a spanking.”
The thought alone makes you shudder in delight. Wetness instantly seeping into your underwear. You’ve finally succeeded. You have him right where you want him.
With your hands braced on his chest you deliver the final blow. “You sure your knees can take it?”
Disbelief flashes in Joel’s eyes, “That’s it!”
Grabbing your arms Joel leads you to the bed where he sits on the edge. He roughly pull down on your jeans, panties and all, leaving them pooled on your knees, limiting your mobility.
With another tug he lays you face down on his lap, holding your wrists behind you in a tight grip. Joel shakes his head at your upturned ass that’s waiting a little too eagerly for his touch.
Delight bubbles out of you and Joel is determined to take you down a notch or two. Let’s see how you handle this after fucking with him all damn day.
The first swat comes without warning, eliciting a gasp from you. It’s sharp and borderline painful. A red handprint magically appearing on your left butt cheek.
Joel massages and paws at the skin, getting ready to deliver another one. “Cat got your tongue?” He questions at your sudden silence.
You try to look over your shoulder and say, “Is that all you got?”
A sarcastic chuckle leaves Joel’s mouth. Then, three fast slaps are delivered, successfully earning him a whine from your pretty lips. He rubs on the sweltering flesh, easing some of the sting.
Finding their way to your thighs his fingers dig between them to cup your pussy. It’s no surprise that it’s warm, messy and slick. Clear strands extending from it to the inside of your thighs and covering his digits.
You’re a fucking vixen who loves to torture him for your own fucking pleasure and he’s the damn fool who falls for it each and every time.
“Touch me,” you huff, wiggling on his lap to grind on his hand, hoping to gain more contact with his coated digits.
“Touch you? Oh, darlin’ you’re not getting off the hook so easily,” Joel mentions darkly, retrieving his hand and landing yet another smack to your ass, making it ripple from the impact.
“Ow!” You flinch yet remain in the same position, expecting more. You fucking love when Joel gets rough with you. It’s a shame you have to gauge it out of him like this.
“Wasn’t this what you wanted? Hm?” Joel’s asks and when he doesn’t get a response his hand flies down once more. “What was it you called me?”
There’s a beat of silence before his hand strikes, this time aiming towards the middle. “Gra-grandpa,” you stutter at the small burst of pleasure.
“Mhm, what else darlin’?” He prompts again. His middle finger tracing the slit of your pussy, feeling you grow impossibly wetter. His pretty little wife is always so reactive to his touch.
“Old man.”
The stinging in your skin grows warmer, no doubt turning a considerable shade of cherry red. Yet the ache in your cunt obscures it all. The scraps of attention only makes your arousal worse.
“I think there was one more,” Joel hums, urging you on. His slick finger teasing your weeping entrance.
“P-peepaw,” you gasp when Joel pushes it in until his knuckle meets your delicate skin.
“That’s right, peepaw,” Joel repeats absentmindedly, pushing his middle finger in and out. Listening intently to the squishing sound your pussy makes.
He’ll have you calling him something else by the end of the night.
Tight walls grip his finger like a vice, refusing to let go. Soft puffs of air tumble out of your mouth and he knows your eyes are closed as you concentrate on the minimal pleasure he’s providing you with. It’ll never be enough to make you cum but it’ll keep you bothered.
“Get up,” Joel orders with a softer smack to your bottom, wiping his slick covered finger on your skin. He helps you up from the restrained position he kept you in and makes work of taking off your clothes.
Joel pulls and tugs on your shirt roughly, throwing it mindlessly across the room. He palms your tits briefly, pinching one of your nipples to make you whine his name. With cracking knees he kneels on the floor to help you out your jeans and underwear, kneading your thighs with his big strong hands.
He catches a glance of your reddening skin and feels a prickle of pride at the mark he left. Most of it will fade by morning but you’ll feel it nonetheless.
Sitting back on the edge of the bed he wordlessly motions you to get on your knees. A wicked smile spreads on your cheeks as you do as you’re told, kneeling between his spread legs.
Eager hands grasp his belt, undoing the worn leather to get to the button of his jeans. He provides no help, leaning back on his hands and simply watching you with hooded and expecting eyes.
You pull down on his jeans and underwear, revealing the happy trail that comes down his navel to the patch of brown at his pelvis.
His hard cock springs free once you’ve worked his pants down enough. A throaty groan coming from above you at the release of tension.
“Mmm,” you hum, grasping his length in your fist. His eyes meet yours when you look up to press a kiss to the tip, your hand pulling the thin skin back to reveal it.
“Stop with the teasin,’” Joel growls audibly, chastising you.
You rolls your eyes obnoxiosuly, “You’re no fun, g-“
A hand flies to your hair, gripping the roots tightly. Your eyes fly open, starting up at Joel. “You sure you want to finish that sentence, babygirl?”
“Maybe not,” you shrug with a pout, your hand mindlessly pumping his length.
“That’s what I thought.” Joel keeps his grip on your hair, pulling it back to see every detail of you taking his cock into your pretty mouth.
Your tongue goes flat against the underside of his shaft, tracing the vein that runs along his length and letting saliva drip all down and into your fisted hand. Joel watches intently as your lips wrap around the angry red tip of his cock.
You start off slow taking more of his length with each bob of your head. Your eyes never leaves his face, observing every small reaction he makes. The sharp intake of breath when your tongue grazes his tip, the furrowing of his eyebrows, the bobbing of his adam’s apple as he fails to keep his moans in.
The sudden jerk of Joel’s hips causes your eyes to water and screw shut. The initial intrusion of his cockhead unexpected yet welcome. Joel throws his head back, “That’s a fucking good girl.”
Those magic words make everything worth it as you messily continue to suck and lick every inch of his cock. Neither the tears in the corner of your eyes nor the saliva dripping down his length stop you from tasting him.
You swear you’re dripping on the floor as your pussy flutters at his pleased words. You could touch yourself but all your energy and attention goes to pleasing the man above you.
The pain of kneeling hard wood floor for an extended period of time doesn’t bother you and the ache on your jaw is barely noticeable because all your concentration is on Joel and making him feel good.
Joel continues to set the pace, his grip tight on your scalp. “Fuck, just like that,” he moans when you tease the crown of his cock expertly.
“Alright, that’s enough,” Joel’s voice lilts in a reprimanding voice.
A string of saliva connects you to the tip of him as your hand continuing to work on the rest of his length.
Joel takes note of your red rimmed eyes and flushed nose as well as in your swollen lips and moussed hair. The picture of you completely filthy and sexy.
Joel cups the back of your neck, bringing you up to his height. He brings you into a sloppy kiss consisting of teeth and tongue and saliva. Joel loves that can taste himself in your mouth. A job well done.
You straddle his lap so his cock grazes your dripping pussy, tugging needily at his tshirt. “Take it off,” you beg. Your lips separate for a brief second as the shirt comes off before they smash back together.
He complies but quickly reminds himself that this all started because you were calling him old. He can’t be quick to reward you.
You foolishly believe that’s it and you get to have him. Eagerly you try to sink into his cock but he holds you still, not letting you take him to the hilt.
“Who’s the tease now?” You pant against his lips, stealing another long kiss before whispering in his ear begging him to take you, to use you.
“I like to see you begging for it.” That’s Joel’s response as he pushes you off of him.
You protest but fall silent when he removes his remaining clothes. God you’re like a teenager desperate to fuck with clothes and all.
It drives Joel nuts the way you look at him with lust filled eyes. You bite your lip as you take him in all his glory, hands reaching to touch his chest.
He pulls you back to him, his cock wedged between the two of you. The saliva covering it, sticking to your skin. He cups your face, “You have something to say?”
“Nope.”
Joel to cos his head in disappointment, pushing you into bed and maneuvering you till your head is buried in the pillows and your ass is high in the air. It’s tinged a dozen shades of pink and red from his hands.
You wiggle your hips offering yourself to him. Air hits your pussy, giving you an idea of how aroused you are. That’s what happens whenever you have the pleasure of going down in Joel.
Joel grips himself, spreading his pre before pumping his hand. Smack. His hand flies down to strike your ass once more. Your back arches when Joel teases your entrance with the tip. He runs it up and down your slit, wetting it with your slick. He lightly pushes into you so only the tip is inside before he pulls out again.
“Please fuck me,” you plead breathlessly, attempting to rock back to get more of him inside you.
Joel laughs. “Now you’re nice and polite. Is there something else you want to tell me?” He asks expecting an apology.
“No,” you repeat stubbornly.
He’ll get you soon enough. There’s no way you’ll resist.
Joel’s cock brushes against your clit, making you jump and moan. He does it again and again. Your pussy clenches desperately wanting him inside of you.
“You sure? You don’t want to apologize?” He gives you another chance. Sinking his cock deeper into you to give you a taste before he pulls out.
You huff and pout but you can’t take it anymore. You need him. “I’m sorry!”
“Now, was that so hard,” Joel grunts, pushing his length all the way in, rewarding you.
You bury your head into the pillow, stifling the guttural moan that rips from your throat. You could die like this suffocated and blissfully impaled on Joel’s cock and be happy.
With a tight grip on your waist Joel fucks into you at his own pace, watching how easily you accept him, covering him with your essence. It feels fucking fantastic.
His skin slaps against yours rhythmically. You swear you can cum at that moment but Joel knows all your tells and he slows his pace, pushing into you only when the tip remains. Long, slow strokes keeping you from cumming.
“I wanna cum,” you cry out frustrated but he ignores you, edging you.
“If you want to cum tonight you have to stop calling me old,” Joel grits. This is torture for him as much as it is for you.
“I said I’m sorry,” you sob into the pillow, your back arching as you try and take matters into your own hands. Smack, another spank, warning you to stop.
“Will you stop calling me grandpa?”
You have the audacity to fucking hesitate. He’s serious about not letting you cum but he’s confident he’ll get you to cave in.
Joel pulls out his cock when you refuse to answer. He instantly misses the warmth and tightness of your walls. His cock is soaked with your slick, a creamy white substance covering him from root to tip.
Licking his middle and ring fingers he replaces his cock, feeling your walls clench around them. He pumps them angling them downward to reach that spot inside of you, his other hand pressing on your lower back so you arch more.
“Oh fuck,” you gasp when this thumb presses on your bud. An orgasm quickly building. “Please Joel.” You wanted to cum around his cock not his fingers but at this point you’ll take anything you can get. Your mind is completely clouded and years for release.
“Did you reconsider what you wanted to call me?” Joel curves his fingers, quickening the pace.
“Yes,” you whine as your hips grind against his hand.
“And what’s that?” His fingers are sticky, your essence dripping down his hand.
“Please, daddy,” you cry abashedly, hiding your reddening face in the pillows.
“I didn’t hear ya’ darlin’. How about you look at me when you speak?” Joel dares to say while his fingers continue to drive into you.
Fuck, your legs are shaking and the knot continues to tighten in your belly. You have to say it or Joel will stop. You turn your head to meet his eyes, “Please, daddy.”
“That’s more like it,” Joel’s raspy voice says, removing his fingers when you’re at the cusp once more.
You audibly groan in frustration but it’s interrupted when Joel eases his cock back into you Fucking you just as you want it, hard and fast.
The bed sheets are fisted in your hands as you hold on. Your nipples brushing against the bed with each thrust. It doesn’t take long at all for you both to titer over the edge. Your pussy squeezing tightly around him, milking him for all he’s worth.
When Joel pulls out you fall to lie on your stomach, catching your breath. He lies beside you doing the same. Sharing a glance you both start laughing.
“Next time you want it rough just tell me,” Joel shakes his head at you. He knew all along and yet it still pissed him off.
“It’s not the same, honey,” you sigh, kissing his shoulder. The nearest part of him you can reach without moving too much.
The following morning you wake up with a kink in your back and Joel being the ever loving husband brings you painkillers to bed where you’re lying still, “Take these grandma. They’ll make you feel better.”
He won’t ever call you ‘grandma’ again. The daggers you sent him were fucking terrifying.
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listen...typically i'm not the biggest fan of the daddy kink...but when it works, it works
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luveline · 1 day
Note
jade!! can we please get something with junie’s mom and eddie? <3 missing them today
thank you for requesting! 1.3k
Eddie met you two weeks after you moved into the park, he’s pretty sure. Your baby ran out down the road because you didn’t know that all the trailers have the same bum lock, and she ended up on the Munson porch trying to get back home. 
He still remembers how she could barely talk. He had no idea how quickly babies explode with words. 
“Love you.” Junie smiles up at him, her waiting for a reciprocation all the more impressive. She’s just turned three, and Eddie would argue she doesn’t look it. She’s still a baby in his head. 
“I love you,” he says, leaning down to tap their noses together. 
“Can I have a hug?” 
Just a few short months ago she would’ve shouted “Hug!” and dove into his neck, or said nothing at all. He doesn’t see why that should change. 
“Babe, you don’t have to ask,” he says, wrapping his arms around her. 
She sighs in contentment, relaxing under his hand where he pulls it up and down her back. She’s getting bigger. Eddie can’t believe she’s already three. Where the hell does the time go? Days, weeks slip away. 
But at least they’re with you. God, he can’t believe they’re with you. 
“I’m feeling left out,” you say, laying on the floor of the trailer with your hands held over your chest. You’d been colouring with June a half hour ago, but she got bored fast and left you there. You’ve yet to get up. 
Eddie twists June in his lap so she can see you. He hugs her, and he presses his face to the top of her head, one eye open to see you and the other screwed closed. “You want us to come over?” he asks. 
You think about it. “No. I’m too tired to hug.” 
You’re always tired. Eddie knows that there’s a life he could give you one day where you don’t have to work. He’s not sure you’d let him, but he’d like to get promoted and move you out. He’d like to ask you properly to be his forever, to be permanent, and to live together as a family. Wayne’s telling him not to rush into things, but he really didn’t. You and Eddie were friends for half a year before he finally couldn’t take it anymore, and he doesn’t see that time as wasted, but he knows now that getting to kiss you is something he missed out on. 
Plus, being your boyfriend means he’s actually allowed to take care of you without dousing you in shame. You like being looked after. It’s why Eddie works a ten hour shift and comes straight home to you, so he can fold your laundry and you can get some rest. 
Every time you yawn, it’s a reminder for Eddie that he’s not making your life as easy as he could. (It’s not a healthy way to think about it. It’s not your fault or his that life is hard. But he thinks about it anyway.) 
Eddie gives June a kiss behind the ear and sets her down in the corner of the couch. He grins at her as he does, hoping for a detachment without tears, popping his head into his hand in mock nonchalance. “Babe, I’m gonna go hug your mom back to life. I’ll be right back. Cool?” 
“Cool.” 
Eddie pats her knee and she sits back to watch as he drops to the floor on his knees, crawling around crayons and gel pens and markers to your side. You laugh, flinching as his hand lands on your stomach, but he’s not there to tickle you. He holds your face in the other hand, really holds it, bending time. The mental snapshot he takes of you tired and lovely regardless can join an endless gallery. 
“You’re beautiful,” he says. 
“So are you.” 
“You want some help getting up?” he asks. 
You nod your affirmation. Eddie slides his hands under your arms, murmurs a too tender, “I got you,” as you sit up. He stands and pulls you with him, half drags your tired limbs to the couch where your girl is still sitting patiently. 
He puts you down. Kisses your cheek, throws a blanket across your knees. He picks Junie up to sit where she’d been in the corner and promptly settles with her on his thigh, the other arm open. 
“We’re napping?” Junie asks. 
“Would that be okay?” Eddie asks. “Mom’s tired.” 
“I’m not tired,” Junie says. 
“I know, baby, me neither. I was thinking we’d just lay here and hug mommy for a while, and then we’d have lunch.” 
“I don’t need a nap,” you say, though your eyes are heavy, darting to the empty place in his arms carved out especially for you. 
“Then just hug me,” Eddie whispers. Commanding, disbelieving, he knows you’ll be dozing in five minutes or less. All you need is a little light goading. 
You lay against his side. Junie wiggles to be on her front, chest to chest with Eddie as he sinks down. He kicks up his legs beside you, the three of you collapsing inward, his favourite girls in the world. 
There’s argument on if you can choose your family or not. Eddie doesn’t remember choosing you, just suddenly knowing you, and ever so slowly loving. He loves your face, your arms, the way you breathe. He loves how you turn into his chest and how you seem thrilled to be there, your hand coasting a loving line across him, fingers pressing into his stomach. It’s like you’re waving on his skin. He has no idea where you learned how to touch someone with that much love, but he leans down to kiss the skin just shy of your hairline so you know he feels it. 
Junie’s all little legs and sweetness as she yawns on his shoulder. “Mom, can I have some… some blanky?”
You pull it off your legs to cover hers. Eddie squares it up. Everyone covered, he lets his head tip back against the couch.
He’s not tired. He doesn’t think he’ll sleep. You fall asleep first in a slow series of exhales he knows well, that deepening, your fingers growing still against his t-shirt. 
Junie goes second. She squirms at first, not wanting to give in, but Eddie’s getting better at his dad-pats. He finds the space on her lower back, her off button ever since he’s known her, and he taps his hand against it until she’s breathing heavily against his neck. 
“Eddie?” she asks tiredly. 
“What, rockstar?” 
“Goodnight.” 
He scratches her back lightly. “Goodnight, sweetheart. Do you need me to take you to bed?” 
“No. We can sleep on you.” 
“Who should I sleep on?” he whispers. 
She shakes her head. Unhappy with his question, or maybe her nose is itchy. She falls asleep with her face pressed to his chest a few seconds later, leaving Eddie awake and unsure of what to do now. He trapped himself. 
He can’t find it in himself to mind, worried first about boredom, and then struck with a realisation. How could he ever be bored with you under his arm? 
He has time now to trace your nose, count your eyelashes, whatever he likes. 
“Love you,” he says, pressing his nose to your head. 
It takes a few seconds. “Love you,” you murmur. 
He rubs your arm until you’re sleeping again. It was selfish of him to wake you, but he’d wanted to hear it.
410 notes · View notes
maplesyrupsainz · 18 hours
Text
˖⁺。˚⋆˙talk soon! | PG10˖⁺。˚⋆˙
pairing: pierre gasly x leclerc!reader y/n (she/her)
genre: social media au
warnings: jus fluff, play fighting, ignore any & all dates
summary: in which your brothers (especially one in particular) think they have a stake in your dating life
a/n: i loveee leclerc!reader fanfics & protective brothers so this is a smash for me
request!!!: a smau where reader is charles sister and he discovers she is dating pierre from paparazzi photos and he goes fully protective older brother mode but in the end he is happy for them
my masterlist
fc: various brunettes from pinterest
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instagram ->
ynleclerc
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liked by arthur_leclerc, alexandrasaintmleux, and others
ynleclerc hiiiiii
view all comments
user1 hiii y/n
user2 hi y/n we miss you!
liked by ynleclerc
user3 the second pic ! ! ! !
user4 stop soft launching we wanna know who it is now xx
charles_leclerc you & me both...
user5 CHARLES?!
alexandrasaintmleux y/n! i miss you please let's do lunch soon
ynleclerc im there 🥹🫶
user6 soso cute
yourbff my beauty
ynleclerc love you
lilymhe ur too good at being cool
ynleclerc want some lessons? (im just desperate to hang out with you)
lilymhe please! (me too i miss you)
user7 WAG BFFSSSS
user8 y/n is so cool i wish i was her
arthur_leclerc where even are you right now
ynleclerc only paris
twitter ->
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messages ->
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instagram ->
f1gossip
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liked by arthur_leclerc, user6, user44, and others
f1gossip pierre gasly spotted in public with y/n leclerc for the second time this week at the french open... is it just me or do they look pretty cosy together?
view all comments
user14 they're cute but im scared
user15 arthur in the likes loooool
user16 Y/N HIDE!!!!
user17 PIERRE HIDE
user18 omg they're so cute
user19 they dont gaf about hiding 🙈
charles_leclerc Y/N TEXT ME BACK
arthur_leclerc this isnt her post cha
charles_leclerc @.ynleclerc text me back.
ynleclerc 😊
user20 HAHAHAHA
user21 free her omg
user22 i hope at least arthur will protect y/n 🫡
arthur_leclerc nah im staying out of this one.....
user23 ARTHUR!! HELP OUR GIRL
arthur_leclerc she did this to herself unfortunately
ynleclerc my phone is staying on sleep mode & we're fleeing the country as i type this
charles_leclerc y/n where are you i just arrived in paris
ynleclerc 🫡 goodbye all
user24 screaming
user25 not all this on an f1 gossip page HAHAH
messages ->
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instagram ->
pierregasly posted a story
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liked by ynleclerc, alexandrasaintmleux, and others
arthur_leclerc oh this is bold
pierregasly scared for my life lowkey
user26 oh u guys r too cute together
user27 wish i could see ur dms rn
user28 i wouldnt wish to be u guys rn 😭😭
alexandrasaintmleux just for the record, i support you guys 🫶
pierregasly needed to hear this, thanks
user29 she looks soo happy
user30 obsessed with u guys together actually
lorenzotl sorry about charles
pierregasly 👍
charles_leclerc count your days, gasly
ynleclerc 📍 valencia
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liked by lorenzotl, arthur_leclerc, and others
ynleclerc holiday, continued
view all comments
user31 ugh she's living my dream
user32 hard launch?
user33 oh her brother's are gonna love this 😂
user34 charles hasnt even liked
alexandrasaintmleux u with the kitty 🐈 wouldn't expect any less
liked by ynleclerc
user35 obsessed w alexandra ignoring her bf's drama
lorenzotl hope you're enjoying 🏝️
ynleclerc the peace & quiet? absolutely
lorenzotl come home soon please
ynleclerc 🤔
user36 hahaha he's begging
user37 i jus know charles is insufferable rn
arthur_leclerc cue charles in 3, 2, 1...
liked by ynleclerc, pierregasly
charles_leclerc lovely! now call me back
charles_leclerc if you have time to instagram you can text me back!!!
charles_leclerc y/n?
ynleclerc dont worry cha, im safe 🫶
charles_leclerc proof please.
user38 wait why is this kinda cute...
pierregasly ❤️
liked by ynleclerc
charles_leclerc STAY AWAY FROM HER
user39 ...nvm
pierregasly 📍 brussels
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liked by yukitsunoda0511, ynleclerc, and others
pierregasly what the lady wants, the lady most certainly gets
view all comments
user40 the third pic omg
user41 charles is not going to be happy.....
user42 SHE LOOKS SO HOT THO
yukitsunoda0511 very bold
pierregasly too bold?
yukistunoda0511 i'll let charles be the decider of that...
flavy.barla oh y/n is so beautiful <3
pierregasly i know right?
ynleclerc oh im blushing now 🤭
user43 oh to be y/n
user44 giggling at this post & im not even y/n
user45 same omg even jus the caption ...
user46 this is soo pinterest mood board
yourbff holiday goals (gf goals)
liked by pierregasly, ynleclerc
landonorris 👀
ynleclerc THIS IS NOT FOR YOUR EYES
landonorris 👀
pierregasly lando, no.
landonorris 👀
ynleclerc im calling charles
landonorris WAIT NO
lorenzotl oh no
arthur_leclerc run, hide, take cover, etc. etc.
charles_leclerc what the
charles_leclerc WHAT IS THIS
messages ->
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instagram ->
alexandrasaintmleux posted a story
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liked by pierregasly, ynleclerc, and others
user47 sooo cute
user48 favs omg i love their friendship
user49 is y/n back in monaco!! 👀
user50 & where is charles hahah
arthur_leclerc is y/n home and hanging out with you first?
alexandrasaintmleux ...no comment
arthur_leclerc oh charles is gonna be happy 😃
charles_leclerc ????
alexandrasaintmleux salut mon amour 🥰
charles_leclerc return my sister to me please
alexandrasaintmleux oui oui she's coming home 🫣
messages ->
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instagram ->
ynleclerc 📍 monte carlo
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liked by pierregasly, charles_leclerc, and others
ynleclerc balance has been restored ✨
view all comments
user51 the second pic ahahahah are they being held hostage
ynleclerc you cant see her but alex is off camera with a gun
user52 omg y/n 😭😭😭
yukitsunoda0511 so no more comment section arguing? 🤨
ynleclerc this i can't guarantee unfortunately
yukitsunoda0511 oh dont worry, we all love the drama
ynleclerc 🤨
user53 HAHAH one of us one of us
user54 i actually love them together
user55 TOO CUTE
user56 forever a ferrari girl omg🥹🥹🥹
liked by ynleclerc, charles_leclerc
alexandrasaintmleux finally 💞
ynleclerc you're telling me !!!
user57 sisters in law🥹🫶✨
arthur_leclerc disappointed. i love when you & charles are arguing
ynleclerc pot stirrer.
charles_leclerc very mature of you art.
user58 hahah how often do they argue omg
charles_leclerc i guess ur still my favourite sister
ynleclerc im ur only sister
charles_leclerc so?
ynleclerc i should always be ur favourite sister
charles_leclerc well sometimes you arent
lorenzotl ENOUGH PLEASEE!!!!
user58 HAHAH arguing again omg
user59 the most sibling siblings i've ever seen
pierregasly love you & your (crazy) family 🩷
ynleclerc love you for accepting me & all my baggage 🫣🫶
THE END 🩷
343 notes · View notes
ginkgooou · 2 days
Text
dance lessons | alexia putellas
summary: you and alexia try dancing.
this one took a while; i rewrote it like three times before i was finally happy with it. i'm no expert in dancing, but i tried my best to describe the moves. i hope you enjoy! feel free to send feedback or requests. 😄
english is not my first language.
4,272 words
— — — — — — — — — — — — — — —
you were out with alba, leisurely strolling through the city, when you came across two people handing out flyers. as you were about to walk past, one of them stepped forward, stopping you with a friendly smile.
“hey, do you two want to try a dance class?”, the woman asked you, offering you a flyer.
alba just shook her head. “no, thank you.”
you stopped, intrigued, taking the flyer from her hand and looking over it. it seemed like a fun idea, something you could do with alexia - an opportunity to try something new together.
as you skimmed the paper, the lady explained, “we teach ballroom and latin dances. it's for beginners, so anyone can join. you can sign up online if you're interested. the website's on the flyer.”
you nodded thoughtfully, looking up at her with a small smile. “thank you. i'll think about it.”
with that, you turned to alba, who linked her arm with yours as you walked away. she gave you a knowing look. “you sure ale will do it with you?”
with a smirk, you replied, “i have my ways.”
well, your way was simply signing both you and alexia up for the course without telling her. after three years together, you knew your girlfriend very well and you knew if you'd asked her, she would've immediately said no.
alexia loved her routines, finding comfort in the structure of her days. they gave her a sense of control in a world that often felt too chaotic.
you understood that and respected it, but every now and then, you'd try to pull her out of her comfort zone a little. a new restaurant, an unexpected detour through the city or, when time allowed, a spontaneous road trip - just small things. it was always a struggle to get her to agree to your ideas. alexia could be very stubborn, but you always found a way to persuade her.
you knew that this time would be particularly difficult as it wasn't a one-time thing like usual; the dance course would last over several weeks. you could already picture your girlfriend's grumpy face, insisting she didn't want to go, claiming that she had football and no time for something like this.
but, you'd already made a plan.
first, you decided that instead of ordering in, you'd make dinner. you settled on cooking pasta with the homemade sauce that she liked so much, hoping it would put her in a good mood.
you had just started on the sauce when you heard the soft click of the front door echoing through the apartment. it was quickly followed by the muffled sound of footsteps and the soft thud of alexia's bag being dropped on the floor.
a few moments later, you felt your girlfriend's strong arms wrap around your waist, her familiar warmth bringing a smile to your face. she placed a gentle kiss on your shoulder before resting her head there with a soft sigh.
“hola, mi amor. i missed you.”, she mumbled, her voice tinged with fatigue.
turning your head slightly, you gave her a quick peck on her lips, whispering, “missed you too. how was training?”
“good. lots of things to work on.”, she replied.
as you continued making the sauce, alexia stayed wrapped around you, watching you cook. “ale?”, you said gently.
she hummed in response, letting you know she was listening.
“why don't you go shower? dinner will be ready soon.”
alexia just pressed herself closer, burying her head in your neck, making you chuckle at her clinginess. “baby, come on.”
“vale.”, your girlfriend grumbled, clearly reluctant to let go. with a sigh, she finally released her hold on you and headed upstairs.
while she showered, you finished preparing dinner and began setting the table. you were just plating the food, when you heard alexia coming back downstairs.
you looked up to see your girlfriend padding into the kitchen, her wet hair falling over her shoulders, wearing a hoodie and sweatpants.
“it smells amazing, amor.”, she said, coming over and kissing your cheek. you smiled at her, turning back to the plates. “go sit down. i'll be right over.”
alexia nodded and made her way to the table, taking a seat and pouring two glasses of water.
once you finished plating, you walked over, setting the dishes on the table before sitting down beside her.
both of you eagerly dug in, conversation flowing effortlessly throughout the meal. between bites, alexia recounted her day, telling you about the intense drills, funny moments with her teammates and the interview she had to do while also asking about your day.
once you finished dinner, the conversation and you watched as the tension slowly melted away from her shoulders. her tone became lighter and more relaxed. you knew this was the perfect moment to bring up the dance class.
you glanced at her with a smile. “oh, i forgot to tell you! i was out with alba today. we went for lunch and then just wandered around.”, you began casually. “funny story, actually - we walked past some people handing out flyers.”, you continued, chuckling nervously as you watched your girlfriend closely.
alexia eyed you with suspicion. “what did you do?”, she asked, raising an eyebrow.
“well.”, you started, clearing your throat, “they were promoting their dance classes. i checked out the website - it looks really cool and professional.” you paused, grinning excitedly at alexia, “so, i signed us up for the course! it starts on monday.”
“no.”, your girlfriend said immediately, shaking her head. “no, no, no. we are not doing that.” you laughed at her instant refusal, expecting nothing less.
“come on, ale. it'll be fun.”, you urged, trying to convince her.
“no! i don't have time. i have football.”, alexia argued, crossing her arms defiantly. “sorry, amor, but it's just not happening.”
you sighed, giving her your best puppy dog eyes. “please? for me?”
your girlfriend quickly looked away, knowing she would crumble if she looked at you much longer. “..no.”, she repeated, but her voice lacked the firmness it had before.
sensing she just needed one more little push, you proceeded with part two of your plan.
you scooted back and stood up, alexia's eyes following you as you moved to straddle her lap, your arms wrapping around her shoulders while hers instinctively fell to your hips. she slightly leaned back in her chair, making room for you.
you slowly leaned in, lips nearly touching. “please?”, you asked again, your lips brushing hers.
you could see alexia's resolve wavering and you knew you almost had her. closing the distance between you, you pressed your lips softly against hers. when you pulled away, your girlfriend chased your lips, clearly not ready for the kiss to end yet.
“for me, baby?”, you asked again, a smile forming on your lips.
alexia opened her eyes, gazing up at you. after a few seconds of silence, she sighed dramatically. “i hate you.”
your grin only widened. “so you'll go with me?”
“yes.”, she grumbled, rolling her eyes. “but i don't like it.”
“thank you, thank you, thank you!”, you squealed, showering her face with kisses. your girlfriend tried to keep a straight face, but she couldn't suppress the wide smile spreading on her lips.
it was monday evening, just before 6 pm, and the dance studio was filled with people. you stood near the back, surrounded by couples who were much older than you, their chatter filling the air. shifting nervously, you glanced at the door for what felt like the hundredth time.
alexia was late.
you two had agreed to come here separately, since your girlfriend had a late interview. she had assured you she would make it, but as the clock crept closer to 6, doubt started to creep in.
when it was time for the lesson to start, the two instructors, a woman with a warm smile and a tall man with black hair, stepped forward.
“hello everyone and welcome to the course! i'm isabella and this is my partner, luis.”, the woman said enthusiastically, her voice carrying across the room. “over the next few weeks, we'll be teaching you how to dance.”
you were trying to listen, but your thoughts kept wandering to alexia. as isabella started to explain a bit more about the class, the door suddenly swung open. your girlfriend burst through, slightly out of breath, still wearing her training kit.
“lo siento!”, she called out, blushing as she realized that everyone was looking at her. for a second, she scanned the room, her gaze darting past the curious looks before landing on you.
a small smile tugged at the corner of your lips as your girlfriend hurried over, weaving through the people. when she reached you, she leaned in for a quick kiss. “i'm sorry.”, she whispered apologetically. “i didn't mean to be this late. the interview took longer than expected.”
you smiled at her, shaking your head. “it's fine. you're here now.”
alexia sighed, running a hand through her hair as she looked around, clearly feeling out of place in her kit. “i didn't have time to change.”, she muttered, tugging at the hem of her shirt.
“don't worry about it.”, you said softly, taking her hand and giving it a reassuring squeeze.
someone clearing their throat beside you interrupted your whispering. you turned to see an older man giving you both a disapproving look. “could you stop talking? we're trying to listen.”, he said, sounding annoyed.
“sorry, we'll stop.”, you quickly apologized, flashing him a polite smile.
though, when you turned to your girlfriend and your eyes met hers, you let out a giggle. alexia couldn't suppress a grin, quietly shushing you and gesturing to the front.
you tuned back in just in time to catch isabella's last words. "so, our first dance will be a slow waltz," she began with a smile. "but before we begin, let's go over the hold."
she turned to luis, who took her hand in his as they stepped into position. he placed his right hand gently on isabella’s shoulder blade, while she rested her left hand on his upper arm. their free hands met between them. “the lead,” he explained, “places his right hand on the follow’s back, just here, and the follow’s left hand goes on the lead’s arm. your other hands meet, like so.” they turned in a circle so everyone could see clearly. they invited you to try it out, moving through the room and giving tips when needed.
“okay! now to the box step. it is really simple.”, isabella said. “the lead steps forward with their left foot. the follow steps back with their right.”
on cue, they moved, their feet sweeping across the floor in perfect synchronization. “step forward,” luis said, narrating his movement, “then side with the right foot, and bring your left foot to your right. then, you’ll step back with the right foot, side with the left, and close the feet again. that completes the box.”
you shifted your weight slightly, looking at alexia, who was staring at the instructors as if this dance was a tactical briefing before a big match. her brow was furrowed in concentration, which made you grin.
after they had showed you the movement a few more times, isabella smiled encouragingly at the class. “now, it’s time for you to try. we’ll walk around and help you.”
you turned to alexia, a playful glint in your eye. “so,” you began, raising an eyebrow, “who’s going to lead?”
your girlfriend chuckled, moving closer with a confident grin. “me, of course.” she tried to get into position, placing her hand on your shoulder blade, but you stepped back, not ready to give up just yet.
“but what if i want to lead?”, you asked hopefully. alexia shook her head. “no, i lead. no arguments.”
you huffed, pouting slightly as you mumbled, “so not fair.”
with a sigh, you finally let her step closer and take hold of you while you rested your hand on her upper arm. you could feel the warmth of her hand against your back, and despite your earlier protest, an excited smile crept on your face. “well, then. lead the way, capitana.”, you told her, laughing as she shot you an annoyed look at the nickname.
as it came to trying the steps, you could feel alexia’s earlier confidence beginning to waver slightly. she bit her lip, glancing down at her feet, and then stepped forward with her left. you weren’t ready yet and stumbled a little as you quickly tried to follow her lead and move backward, but you couldn’t hold your balance and accidentally stepped on her toes.
“oops, sorry!”, you blurted out, pulling back.
alexia just shook her head, a hint of embarrassment coloring her cheeks. “no, it was my fault.”, she said, taking a deep breath and exhaling slowly. “okay. let’s try again.”
you both repositioned yourselves and tried again. this time, you were ready and as she took a step forward, you moved back with your right foot, staying in the rhythm. alexia was incredibly focused, her brows furrowed in concentration.
“forward, side, close.”, she murmured to herself, following the steps. the determination in her eyes made you smile, but you could also feel the tension in her body. “hey, ale.”, you said softly, catching her attention. when she looked up at you, you continued, “try to relax. this is just for fun.”
your girlfriend took a deep breath, trying to let go of the pressure. “you’re right. just for fun.”, she replied, smiling at you.
after a few minutes, isabella made her way over to you. “good! that’s good.”, she praised, offering a warm smile. “but try not to look down at your feet. keep your eyes on each other or look over the left shoulder.” she gestured for you to step closer together. “you can also move closer together. it will help you feel the movements and make it easier to follow the lead.”
you and alexia nodded, moving closer, and got back into position. your eyes met and a soft smile passed between you. when alexia stepped forward this time, you could feel the shift in her weight, making it easier to anticipate her next move. the closeness made everything smoother, as if you were more in tune with each other.
“that's much better!”, isabella remarked before moving on to help the next couple.
after the first successful attempt, you tried the box step again. but it was alexia who faltered this time, accidentally stepping on your toes. “i'm so sorry.”, she muttered, her cheeks flushing as her gaze shifted over your shoulder, embarrassed. “it's just…”, she trailed off, meeting your eyes for a brief second before quickly looking down at her feet. “it's hard to concentrate with you so close.”, your girlfriend admitted softly, biting her lip.
you smiled at her confession, finding it incredibly endearing that even after all this time, you still had this effect on her. you couldn't help but press a quick kiss to her cheek. “i love you.”, you told her as you pulled away, catching the soft smile that lit up her face.
alexia's hand pressed gently against your back, drawing you closer, her eyes sparkling with affection. “te quiero.”, she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper, making your heart flutter.
suddenly, luis’ voice cut through, interrupting the moment between you. “alright, now that everyone's practiced the box step, let's learn the turning box.”, he announced, moving to the front of the room. “isabella and i will demonstrate.”
alexia cleared her throat and let go of you, turning her attention to the instructors.
luis took a moment to position himself with isabella. “the lead steps forward with the left foot, but this time, instead of moving straight, you'll turn slightly to the left.”, he began, showcasing the first move.
“as you step to the side with the right foot, your body should turn about 90° to the left.”, he continued, guiding isabella through the movement. “then, step with the left foot next to the right.”
they showed you the turns a few more times, with isabella also guiding you through the follow's role. as the demonstration concluded, luis turned to you all with a smile. “now it's your turn again.”
you and alexia quickly got back into position. “ready?”, your girlfriend asked, looking at you with a soft smile. “yes”, you answered.
you tried it slowly, wanting to get a feel for the added movement. it worked surprisingly well; you barely had to think about it as alexia confidently led you into the turn.
alexia was focused on the steps, murmuring them quietly under her breath. with each turn, you got more comfortable, feeling more confident in your steps.
encouraged by how well it worked, alexia picked up the pace a little and soon, you were gliding across the floor. just as you executed a smooth turn, you suddenly became aware of another couple moving in the opposite direction.
before you could react, you collided with them - your shoulder bumping into the man's side while alexia accidentally stepped on the woman's toes.
“oh no, sorry!”, alexia exclaimed, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment. you, on the other hand, struggled to keep your laughter in as you turned to the couple, who looked just as surprised, but quickly joined you in the laughter. the man shook his head, waving off the mishap with a hrin. “it happens to the best of us.”
once you repositioned yourselves, you began anew, alexia now more aware of her surroundings. but the collision seemed to have made her relax more, smiling slightly while continuing to dance.
when luis approached, he smiled brightly at you. “that's really good!”, he said, nodding with approval. “keep it up!” the praise filled you with confidence and when you looked at alexia, you found her beaming with delight, her eyes sparkling with pride.
after a few more minutes, isabella moved to the sound system and put on music. “now, let's try it with music.”, she said enthusiastically.
as the melody of a slow waltz filled the room, everything changed. the soft notes wrapped around you, making the steps feel more fluid and natural, the rythm guiding your movements. alexia's confidence grew with every turn, leading you through the dance seamlessly.
you spent the remainder of the class learning more about the waltz, with luca and isabella showing you new steps here and there.
as you laid in bed that night, you turned to face her. “so, how did you like the class?”, you asked softly.
alexia shifted slightly, turning her head to meet your gaze in the dark. a small smile tugged at her lips. “i actually liked it.”, she admitted.
you raised an eyebrow, teasing her. “really? that's funny, considering someone didn't want to go at first.”
she chuckled, her hand reaching out to playfully nudge your arm. “yeah, yeah. but, really, it was fun.” her fingers intertwined with yours under the covers.
you grinned, satisfied with her confession. “i told you it would be.”
alexia sighed softly, leaning in to kiss you. “it was only fun because i did it with you.”
you smiled, your heart fluttering at her words. alexia wrapped her arm around your waist and pulled you closer, her warmth lulling you to sleep.
over the next few weeks, you continued going to the dance studio every monday, learning something new each time. throughout the week, you tried to practice as often as you could, but time seemed to always slip away from you.
both of your schedules were packed - alexia busy with training, matches and interviews while you had your own work commitments. it usually ended up with you practicing an hour before having to leave for class. but, despite the lack of practice, you both had improved quite a lot, especially alexia.
you could see your girlfriend's confidence grow with each session, her movements becoming more fluid and graceful. she led you effortlessly through the various dance routines - slow fox, cha-cha and tango - as if she had been dancing for years. she was a natural at this.
at least, that's what it seemed like to you.
one afternoon, you decided to surprise alexia and pick her up from training. you had a free day and since alexia's car was at the mechanic, she needed someone to pick her up.
after parking your car, you made your way over toward the building's entrance. halfway there, the door swung open and the first few girls exited the building. as soon as they spotted you, their faces lit up with excitement, and they rushed over.
“hi! i haven't seen you in sooo long. i've missed you so much.”, claudia said, pulling you into a tight hug.
you smiled warmly, returning the hug. “hey, clau. i missed you, too. work's just been a lot these days.”
after claudia let go, you turned to greet patri and ona with a hug, too. meanwhile, claudia continued talking, “you should visit more often. ale’s so much nicer when you're around.”
you couldn't help but laugh at that, knowing all too well how your girlfriend could get when it came to football. “i'll talk to her.”, you replied with a grin. then, glancing toward the building, you asked, “but speaking of alexia, where is she?”
more players had started to trickle out of the building, but still no sign of your girlfriend. ona was quick to answer your question, “she wanted to do some extra practice. she's still out on the pitch.”
you turned back to the group with a grateful smile. “ah, thank you. i should've known.”, you chuckled. “i guess i'll head in to find her.”
patri grinned, nudging your arm playfully. “you'd better. otherwise, she'll be out there all day.”
you laughed, pulling each of them into a quick hug. “alright, bye guys.”, you said, the three of them echoing your words as you headed toward the building.
inside, you made your way through the familiar hallways, your footsteps quickening as you approached the pitch, the faint sound of voices drifting toward you.
but as you stepped outside, the sight before you made you stop in your tracks.
there was alexia, but instead of practicing football, she was…dancing. and with mapi, of all people. they seemed to be attempting the tango - or at least something that resembled it. your girlfriend was, of course, leading, her movements focused and graceful.
mapi, on the other hand, was clearly less enthusiastic about the whole thing. “why am i doing this? i don't want to do this!”, she complained, barely trying to follow alexia's lead.
your girlfriend, already looking annoyed, sighed in frustration. “you need to be closer. i can't do this if you're standing a mile away from me.”
mapi threw her hands up. “i don't want to be closer, i need my space! i want to be free, not glued to you!”
you stood silently at the edge of the pitch, trying to stifle your laughter as you watched the scene unfold. alexia, determined as always, restarted the routine, but mapi still kept stumbling over the steps. your girlfriend's patience was running thin, the vein on her forehead looking ready to pop.
“come on, mapi. you're not even trying now. is it really so hard to follow a few steps?” her voice rose in frustration. “it's so much easier with ingrid! why do you always have to make everything so difficult!”
“well, i am not ingrid! and i am trying!”, mapi shot back, stamping her foot and refusing to take another step. alexia took a sharp breath, throwing her hands up in exasperation. “dios mio, i've had enough! you are no help.”, she huffed, rolling her eyes. she spun around, ready to storm off the pitch, but then her eyes fell on you.
she froze, looking like a deer caught in headlights. “oh, no.”
you couldn't help the grin that spread across your face as you stepped onto the pitch. “oh, yes.”
alexia blinked, trying to recover. “it's not what it looks like…”
you raised an eyebrow. “it looked like you were trying to dance.”, you teased, coming to a stop in front of her. “so this is what you've been up to?”
alexia blushed, looking everywhere but you, thinking of ways to get out of the situation. “it's just been a few times…”, she mumbled.
but mapi, who clearly had enough, jumped in. “a few times? she's been dragging ingrid into this for weeks! alexia stole my girlfriend - ingrid's always busy with her now. she barely even talks to me at training! and now i had to dance, too.”
you laughed, watching your girlfriend grow more embarrassed by the second. “i see. and you didn't tell me because…?”
alexia ran a hand through her hair, giving you a sheepish smile. “i just… wanted to impress you.”, she murmured quietly.
you chuckled softly, moving closer and cupping her cheek. “you're so silly, my love.”
your girlfriend wrapped her arms around your waist and pulled you closer, pressing a soft kiss to your lips. “i'm sorry?”, she said with a crooked smile.
shaking your head, you leaned in to kiss her again, only to be interrupted by loud gagging coming from mapi. “ugh, can you not? this is torture.”
you both laughed, breaking apart as alexia turned to her best friend. “you're one to talk. and just so you know, i'll never dance with you again.”
at that, mapi began to laugh happily. “thank god!”
— — — — — — — — — — — — — — —
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Text
Walking the Road for Her
Wanda Maximoff x Gray Witch!Reader
Word count: 1.2K
Summary: You can't live without Wanda and you've tried everything else so when Agatha comes knocking on your door you accept immediately, but the teen that's with her...he seems so familiar
Warnings: SPOILERS FOR EPISODE 3 OF AGATHA ALL ALONG! Grief/Loss, hallucinations, death/mortality, emotional distress, supernatural elements, implied self-sacrifice, character death, reunion with a deceased loved one
Authors notes: Thank you @scarlethexelove for indulging in my random Wanda thoughts.
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When Agatha asked for you to walk the witches road, you didn't hesitate. She was put off by your eagerness, but never told her why you were walking. You kept that part to yourself she didn't seem to mind. Everyone had a reason, and everyone had their secrets, so no one asked, and you weren't about to tell them you wanted, no needed Wanda back.
You would give up anything and everything to have Wanda back. If it meant to team up with Agatha, you would do it.
So you did. You met up with her and put on the cheery smile she hated. You always assumed she hated you for being a younger witch still full of life, but since Wanda died, you felt like you died too. You got along well enough with the others. You knew Jen the best being closer in age, though you didn't care for her products.
The teen seemed eerily familiar, but you can't put your finger on it. Why does he remind you of Wanda of a life you can't seem to remember.
You're overly protective of him. You don't let him have the wine, and when you hallucinate from said wine, you blink, and suddenly, you're looking at Wanda. Back in her early twenties with the eyeliner, ripped stockings, painted nails, and rings on every finger. You cry over it, cupping her face until it turns back to his.
“Are you okay.” He looks at you with concern. You pull away quickly and wipe your eyes.
“S-Sorry.” You quickly run the ingredients back, trying to escape the feelings. You need to stay strong. You need to get Wanda back.
You end up getting through the trail. Not without its costs. Losing Sharon wasn't something you had in mind, but the witches road is treacherous and has no place for mortals. You never should have let Agatha do that, but hindsight and all that. You knew you had to press on and on the road Teen asks,
“Are you sure you're okay? You and Sharon called out for the same person.” You swallow hard.
“Yeah I'm fine. We all had hallucinations about things. I'll be okay.” You tell him and then mumble under your breath, “Not like I don't deal with it every morning...” his head swivels.
“What was that?” He asks.
“Nothing, just mumbling to myself.”
The further you journey, the harder it gets. Sometimes, you want to give up, to give in, and join Wanda another way. But something stops you every time. You almost think you can feel her, feel her all around you. In the trees, the air, the leaves beneath your feet. With a quick turn of your head, you think you so the soft auburn color you miss so much. The road is playing tricks yet keeping you grounded to your goals.
You make it to the end. Finally passed the last trial everyone who had made it. Their prize awaited them. You waited, didn't see her, and then you heard a whisper in Sokovian.
Your name.
You looked around everywhere. “Over here milaya.” You hear her call. You whip around and see her. She doesn't look like the Scarlet Witch anymore. Back before that. Like when you were on the run. You run into her arms without a second thought.
You can't help as you cry. Burying your face in her neck as your body shakes with sobs. Her vanilla scent invades your senses. “Shhhh sweet girl, I've got you.” Wanda holds you close. Your heart feels whole again now that you're back in her arms.
Your sobs turn into sniffles. “I've missed you so much.” You mumble against her. Her nails lightly scratching at your back. Something she's always done to sooth you. Kissing the side of your head and letting her lips linger.
“I know Detka. I'm so sorry. I'm here now. I'll never leave you again.”
You held onto Wanda tight, afraid to let go as if she'd disappear again if you stopped.
Wanda opened her eyes, looking past your shoulder her eyes widened in surprise and then softened as she saw him.
“Bi-Billy?” Wanda's voice shakes slightly. You pull back but not fully letting her go. You follow her gaze that lands on the teen. Your brows furrow before you look back to Wanda.
“Wanda?” You question her.
She lets go of you when Teen responds to the name. He tries to say something, but the sigil protects him. A wave of Wanda's hand changes that. “Billy?” She asks again.
“Yes, that's me.” You're really confused as you see Wanda's red tendrils come out sending red waves through his eyes before disappearing. “M-mom? H-how did you...?”
Billy runs towards Wanda, slamming into her, but she doesn't budge. She holds him tightly in her arms. “What kind of mother would I be if I didn't know my own son?” Wanda whispers. It's just loud enough for you to hear. Confusion morphs into realization as you look on.
The reason he looked so familiar, the reason he reminded you of her. Of course, it was one of the twins. Sure you hadn't been a part of the hex, but you had seen the recordings of it. Last you had seen the twins, they were 10 inside the hex.
Your heartbeat quickens when you remember what you had seen next as the hex fell the you Wanda had created was destroyed along with the twins. She had held you tightly until you were no more.
It's a shock to see him in the flesh. To understand who he really is. He pulls away from Wanda and turns to you. “Mama?” He's cautious having been giving the memory from Wanda and realizing that you had never got to meet him. Do you even know who he is? Will you accept him as your own?
Your breath catches. It's like waves of memories flood through you as if they had always been there. Everything from the hex coming to life as tears fill your vision and spill over. “Oh my sweet little boy...look at you!” Your arms wrap around him tightly. It had been there, blurry when you thought about it. Of this being your son. “Mama is sorry you had to go through all of this.”
“Mama don't apologize. I'm happy to have you back.” He pulls away slightly keeping an arm around you and opening his other for Wanda. She joins into the hug.
“I'm happy to have both of you back.” You can feel the tears pricking your eyes.
You hug them both tightly. This still left you without one son, but you knew you'd find him. If Billy made it out somehow, then Tommy must be out there, too.
Wanda cups both of your cheeks and looks between you. “Moya lyubov i moy syn (my love and my son).” Tears in her eyes she can't believe she is back and that she had both of you. Her heart is almost complete, but there is still a missing piece to the puzzle.
You didn't need her powers to know what she was thinking, “We'll find him, milaya.” She smiles at you, giving a soft peck on your lips.
“We will. Now that I have you two I know we will.”
This was more than you could have asked for at the end of the road.
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megamindsecretlair · 3 days
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Hi, beloved! ❤️ Would you be down to write about Terry Richmond using some rope tricks that he learned from his Marine training on reader? 🤭 If not, I completely understand and you’re still amazing !😘
A/N: Forgive me, I know this doesn't technically fit the bill, but this got my mind spinning. Let me know if you want a more faithful response.
Touch Me Like You Care
Pairing: Daddy Dom!Terry Richmond x Sub!Black!Fem!/ Plus Size reader
Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, You are in charge of your own reading experience. Intentional use of AAVE. SMUT. PWP, cursing, PIV, oral (female), fingering (fem receiving), teasing, size kink, dirty talk, mean Terry, daddy kink, praise kink, spanking, lite bondage, overstimulation, reader is able to be picked up, all consensual. Sorry if I missed some, rushing.
Summary: See Ask. Story by @uniqueoutlierblog . Terry comes home to find you reading in bed, all thoughts of getting dressed out of your mind as you rest. He was prepared to let you, truly, but then he finds that you’re not wearing the bracelets he bought you. And well, he can’t let that slide, can he?
Word Count: 4,475k
AO3 Link
A/N: @planetblaque knows I can deny her nothing!! Whew, everytime I think I can take a break from this man, ya'll pop out with all of these amazing fics! I'm so over the moon to see so much activity. We fr just tossing this man around like a beach ball and I love that for us!!! Toss a coin to your blogger by leaving a comment, gif, or unhinged ask.
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You pulled your dresser open and searched for your favorite pair of thigh high socks. Ever since the weather turned, you were back to shivering every two seconds, feeling colder than a witch’s broomstick no matter what you did. 
After a refreshing shower, you opted to dry under your blanket hoodie, feeling the need to retreat from having to be “on” all the time. Navigating the world as a Black woman was fucking exhausting. 
You picked up your phone, scrolling through your latest dirty book. There was a subtle increase in Black led romances that were making you stay up to the wee hours of the morning reading. The latest book was absolutely filthy from your favorite author. The anticipation for this book had been immense, the group chat blowing up with speculations and guesses.
The book was getting better, when the couple who swore they hated each other was about to fuck that tension out since fighting got them nowhere. You squealed, picking up the nearest pair of socks. You tore your gaze away long enough to put your socks on.
You looked around the room for your blanket hoodie. It was sitting on the famous chair, piled on top of a mountain of clothing that was near toppling over. You grabbed the hoodie and then checked in on your phone. 
Oh, the tension. The passion. It just ate you up inside when the characters got to that part. Confessing their love in drunken confessions or in the middle of an argument. Ouee, your body was on fire just thinking about it. Your pussy clenching at the details. The rich words creating a movie in your mind’s eye.
Abandoning your hoodie, you laid across the bed and decided to air dry. With the way this book was going, you might need a second shower. You rested your head on your closed fist and let your mind drift, picturing the scene.
You didn’t hear when your boyfriend called your name after he arrived home. Or how his heavy footfalls padded down the hallway to your bedroom. Or how he called your name again when he stood in the doorway. You didn’t hear the subtle camera click as a picture was taken.
Somewhere between the fifth and…counting?... sex scene, you ended up on your tummy, legs high behind you, tapping your socked feet together. You were literally kicking your feet as the characters kept telling each other that they hated each other as they were clutching onto each other for dear life. 
You sighed. You simply ate this shit up. You were already mentally typing up your notes for your review on Goodreads. Ouee, maybe you should start keeping a side notebook. Just to jot down bullet points so your scatterbrained mind didn’t forget a single detail. 
Fingers reached across your ass and you yelped, looking behind you ready to scream. Terry stood behind you, his head tilted and a smirk on his luscious face. You choked out a laugh, rolling to one side so you could look at him better. 
He looked damn good in gray sweatpants and a white T-shirt. Terry slid his fingers absently across your bare ass, tracing the globes up and down. Your body shivered, pussy clenching with need. You gazed at your man. At the smooth planes and lines of his face, the cut of jaw, those big pink lips. 
“You didn’t hear me calling you?” He asked.
You shook your head. “Sorry,” you said, giving him a cutesy grin. 
His lips twitched but he didn’t let himself smile. “You’re not cute. You have to be more aware of your surroundings,” he said. 
“Yes, sir,” you said, nodding. “Though to be fair, the only man getting in here is you.”
“Mhm,” he said, nodding his own head. “You reading your dirty books?” 
“Yes! You remember my favorite author?” You asked. 
Terry nodded, hiking his eyebrow up as he encouraged you to tell him all about your favorite author. And the book you were currently reading. “And I just got to the good part,” you said.
Terry chuckled and nodded. “Okay, I’ll leave you to it,” he said. He trailed his fingers between your legs as he moved away and you gasped. For two reasons. On the one hand, Terry’s hands on you always instantly put you in the mood. With your pussy already wet, you were thinking it was a good time for a break. 
On the other hand, you forgot that you had taken off your gifts from him while you showered. It was the only time you were allowed to do so. You meant to put the ankle and thigh bracelet back on when you lotioned up but plum forgot.
Terry stopped and you could feel his stare. It burned in the back of your head. Your heart thumped in your chest. You had no idea what he was going to do.
“Baby,” Terry’s deep timbre was a physical caress down your spine. You stretched your back and bit your lip. 
“Yes, Big Daddy,” you said, pitching your voice higher. 
“Where are your bracelets?” He rubbed his thumb across your thick thigh. The weight of those words pressed down on you, making you want to retreat in your mind. You began to pant, feeling out of sorts. You were so turned on you could barely breathe. But you were also worried about what kind of punishment you were about to receive. 
“I just showered,” you said. You rolled so that you could look at his pretty face. To at least try to gauge where his mind went. Terry stopped you by wrapping his hand around your thigh. 
“I believe you. But you’re out of the shower now,” he said. 
“I really forgot this time,” you said. 
Terry sighed, the sound like a coin drop in an empty room. “You know what we have to do now, right?” He asked.
“You sure I can’t bargain out of this one? I can be pretty cute, you said so,” you said. 
“Up,” he said, his calm voice making matters worse. You may as well have been pleading your case to a brick wall. There was no changing his mind.
You got to your knees and then flipped over, scooting to the edge of the bed. Terry rolled his shoulders as he moved to your closet. He pulled a pine green box down from the top shelf. 
He placed the large, repurposed gift box on your dresser and opened it. Cheery snowmen looked at you from the painted edges as Terry rummaged around. He drew out a pair of leather cuffs and crossed over to you.
You pouted at him as he strapped the cuffs to your wrists. There was a small golden link between them keeping it connected and not giving you much room to escape. You tested the pull on it as you tried to separate your wrists. No dice. 
Terry grabbed the link and pulled you into a standing position. He sighed deeply, his voice a rumbling thunder behind it with a hum as he stared you down. “I had plans to treat you so well when I got back,” he said. 
“Fuck,” you said, the curse flying fast. You rubbed your thighs together, staring up into his pretty colorful eyes. Every time you looked at them, they were a different color. You loved to see the changes, especially this up close. His eyes went more brown when he was like this, when he’d sunk into that role of being in charge. Of being protective. 
He kissed your cheek, softly, reverently, his juicy lips leaving a small wet spot behind. He moved down to your lips, not quite kissing you. He hummed and smirked. “Whatever happens, just know that I love you, okay?” 
“Terry,” you huffed. His name was a plea and a curse all in one. You didn’t know what was worse. Knowing the torture was coming or having to live through it. Your thighs were on fire, burning with the need to have him between them. 
He pulled you closer by the cuffs, kissing you completely this time. He brought his free hand up to cup your cheek, hands warm. You licked his lips and he moaned. “Nice try,” he said against your lips. 
He said that, but you stepped closer, rubbing yourself against his growing bulge. He chuckled, letting you, looking down while you rubbed on him. He grinned and then grabbed your shoulders, turning you around. He pushed you down. You let out a soft oomph, flopping onto the bed. 
He grabbed your hips, pushing you further up your big ass bed. He positioned you how he wanted, close to the edge, but not so close that he didn’t have free range behind you. The hairs on the back of your neck stood up as you could only hear him moving around behind you.
It sounded like he was rummaging through the goody box again. You sighed. Digging your toes into the bed. “Start reading,” he commanded, voice sharp.
How the hell were you supposed to read anything? You hesitated, looking at your phone. There was no way you’d be able to concentrate and he knew that. 
“Baby,” you said and licked your lips. 
Terry said nothing and again, you felt his gaze bearing down on you. You whimpered as you grabbed your phone, unlocking it, and swiping back to your phone. You began reading aloud, reading about the sex scene you were in the middle of. 
Reading it aloud to Terry, picturing him as the main male character, you were miserably wet. Dripping practically. You sighed, thinking of your ruined bed. You’d have to spend tonight doing laundry. 
Terry’s massive hand slapped across your ass, the recoil loud enough to rival a gunshot. You squealed, falling forward onto the bed. Heat bloomed between your thighs, warming up your core to a dangerous level. 
It still really fucking hurt though. Your ass stung and you swore that you could feel aftershocks of his hand, slapping across your ass over and over. “Fuck, fuck!” You yelled out. 
“Keep reading,” he said. 
You got back to your knees and arched your back like he positioned you in before. You returned to reading out loud, pussy throbbing at the way the words made you feel. You got to an explicit part when Terry’s hands came back down. He smacked your ass a handful more times, covering a wide area and making your ass light up like a Christmas tree.
Tears welled in your eyes from the pain and the pleasure. It was too much stimulation. “Please, please, fuck me. I can’t take it,” you whimpered. The words on your phone swam in your vision as your body contracted with shivers. Both from the radiating waves of heat and the burn low in your belly. 
Terry rubbed his hands across your ass and you screamed, kneeling away from his hands. Wherever he touched, your ass sang with pain. “Are you going to remember to put your bracelets on?” 
You nodded. “Yes, I swear,” you said. 
Terry shoved his fingers between your legs, plunging right up your pussy. You collapsed onto the bed, twitching. “Mhm, I didn’t give you permission to cum,” he said. 
“Daddy, pleaseeee,” you pleaded, lower belly twinging with the pain of fighting off your orgasm. 
“You can get wetter than this, baby,” he said. 
“I can’t,” you said, drool seeping into the navy covers beneath you. Your face was smashed into the bed, no way to hold yourself up while his fingers stroked your walls. The loud squelching of your pussy, wet because of him, made you clench around his fingers and moan. 
He placed his free hand on your ass, giving you the dual sensation of sweet torture and cruel relief. He moved his fingers faster, stretching you out with his long, thick fingers. You rode yourself on his fingers, throwing it back and he moaned. He smacked your ass more lightly this time, more in encouragement than anything else. 
“Please let me cum. Please let me cum,” you said, legs twitching. You couldn’t hold off any longer. 
Terry leaned down over your body, placing his lips as close to your ear as he could get it. “Nahhh,” he said slowly, a subtle rasp in his voice. You bit your lip and rode him harder, showing him that you needed more. “Gotta earn that shit.” 
You sobbed into your bed, tears streaming freely. You were about to explode. Come undone at the seams. “Daddy, please. Pleaaseee. Pleaaasseeee, ouee, pleeasseee,” you moaned, desperately riding his fingers. 
“You know what Daddy needs,” he said. 
Tears leaked freely, mixing with the drool and pooling onto the covers. Your mind turned to mush, no longer able to keep reading. Your moans were loud and near screaming. Your throat raw with the effort. Your essence flooded his fingers and he hummed in satisfaction. 
“There’s my good girl,” he purred. He suddenly flipped you over, not giving you a chance to work with him. He was too impatient, too needy, too rough as he positioned you on your back. He pushed your arms above your head, giving you a look. You planted your hands above your head and knew better to move them. 
It pushed your breasts up, giving him a total view of your chest. He groaned, eyes tracking to your pert nipples. Terry folded you in half, scooting his thighs beneath your back, holding you spread open for him. 
He placed soft kisses to your wet pussy, lips smacking from your juices. “Baby, I can’t hold it no more,” you said.
“You’re gonna hold it because Daddy told you to,” he said, his voice brooking no argument. You whimpered, whined, trying to breathe through being folded like a pretzel. 
Your toes brushed against the bed with every rocking motion from Terry as he got himself comfortable. He continued kissing your pussy, stopping to look back and stare at your pussy. His lips began to glisten with your essence. 
You groaned, a primal, possessive side of you jumping out. You marked your claim. It was your juices on him. Your essence feeding him. 
“Daddy, please,” you cried out. From this position, you saw his face perfectly. He stared at your pussy like a man possessed. Like a greedy man with the richest treasure in the world. Your heart softened just as your pussy throbbed. 
Terry smirked. “Pretty fuckin’ pussy. She miss me?” He asked. As if you hadn’t gone two and half rounds when you woke up this morning. As if he wasn’t driving you insane nearly every time you got within two feet of each other. 
“Yes, Daddy, she missed you,” you moaned. 
“Yeah? She gon’ be good and cum when I say?” He asked. He stared at you from beneath his long eyelashes framing his stormy blue eyes while his tongue rolled out of his mouth. He used the tip of his tongue to search through your soaked curls, separate your pussy lips, and flick across that little bundle of nerves. 
“Ouee, shit,” you moaned. Sweat beaded on your forehead. Your heart beat so loudly, it was a miracle he couldn’t hear it. You huffed, watching his tongue work around your clit. Feeling it was even better. His breath was hot across your pussy, making your breaths stutter in your chest.
His lips followed his tongue, going deeper, playing with the rim of your entrance before dipping his tongue inside you. You cried out, belly fluttering. You moved your hands and Terry’s eyes narrowed. 
Fresh tears leaked from your eyes, dripping down the side of your face. “Pleasseee,” you begged. 
“You’re doing so well, already,” he moaned. He sped up, licking you, eating you, devouring you as he lapped at your pussy. Fresh essence dripped out of you and he licked that up too. He moaned, burying his nose and face into your pussy. He ate like a man starved. Sloppily. Messily. 
“Oue, fuck, ouee,” you screamed.
Terry moved closer, like he was trying to shove his whole face inside of you. His plush lips wrapped around your clit and sucked. 
“Oh fuck! Terry! Terry!” You screamed. Your body began twitching. The orgasm you staved off was coming whether you wanted it to or not. Terry stopped altogether, suspending your body in the midpoint between denial and reprieve. 
Your eyes rolled lazily to him, panting, huffing, body feeling like you had been tossed into a barbeque pit. “T-T-”
Terry tilted his head, tongue flat against your clit. You throbbed and pulsed on his tongue but he didn’t move. Your body retreated from the edge in slow increments, relaxing against him. 
You blinked at him, no longer able to communicate a single thought. Terry’s eyes gleamed with sick pleasure. He hummed, moving his tongue against your clit once more. He brought you to the edge and then denied you the rush of pleasure at the last minute. He did it one more time, letting you relax and then bringing you back to the precipice. 
Your belly cramped so bad. Your mouth stopped working. You couldn’t do anything but pathetically moan as he ate his fill. Your toes brushed against the bed again as he leaned back far enough.
“She too tired now?” He asked.
You shook your head. Furthest thing from it. Terry smirked. “You nice and dumb for me, baby?” He asked. He gave you teasing little licks. You hissed and moaned, eyes aching from how hard you closed them from the torture. 
“Answer me when I’m talking to you,” Terry said, smacking your ass for good measure. It woke you from the fog long enough to nod. 
“Yes, Big Daddy,” you said. 
Terry grinned and then relented, giving in and eating you with a renewed fervor. “You can cum now, baby,” he moaned into your pussy. His tongue and lips teased your clit. His fingers dipped back inside your entrance, coaxing that sweet, sweet orgasm out of you.
You screamed loud enough to wake the dead. Or hell, maybe you joined them. Lights burst behind your eyelids as you came with so much force, you couldn’t breathe. Your pussy ached and throbbed, thighs shaking against Terry’s face as he teased you throughout the whole ride. 
He slowed down as he sensed that you were coming down, drawing out his teasing licks and kisses to your pussy. He pulled back and your essence dripped from his face. He looked like he went swimming in your pussy. His entire jaw was covered, shiny and wet. You wish you could take a picture of him like this.
A long spit chain connected you to him and he moaned, ending on a hiss. “That’s a good fuckin’ pussy,” he huffed as he regained his own breathing. “Turn that ass over.”
Terry lowered you to the bed while he hopped off. He made quick work of his clothes, his huffs and puffs the only indication of how badly he was rushing. You were just a noodle, watching him reveal inches of his bronze skin, the veins in his biceps, the tattoos on his arms.
You traced the tattoos more times than you could count, lips twitching with the urge to do so now. His thighs were equally delicious. As big as tree trunks, a light dusting of hair. And that ass. He turned to the side briefly so he could free his long legs from his underwear and sweats. 
“You are so damn pretty,” you mumbled. 
Terry chuckled. You didn’t think he heard you. “That’s my line,” he said. “And I’m pretty sure I told you what you need to be doing.” 
You couldn’t flip over fast enough, giggling. He’d just bent you over and ate you so well, your leg was still wobbly and shaky. Yet you yearned for more. Yearned for his body surrounding you, protecting you, caging you in his embrace. You were greedy. Needing, wanting, craving more. 
Terry descended onto the bed, roughly grabbing your hips and sliding inside with a savage thrust. 
“Oueeee, SHIT, Daddy!” You screamed. He slid out and then slid back in, coating his long dick with your essence. 
“Cream this shit,” he moaned, sliding inside faster. His massive hands gripped your hips and pulled you onto his punishing dick, ramming into you. “Made for me. You were made for me, weren’t you?” He asked.
“Yes, Daddy, I was made for you,” you moaned. He stretched you beautifully, slamming into you just as rough as you wanted. As you needed. 
“Just a pretty, tight hole for me to abuse whenever I want?” He asked.
You sobbed, tears gathering in your eyes once more. He hit that magical spot inside of you, the spot only he could reach. No other man, not even your toys, could hit that spot with such precision. With accuracy. He was just as much made for you. 
“Yes, Daddy,” you moaned, voice muffled by the covers. The bed dipped as Terry leaned over, planting a fist beside your head to hold up his weight. He used his other hand to grab a handful of braids and yank, baring your throat to him. 
“I wish you could see how creamy you are. Pretty little ring on my dick. So nice and wet,” he cooed into your ear. He pulled your head back so that he could kiss you. His face smelled like you. You moaned and clenched around his dick. He hissed and then growled in your ear. 
“Filling me so deep, Daddy,” you moaned. “So fuckin’ deep, ohmygoood.”
Terry chuckled. He shifted his hips and drove in deeper, possibly down to his base, as he fucked you into the mattress. Your hands stretched out in front of you, gripping onto the covers just trying to meet his thrusts. 
“Untie me, Daddy. Let me feel you,” you begged. 
Terry responded by kissing you, tongue licking your lips. You opened your mouth and played with his tongue. His beautiful, amazing tongue that was capable of the sweetest words and the filthiest things. 
“You don’t know how to behave when you’re free,” he said against your cheek. 
“I’ll behave, I promise,” you whispered. 
Terry moaned, dick throbbing inside you. “I want to believe you,” he said. 
He kept up his brutal, savage thrusts, digging into you and making your belly clench. “Pleasse, Daddy. I want to feel you,” you moaned. 
“All you need to do is feel this dick, baby. Feel how much you mean to me. How much I want to take care of you,” he said.
Each thrust felt like it was going straight to your heart. There was no way you were still flooding his dick. Still making it easier for him to glide and thrust and stroke so far inside you, you couldn’t tell where you ended and he began. 
“Fuck me so good. So well,” you moaned. 
Terry gripped your hips and then pulled you down harder, faster, rougher. You yelped and squealed, stretched out on the bed, trying to escape. Terry yanked you back, fingers digging into your skin harder. 
“Shit, shit, shit, shit,” you moaned. Your thighs trembled from trying to hold yourself up from his hold. He kept you in place, filling you, fucking you good and deep. Your eyes rolled back into your head. But still, your body propelled you forward. Both because of his thrusts and because you just couldn’t take any more. All the edging from earlier had you spent. 
“Sit that ass up,” he panted, breaths falling across your damp back. 
“C-Can’t,” you stuttered. 
Terry grunted and pulled you by the hair until you were on your knees. He sat on his haunches, continuing to pound inside you. 
“You keep telling me what you can’t do. But all this time you been takin’ this dick and doing what Daddy tell you to. Do you know how proud I am of you? So pretty when you listen,” he moaned. 
“Fuck, Daddy, please,” you moaned. 
Terry grabbed your arms and pulled it until the cuffs went over his head. It made you thrust out your chest and he grabbed your titties, playing with your sensitive nipples. He pinched and plucked as he fucked you, kissing your neck and biting your shoulder. 
Your pussy made smacking noises on his dick, sounding thick and creamy. You moans mingled in the room, mixing with the pound of the headboard against the wall. You were constantly getting little dents in it from the force of your lovemaking. It was too much. You tried to sit on his lap but he grunted.  “Mhm,” he said, pulling you into a kneeling position one more time. 
“If I gotta stand you up one more time, you ain’t gon’ like it,” he snapped. 
You whimpered and whined but concentrated on holding yourself up. His dick slammed into your walls while he kissed your neck. One hand gripped your titty and squeezed while his other hand searched lower, rubbing two fingers against your pussy. 
You screamed out, unable to hold off this one. It gobbled you up with the force of it. Tearing you down to your roots, breaking you down to your center, to the very last atom that makes you you. You cried out, shaking, twitching. 
Your vision turned black and your right ear rung with a tinny bell as you came and came in rolling waves. One triggered another for an extended orgasm, body jerking uncontrollably. 
“Cum so pretty,” he said. “You ready for this nut?” 
You could only manage a nod as he rolled his shoulders and moaned in your ear while he came, unloading a thick load of cum inside of you. 
There was no more air in your lungs enough to moan. You could only sigh as he warmed you up from the inside, soaking your walls with his cum. Nothing leaked out as he continued to stroke into you.
Your body arched as he stilled, buried to the hilt. He kissed your neck, your cheek, your jaw. He brought the fingers he used to play with your clit up to your mouth and bid you to suck. 
“Taste that?” He asked.
You nodded. Too spent, too tired, to fucked out to do anything else but yawn. Terry chuckled, and slipped out. His cum leaked out with him, sliding down your leg and dripping onto the bed. 
“Sleepy,” you mumbled.
“I know, baby. But let’s run you a bath first and I’ll change these sheets,” he said. He lowered your arms from his neck and then laid you on your side. He gave you a kiss on your forehead. 
“Don’t let me catch you without your bracelets again,” he said.
“Yes, Big Daddy,” you yawned, stretching out onto the bed to await his tender, loving aftercare.
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WHEW. If you need more like I do, here ya gooo! The Secret Terry Richmond Files
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amiableness · 21 hours
Text
Peonies ; part three
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Pairing: Theo Nott x Fem!Reader
Summary: Theo and reader get even closer, and Mattheo is not a fan.
Word Count: 5280
Warnings: Unrequited love & Mattheo and Reader get into it. Let me know if there’s more!
A/N 💌 God, this took me forever to write. I struggled with writers block so badly on this, so if it’s not my best work, I apologize. As always, thank you to @moonpascal for reading, helping me with ideas, and just providing support and comfort. I love you!
SERIES MASTERLIST <3
“Y’good?” Theo looks up from the fire, his gaze shifting to Blaise, who’s now standing beside the couch. The flames had been the only company he’d had for hours. It was late—he couldn’t say exactly how late—just that the common room had emptied long ago, and he’d been sitting there long after everyone else had gone to bed.
“Yeah,” Theo sighs, his eyes drifting back to the flickering flames. “I’m good.” His words are hollow, almost as if he’s trying to convince himself. Blaise watches him for a moment, studying the tension in his posture, before quietly sitting down in the empty space beside him. Neither of them speaks, both of them watching as the flames dance.
Blaise leans back, glancing at Theo before breaking the silence. “You don’t look it,” he says, his voice calm but direct.
“Just thinking.” Theo just shrugs, his shoulders barely lifting, the gesture heavy with indifference. Blaise watches him for a moment, waiting, giving him the space to say something more—but the silence stretches.
“About her?”
Theo’s reaction is answer enough. He exhales sharply, running a hand through his hair with a tired frustration. For a brief moment, he pauses, elbows resting on his knees, his head cradled in his hands.
He drops his hands slowly, lifting his head to glance over at Blaise, his eyes tired, “When am I not?”
Blaise smiles slightly at his words. He’s known for years that Theo liked you—it was impossible to miss. From the moment Mattheo introduced you, Blaise vividly remembers the way Theo looked at you, as if his breath had been knocked from his lungs.
He was completely undone in a single glance.
And if that hadn’t been enough of a giveaway, the little things Theo did for you over the years certainly were—grabbing your favorite sweets from Hogsmeade when you couldn’t make the trip, offering help before you even had to ask, his gaze always seeking you out no matter how crowded the room. It was undeniable, even if Theo never spoke it aloud.
“Listen, mate,” Blaise begins, casting a quick glance at Theo, gauging his expression before continuing. “Do you think this is a good idea?”
“What?”
“Helping her get over Mattheo while you’re in love with her yourself.” Blaise's words hang in the air, and Theo's jaw tightens instinctively, a storm of emotions flickering across his face.
He wants to deny that he’s in love with you, but deep down, he knows it’s pointless. The truth is unquestionable; he’s been drawn to you for years, but these last few months have sent him falling even deeper.
How was he ever supposed to get over you when every moment only pulled him deeper? The way your fingers slipped so easily into his, like they belonged there, the soft curve of your lips as his thumb traced gentle circles over your skin. How sleeping over in your dorm had somehow become routine—he was sure Pansy was staying with Blaise on purpose to give him space with you. And those long walks around the castle, meant to distract you from Mattheo and Veronica, had turned into something else entirely—talks that lasted for hours, about everything and nothing, but always feeling like more.
It’s why he hasn’t left this couch in hours, struggling with the weight of his feelings. The realization hits him hard: he’s completely fallen for you, and he’s trapped. Because in your eyes, he’s just a friend, and that thought feels like a punch to the gut.
“She asked me to, and I can’t say no to her,” Theo replies, his voice laced with a mix of frustration and resignation. “I’ve never been able to.”
“You’re going to get yourself hurt if you’re not careful.” Blaise warns, his tone serious.
“We’ve long passed that point.” Theo sighs.
.·。.·゜✭·.·✫·゜·。.
“Where in Hogsmeade do you get the flowers?” You glance over at Theo, sitting next to you on the common room couch, your question pulling him from his thoughts. Whatever everyone else was talking about had long since lost your interest, and if Theo were honest, he’d admit he wasn’t listening either. How could he be, with you so close? The heat of your body nearly pressed into his side, making it impossible for him to think straight.
“What?” He replies, but the pause lingers just a little too long. He's stalling, clearly hesitant to admit the truth—that the flowers aren't from Hogsmeade.
“The peonies.” You murmur, shifting until you're turned toward him, tucking yourself into his side. His arm rests casually on the back of the couch, and the sudden closeness feels intimate.
“What shop do you get them from?” You ask, your voice so soft it nearly melts him.
His mind goes blank the moment he sees you nestled against his side, looking up at him through your lashes. The way your gaze lingers on him, so close, steals any coherent thought he might have had.
“Why?” He asks, feigning casualness.
“I wanted to get some for myself,” you shrug, “I’ve never seen peonies so beautiful before.”
“No,” Theo responds so quickly that it catches you off guard, an amused eyebrow arching as you glance at him in surprise. The truth is, he hates the idea of you picking your own flowers—he wants to be the one to give them to you. “I’ll just take you with me next time I go, yeah?”
“Yeah.” You nod in agreement, a soft smile tugging at your lips, clearly content with his answer. As you turn back to the conversation, that smile still lingers, and Theo can’t help but admire you for a moment, a quiet satisfaction settling in knowing he was the reason for it. But when he glances back up, his gaze meets Mattheo’s.
Mattheo’s brow furrows as he shifts his gaze between you and Theo, a flicker of suspicion darkening his eyes. Without thinking, Theo drops his arm, casually wrapping it around your shoulders in a possessive gesture—one he knows he shouldn’t make. Your body instinctively leans into him, sending a warmth coursing through Theo; it feels so natural to have you this close. Mattheo’s expression tightens just slightly, his gaze lingering a heartbeat too long before he finally looks away.
You barely have time to enjoy being cuddled into Theo’s side, before Pansy turns to you. Both of you exchange annoyed glances at something particularly ridiculous Draco just said, rolling your eyes in unison. But then her expression shifts from irritation to excited disbelief as she catches sight of you nestled against Theo, his fingers absentmindedly tracing gentle patterns on your skin.
Pansy can’t help but raise her eyebrows, a grin spreading across her face as she processes the scene before her. Before you can send her a warning look, she’s on her feet, leaving Blaise protesting. “It’s time for bed,” She declares, pointedly looking at you. “And you’re coming with me.”
You sigh, knowing all too well that Pansy would make a scene if you didn’t follow her lead. Reluctantly, you lean forward, easing yourself out of Theo’s grasp, but before fully pulling away, you pause. Gently, you press a soft kiss to his cheek, your lips lingering for just a moment longer than usual. “Goodnight,” you murmur quietly, the words almost lost in the space between you before you finally stand.
Pansy, giddy and practically buzzing with excitement, grabs your hand and tugs you toward your dorm, both of you tossing casual goodnights over your shoulders to the boys. Blaise grumbles loudly about not getting a proper goodnight from his girlfriend, while Theo remains silent, a soft pink flush creeping across his cheeks as he watches you walk away, still feeling the warmth of your kiss lingering on his skin.
You catch the sound of the boys teasing Theo the moment they assume you're out of earshot, their playful jabs and laughter unmistakable as they seize the opportunity to rib him. Even from a distance, you can imagine Theo's flushed face as he tries—and likely fails—to brush off their teasing.
“Is there something going on between the two of you?” Pansy blurts out the second you step into your dorm, her excitement practically radiating off her as she nearly slams the door shut behind her.
“No, why would you even think that?” You ask, genuinely surprised, but Pansy just stares at you incredulously, like you’ve completely missed the obvious.
“You’re kidding, right?” She says, crossing her arms. “The sleepovers? The hand holding? The fact that you two are practically inseparable?”
“He’s helping me get over Mattheo.” You insist, feeling the need to defend yourself, though even as the words leave your mouth, they sound weaker than you’d like.
After a couple of months of coming to terms with the reality of Mattheo and Veronica, you’ve found that the idea of them together doesn’t sting nearly as much as it once did. Sure, you still dislike seeing them together, but the ache has softened into something more manageable. If anything, what bothers you most now is your lingering dislike for Veronica herself; there’s just something about her that grates on your nerves.
“Babes,” Pansy says, her tone full of disbelief, like you’re the only one who can’t see what’s right in front of you.
“You know I’d tell you if there was something going on.” You say, but even as the words leave your mouth, there's a flicker of doubt in your chest, as if the truth isn’t quite as simple as you want it to be.
“I guess so,” Pansy replies, still eyeing you with clear skepticism, her gaze sharp as if she's waiting for you to admit what you’re not even sure of yet. “Just so you know, I think he’d give you everything if you let him.”
.·。.·゜✭·.·✫·゜·。.
Your conversation with Pansy hasn’t left your mind in days, and quite honestly, it’s driving you a little mad.
I think he’d give you everything if you let him.
You can’t quite tell if Pansy is subtly suggesting that Theo has feelings for you or if she simply likes the idea of the two of you together. Either way, her words have been playing on a loop in your mind, so much so that you’ve started to feel nervous around him.
Every time he looks at you or takes your hand, your thoughts scatter, leaving you utterly flustered. You’re trying your best to hide just how distracted you are around him, but Theo’s definitely noticed. This morning, when he leaned in to whisper something, your mind went completely blank, every thought consumed by him.
Him, him, him.
The warmth of his voice, the way his hand rested on the small of your back as he spoke—it was all you could focus on. The way his attention never wavered, how it was solely on you, made your heart race like it was the only thing that mattered in the room.
And when you failed to respond, he paused, concern flashing in his eyes as his brows furrowed. “You okay?” His voice was soft, genuine, and somehow that only made things worse. You had nodded quickly, plastering on what you hoped was a convincing smile, but inside, your mind was a chaotic mess.
Had he always looked at you that way? Like he was genuinely checking in, always quietly noticing when something was off? It made you wonder if you’d been blind to it all this time or if this was something new, something you’d only just started paying attention to.
You’re so lost in your thoughts that you barely register when Mattheo bumps into you in the hallway. You cast a quick glance his way, ready to keep walking, but he reaches out, gently grabbing your wrist and pulling you back.
“Wait, hold on,” Mattheo says, his grip on your wrist warm yet insistent, his voice edged with irritation and disbelief. “Were you really just going to walk past me?”
“I’m not doing this right now.” You huff, pulling your wrist free from his grasp, trying to mask the frustration that’s been simmering for weeks.
“Doing what?” His voice hardens, his eyes narrowing in confusion.
“Talking to you.” You snap.
“Why the hell not?”
You feel a surge of irritation, meeting his gaze with a fiery glare. “Because you’ve ignored me for the past few months, Mattheo. Why should I care to talk to you now?”
“That’s not fair,” he mutters, his jaw tightening as frustration creeps into his tone. “It’s not that I’ve been ignoring you.”
“The last time we properly talked,” you snap, “you asked for your jersey back—the one you gave me.” The memory of it still stings, and you can’t help but throw it back at him. “So yeah, Mattheo, it’s more than fair.”
He frowns, clearly caught off guard by your words, his eyes flickering with something between guilt and disbelief. “Listen, I know we haven’t hung out much—”
“Are you being serious?” You scoff, folding your arms as if that could somehow shield you from the frustration bubbling inside. “You’ve practically disappeared, Mattheo. You’ve been too busy with your girlfriend to even notice anyone else.” You want to roll your eyes at the way he looks genuinely confused, like he's completely unaware of how he's hurt you.
He opens his mouth to argue, but you don’t give him the chance.
“You don’t get to be annoyed with me for not talking to you,” you bite out, your voice sharp with frustration. “Not when you’ve been doing the exact same thing for months.”
“I’m sorry, okay? I know I’ve spent a lot of time with her, but it’s the same for you and Theo.” His voice shifts, annoyance replacing the guilt. “You’re always with him. Holding hands, spending the night together-what the fuck is that by the way?”
You take a step back, the heat of his words catching you off guard. “We’re just friends, Mattheo. We’re allowed to hang out.” You keep your voice steady, even as your heart races at the accusation in his gaze.
“Friends? Is that really what you’re calling it?” He crosses his arms, the tension in his posture unmistakable. “Because it looks like more to me. You’re always with him.”
You shake your head, a bitter laugh escaping your lips. “And whose fault is that? You pushed me away, Mattheo. What did you expect me to do—just wait around?”
“I just don’t get why you’re always with him. You and Theo—" He cuts himself off, the words hanging between you.
You raise an eyebrow, challenging him to finish, but he stays silent, “Theo and I what?”
He takes a moment, his gaze hardening slightly, as if weighing his words carefully. “You know what? Forget it,” he says, shrugging dismissively. “I really don’t care what you two are up to.”
You scoff, crossing your arms tightly and shooting him a piercing glare. “Oh, come off it, Mattheo. You clearly care. And honestly, what does it matter to you if I spend time with Theo? You’ve been wrapped up in Veronica this whole time.” Your voice drips with sarcasm, each word punctuating the frustration bubbling inside you.
He falters, his frustration twisting into something more vulnerable for a split second before he shakes his head. Hearing her name seems to snap something in him. His jaw clenches, and he takes a slow, measured breath before looking back at you, his expression hardening.
Mattheo meets your eyes, his expression unreadable for a moment before he rolls his shoulders, dismissing the tension. “Honestly? I’ve got enough on my plate with Veronica. I don’t need to waste my time worrying about you and Theo.”
The words sting more than you expect, and for a moment, the air between you thickens with unspoken feelings and unresolved tension. “Right,” you say, trying to keep your voice steady. “Because you’re so busy.”
He turns away, shaking his head slightly, as if trying to shake off the conversation. “Whatever, just... do what you want.”
You watch as he steps back, the distance between you suddenly feeling too large, and you can’t help but wonder how badly damaged your friendship is—or what’s left of it. You’re so angry that you want to cry, and you’re grateful that the halls are empty as Mattheo walks away, leaving you to stand alone in the deserted corridor.
.·。.·゜✭·.·✫·゜·。.
You had promised Pansy you’d be ready in just a few minutes, but half an hour had slipped by while she was in the bathroom and you remained sat on your bed, lost in thought. Your gaze drifted to the pictures of you and Mattheo that adorned the wall, memories captured in each frame. The urge to rip them down clawed at you, but the thought of erasing those moments felt unbearable. Each smile, each laugh shared now felt tainted, leaving you uncertain of what to do with them.
The argument with Mattheo this morning replayed in your mind like a stubborn song on repeat, and the idea of facing him at the party made your stomach twist with anxiety. In all the years of your friendship, you’d rarely fought—occasional bickering was one thing, but this felt different, more profound. The sharpness of his words lingered, and a nagging fear took root: what if this was it? What if this marked the beginning of the end for a friendship you considered so strong?
“You said you’d be ready.” Pansy sighs, casting a disapproving look at the sweatpants you’re wearing. You hadn’t even heard her leave the bathroom.
You glance way from the pictures and send her a half shrug, “I don’t think I’m going to go.”
“Oh, you absolutely are,” Pansy’s heels click against the floor as she heads to her trunk. “If you stay here you won’t stop thinking about earlier.”
You don’t bother responding—you know she’s right. Pansy continues rummaging through her trunk, the sound of fabric rustling filling the room. After a moment, she straightens up, triumphantly holding a sleek dress in hand, her eyes gleaming with satisfaction.
She shoves the black, silky dress into your hands before pointing at the bathroom, “Go. I’ll find heels for you to wear.”
There’s no point in arguing. Instead, you make your way to the bathroom a slip into the dress, feeling the smooth fabric wrap around you. For a moment, you admire the way it hugs you in the mirror, the cut flattering your body type well. Stepping out, you give a little spin for Pansy, her approving smirk already forming before you even say a word.
“Merlin, that dress was made for you.” Pansy grins as she steps forward, handing you a pair of heels. You take them, slipping them on effortlessly, the added height giving you an extra boost of confidence. Before you can even react, she’s already fussing with your hair, smoothing out stray strands and perfecting every detail. With a quick swipe of lip gloss after making you pout, she steps back, giving you an approving nod.
You can officially call yourself ready.
Pansy laces her fingers through yours as you walk down to the common room. As soon as you step out of your dorm, the noise rushes in, chaotic and overwhelming. You hesitate for a moment, knowing Mattheo is probably at the center of it all. The last thing you want is to run into him after earlier, especially with Veronica around.
You’re relieved when you reach the bottom of the stairs that Pansy has already spotted Blaise, which means the rest of the boys are near. And you’re proven right the moment Pansy pulls you through the crowd. Your eyes land on the boys—everyone except Mattheo—gathered together in their usual spot, laughing and talking like they own the room.
Before you even realize it, your eyes instinctively search for Theo, and it doesn't take long to spot him. He’s leaning casually against the wall with a drink in his hand.
Your breath hitches as your gaze lands on the dark shirt rolled up to his elbows, highlighting his toned arms. The veins tracing down to his hands catch your eye, drawing you in deeper. And those hands—Gods, those hands. An unexpected longing surges within you, a sudden urge to lean into his side, to feel him wrap his arm around your waist, resting his hand on the small of your back, just as he often did.
Ever since his match a couple of weeks ago, it’s as if something has switched within you. No matter how hard you try, your eyes are irresistibly drawn to Theo Nott. It doesn’t help that he’s so attentive, always making sure to check in with you and holding your hand whenever you needed it. In the past couple of months, he has become the one person you feel safest with, the one you can share your thoughts and worries with without hesitation.
Your stomach drops the moment you notice he isn’t alone. A bitter taste creeps into your mouth as you take in the girl standing in front of him—she’s stunning, effortlessly leaning into his space, clearly flirting. A few months ago, you wouldn’t have cared, wouldn’t have given her a second thought, but now it’s all you can focus on. The way she laughs, the way she seems to command his attention—it stings in a way you’re not prepared for.
Without a second thought, you drop Pansy’s hand and head straight toward them. The closer you get, the more her light, flirtatious giggle grates on your nerves, each sound making your stomach twist with irritation. Every step tightens the knot of annoyance building inside you, your focus narrowing in on them, unable to shake the discomfort settling in your chest.
When you draw close to Theo, you reach out and lightly touch his forearm, your fingers trailing down his skin before intertwining with his. It’s a blend of flirtation and possessiveness, and you watch with satisfaction as the girl’s gaze follows your touch.
Theo glances at you, instantly recognizing your touch, but his breath catches in his throat as his eyes travel down your body. Taking in the way the tight black dress hugs your curves, he feels as if his breath has been caught in his throat. The way you’re staring at the girl—your expression unmistakably conveying ‘back off’—stirs something deep within him. He fights the urge to pull you close, his hand finding the back of your neck as he kisses you fiercely, wanting to make it clear that him flirting with another girl is not a possibility.
But he can’t do that.
“I’m so sorry to interrupt—” though you’re not at all. “But I’ve been looking all over for you.” Your gaze flickers up to meet Theo’s, and you catch him watching you with an amused, quirked brow, a hint of a smile playing at the corners of his lips.
“Oh,” she says, straightening up, her expression shifting from surprise to something more calculating. “So the rumors are true? You two are together?”
“If you’ve heard we’re together, then why even bother flirting with him?” You challenge, your voice steady and laced with confidence.
Her lips part in disbelief, and her eyes flicker between you and Theo, who stands beside you, bringing his cup to his lips to stifle the amused smile threatening to break free. The corners of his mouth twitch, betraying his enjoyment, while you stand firm, radiating confidence in the face of her surprise.
She scoffs and turns to leave, causing your confidence to begin slipping away.
Now that it’s just you and Theo, the reality of what you’ve done is sinking in. There’s no way your little display of jealousy didn’t just fuel the rumors that the two of you are together. But not only that, you didn’t deny it when she asked. You keep your eyes on the girl walking away and sigh when you realize she’s gone straight to her friends, no doubt to tell them about how you acted.
“You’re going to have the whole school thinking we’re together.” His voice is soft but teasing, a hint of amusement lacing his words as he holds you close.
He releases your hand, sliding his arm around your waist as he pulls you into him. The move is bolder than usual, more daring than the subtle touches you’re used to from him, and you can't help but blame it on the drink he's holding. His grip is firm, warm, and it sends a rush of heat through you that lingers far longer than it should.
“I’m sorry,” you wince, biting your lip as you glance up at Theo. “I probably just ruined your chances of finding a hookup for tonight.”
In all honesty, you feel more relieved than sorry.
His brow arches slightly, a hint of amusement glinting in his eyes. “Who said I was looking for a hookup?”
You scoff lightly, shifting in his hold, though his arm remains firmly wrapped around your waist. “You do remember we’ve been friends for years, right?” Your voice is teasing as you smile up at him.
Theo shrugs like he’s hardly bothered, his expression softening just a bit. “I haven’t hooked up with anyone in months,” he admits quietly, his voice sincere. The closeness between you feels more intimate than ever, the warmth of his body against yours making your heart race.
Suddenly your mind is jumping to the fact that the both of you have been hanging out for months. But there’s no way you’re going to point that out, so instead you smile at him softly before pulling away.
“I’m gonna get a drink. Do you want to come with me?” You extend your hand, and without hesitation, Theo clasps it in his, his grip warm and comforting.
It didn’t take long for you to feel tipsy; with the number of drinks you’ve had, it’s hardly a shock. Theo wasn’t drinking as much as you were, and he certainly wasn’t going to admit it was because he wanted to keep an eye on you.
Typically, he observed from a distance, leaning against the wall with a drink in hand, as you danced and laughed with Pansy and occasionally Enzo. But he realized he liked being the one that was next to you the whole night, and he’d enjoy the parties way more if this is how they all are.
You let out a sigh, and Theo’s brows knit together in curiosity as he looks down at you. You glance into your cup with a hint of disdain, contemplating whether to refill it. But just as you make a move to get more, Theo gently reaches out, stopping you in your tracks.
Earlier you had convinced him to dance with you, and it took plenty of ‘please’s’ on your end to persuade him. Really, the first time you said it had been enough, but he just liked how pretty it sounded falling from your lips. And once he grew tired of dancing, Enzo stepped in while Theo kept an eye on you as he chatted with Draco and Blaise. If he was tired, he couldn’t imagine how you were feeling.
You offer him a grateful smile as you settle back against the wall. Unfortunately, all the couches and chairs are taken, so you find yourself keeping watch, hoping a spot will open up while you take a breather from dancing with Pansy.
“That didn’t take you long.” You comment as someone leans against the wall next to you, but you’re surprised when you see Mattheo in Theo’s place. The sight of him immediately sobers you, and you find yourself standing up straighter, instinctively avoiding his gaze.
“I lied to you earlier,” He exhales slowly, and the tone of his voice reveals that he’s been drinking. He’s not drunk, but you can tell that the alcohol has certainly taken effect, adding a warm haze to his words. “I do care. I care a whole fucking lot actually.”
“No, I’m not doing this with you.” You cross your arms, glancing over at him and Mattheo shifts so he’s fully facing you with one shoulder against the wall.
“Do you know how hard it is to see you with Theo?” He asks, and you scoff, deliberately turning your gaze away from him. “You’ve got no idea how much it hurts.”
“I cannot believe you just said that to me.” Your head snaps to the side, disbelief flooding your voice as you look at Mattheo. “You have a girlfriend.”
“I know,” he replies, frustration creeping into his tone. “But it doesn’t change how I feel about you.”
“How you feel about me?” Your voice rises, the sarcasm unmistakable.
“I’ve liked you. For years.”
You let out a laugh, disbelief and shock coursing through you. “That’s not funny.”
His expression softens, and he steps closer, desperation flickering in his eyes. “I’m not joking. It’s the truth.”
“Really? You think this is how you show someone you care?” You shake your head, trying to grasp the absurdity of the moment. “You’re with someone else, Mattheo. You can’t just decide to have feelings for me while you’re with her.”
“But I didn’t just decide that while I was with her,” he insists, his voice low and earnest. “I’ve always had them. I tried to push it down, to ignore it, but I can’t anymore. Seeing you with Theo…” His voice trails off, frustration giving way to vulnerability.
“I don’t know what you want me to say.” You sigh, trying to swallow down all your emotions. This is the last place you want to be having this conversation. In fact, you don’t even want to be having it at all.
“I want you to say you have feelings for me too.” Mattheo says and you stare at him in surprise.
Theo stood frozen a short distance away, gripping the fresh drink he had just gotten for you. He knew he shouldn’t be listening in, but when Mattheo confessed his feelings for you, he felt compelled to stay put, unable to move. A knot of dread twisted in his stomach as he braces himself for your response. He knew better than anyone about your feelings for Mattheo, and the possibility that they hadn’t completely faded hadn’t escaped him.
It’s over before he even gets a chance. Your feelings for Mattheo have always been there, and maybe it was delusional of him to think that you getting jealous over him and flirting all night meant he had a chance. But he really believed that your feelings might have changed.
“I can’t say that.” You nearly whisper, and Mattheo looks like you’ve just slapped him.
“Because you have feelings for him?”
His question hangs there, thick with emotion, and you can see the way his eyes search yours for an answer.
Theo doesn’t get to hear your answer because, as you move to get past Mattheo, you catch sight of him, and your face crumples with the weight of emotion, the glimmer of unshed tears evident in your eyes. A wave of concern washes over him, and before he can fully process it, you push past Mattheo, urgency guiding you forward. When you reach Theo, you wrap your arms around his neck, burying your face against his shoulder, and he instinctively pulls you closer, wrapping his arms around your waist.
“Can we leave? I don’t want to be here anymore.” Theo agrees without any hesitation. He glances up at Mattheo, who scoffs in clear irritation, their eyes locking for a brief, tense moment. Theo gently grasps your hand before guiding you through the crowd and to your dorm.
please please please consider reblogging or leaving a comment! it keeps me motivated to write, and reblogs help to spread my work 🤍
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bloatedandalone04 · 2 days
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Don’t Ever Leave My Side
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➪the one where you finally let jake take you out on a date after countless rejections, but it turns out that the guy you convinced yourself he was, isn’t who he is at all.
Warnings: smut, fluff, pda, unprotected sex, swearing, pining, oral (f receiving), jake being whipped bc i missed writing for him
Word Count: 4.7k
Do not repost this anywhere, reblogs are fine ♡
You weren’t sure why you had reapplied your makeup for the third time now after deciding that it didn’t look good enough. And you opted to leave your hair how it normally looked right after a shower and to not touch it, but here you were, hastily curling it as you checked the time on your phone for the fourth time since plugging in the curling iron. 
None of it mattered at all. It was just a stupid date. One stupid date you promised Jake Seresin you’d go on with him, that was it. 
The guy had been asking you out for months now, and you’ve shut him down every time since you knew how he was with the women who frequented the Hard Deck. He was a player, in the sky and on the ground, and you wanted nothing to do with it, which is why you’ve rejected him more times than you can count on both hands. 
Yet he was persistent, the fucker. To get him to stop, you agreed to go out with him the last time you bumped into him, and that date was scheduled for tonight. In exactly four minutes, but you were planning on being late just to fuck with him, because there was no way you were going on a second date with him. No way. No.
You just finished your hair when your phone went off with a text, and you glanced down at it as you unplugged the curler and set it down on the counter. 
Jake Seresin: I’m here, gorgeous. Hope you’re prepared for tonight ;)
For some reason, reading that gave you butterflies in your stomach, and you quickly typed out a response before setting your phone down and pulling on the simple black dress you picked out for tonight.
Nice. I’m not ready yet.
The dress was tight around your torso area but got looser around your thighs, and the straps were so thin, you had to wear a strapless bra so it didn’t look dumb. The hem around your chest was lace and provided a small amount of cleavage that left nothing to the imagination, so yeah. It was very simple. 
After checking yourself a respectable three times, you slide on your ankle boots and grab your purse. 
You wondered if Jake was annoyed that you took so long to get ready since he read your text but never responded to it, but you were wrong as you opened your front door and saw him leaning against the passenger side of his truck with a stupid fucking smile on his face. “Hey, sweetheart,” he greeted as you huffed and turned to lock the door. When you made your way over to him, Jake moved out of the way and opened the passenger door for you. “You look stunning.”
“Thanks,” you drag the word out a bit as you hop up onto the seat and place your hands on your lap as he shuts the door behind you. A few seconds later, he was sitting beside you in the driver’s seat as he put the truck into drive. “Where are we going?”
Jake grinned over at you as he flicked the radio on, and some country song began playing quietly through the speakers as he answered, “It’s a surprise. Shocking, I know, but if I’m only getting one shot at this, I’m gonna do it right,”
“Great, I love surprises,” you mumbled, looking out the window before quickly looking back at him once you further processed his words. “And there’s no if, Jake. You are only getting one shot at this.”
You weren’t sure whose head you were trying to get that through at this point. 
But Jake wasn’t fazed as his grin grew. “Better make sure I don’t fuck this up then,” he said, glancing over at you. “I promise, I’ll make it count.”
He sounded so excited and he looked hot in his jeans and button up and jacket. You hated it, because you’ve seen him with other girls before, and he never put on this nice of an outfit, and he never gave them the amount of attention he’s already given you since you left your house. 
And you were even more annoyed when he pulled into a parking spot right outside your favorite Italian restaurant ten minutes later. You looked at the bright sign that said the name of the restaurant with squinted eyes before looking over at Jake. “Why are we here?”
Jake looked a bit panicked for a second as he paused mid-way through taking off his seatbelt. “Is this not…I thought this was your favorite place to eat at,” he sounded nervous now and you loosened up a bit as you took off your own seatbelt. 
“It is,” you confirmed, “But how did you know that?”
Jake looked more relaxed as he finally let his seatbelt go and opened the door. “Bird Boy told me,” he said and you groaned. 
“Damnit, Rooster,” you muttered as you grabbed your bag and reached for the handle, but Jake was already there and opening the door for you. “I’m going to yell at him the next time I see him.” You state as you get out of the truck.
Bradley was your best friend, and the guy who had witnessed a lot of your rejections to Jake firsthand. You weren’t all that surprised that he felt a little bad for the blond and helped him out with this, because your best friend was a decent guy and one of your favorite people. But you were still going to yell at him.
“Really?” Jake laughed as he placed his hand on the small of your back and led you towards the doors of the restaurant. “Because I can’t stop thanking the guy, and that’s kind of a big deal for me.”  
You huffed out a laugh in return as he guided you inside, and a few minutes later you were sitting at a booth with him with your drinks placed in front of you. Your menu was flat on the table while he held his up, his eyes flickering over the options as you subtly watched him. 
“What’s good here?” He asked, “This is my first time in this place.”
You picked up your margarita with a shrug, “Everything, from what I can tell,”
Jake glanced at you over the top of his menu, his brows furrowing as he realized that you didn’t even look at your own. “What are you doing? What’s wrong?”
You set your drink down and leaned back against the booth. “I know what I’m getting. I get it every time,”
Jake’s lips turned upwards at that as he set the menu down and slid his water closer to him on the table. “Oh, you’re one of those people, huh?” He asked with a smirk as he sipped a bit of the bland drink. “You don’t like, I don’t know, trying something different?”
“If it’s not broken, don’t fix it?” You offer with a raised brow as you watch him set the water back down. “You’re seriously not drinking tonight?”
He shook his head as he closed the menu and pushed both yours and his to the edge of the table. “No. I want to be sober the whole time so I can remember this night with vivid detail. I think you deserve that,”
Your face heated up as you cleared your throat, his words doing a number on you as you sat up a bit. “What are you getting?” You quickly change the subject as you felt the sudden urge to kiss the guy you’ve been avoiding for months now. 
“What are you getting?” He asked back and you narrowed your eyes as you told him your usual order. “Perfect, I’ll get that too. Maybe I’ll like it enough to order it every time I come here.”
And that was how you found yourself eating identical meals not long after, and a blush seemed to be stuck on your face as you answered every single question he had for you. Your favorite color, your favorite song, the teacher you hated most in high school, your worst dating experience, all of it.
For some reason, this wasn’t bad. This wasn’t bad at all. Talking with Jake felt easy, like you could do it all the time and never complain about it. Why was this shaping out to be kind of the perfect first date? Why was he kind of being the perfect gentleman? 
He seemed so interested in you, like how he was during the build ups to him eventually asking you out. You were beginning to feel bad about constantly saying no, because you were actually having a really good time with him. 
“Well?” You started as Jake asked for the bill. “How was it? Will you be returning just to order that every time?” You gestured to the empty plates in front of you and Jake shrugged as he took out his wallet. 
“It wasn’t bad. Your taste in food is pretty decent,” he hummed as the waitress, who had been checking Jake out the whole night and who hadn’t been looked at by him for more than a total of six seconds, placed the bill on the table. You reached for your own wallet but he stopped you and handed you his keys instead. “Don’t worry about it, sweetheart. Wait in the truck for me, okay?”
You take the keys from him and give the waitress a soft smirk as you stand up, noticing the scowl that had formed on her face as she heard the affectionate nickname Jake gave you. 
Less than a minute later, Jake was beside you in his truck again as he backed out of the parking space with one hand. You were feeling a bit shy now as you looked over at him and took in just how handsome he actually is. “Thanks for tonight,” you say quietly as he pulls out onto the road. “It was kinda…it was fun.”
“You think it’s over?” He laughed softly as he glanced over at you in the dark truck. “I only get you to myself for one night, you really think I’m just taking you out to dinner?”
Your face heated up for the hundredth time tonight as you quickly broke eye contact. “Oh…where else are we going?”
Jake looked back at the road as he drove with one hand, and you were sure he wasn’t aware of just how hot that was. “To the place we first met,” he answered simply and your eyes widened a bit as you laughed.
“The Hard Deck?”
“Yeah,” he grinned over at you. “I have to show at least one person from work that I actually managed to get you to go out with me. And Bird Boy doesn’t count.”
You weren’t entirely sure why, but that had you smiling like a love struck teenager the whole ride, and when you arrived at the Hard Deck, you allowed Jake to lead you inside with his hand placed firmly on your hip. 
A few of his coworkers smirked at him, a few looked beyond shocked, and then there was Bradley, who avoided eye contact with you as soon as you entered the bar. Okay, so maybe you wouldn’t be yelling at him later. 
The Hard Deck was rowdy as usual, but Jake wasn’t paying attention to anyone but you, and you realized just how much you liked being the center of his attention. 
And he was completely sober as he held you in his arms as the two of you swayed to an old song playing on the jukebox. He looked content and so handsome, you had to look away as you mumbled, “Okay, so maybe this isn’t so bad after all,” and pressed the side of your face against his chest. “You kind of planned the most perfect first date, Jake. I’m actually so surprised.”
Your head vibrated a bit when he laughed and tightened his hold on you as if he was scared to let you go. “Well, when you’re determined to make someone fall head over heels for you, you’ve got to put in a bit of effort,” he said and your whole body heated up in a blush. “So, uh…does this mean there’s gonna be a second date?”
You pull back slightly and look up at him. “That depends on you,” came your quiet response as you slid your hands up his back. “You’ve been the most perfect gentleman tonight, and you’ve been so sweet, but will it be like this every time? Or was this just a show for tonight?”
Jake lifted a hand and brushed some of your hair behind your ear, his thumb stroking your cheek after. “You deserve to be treated right, and I want to be the person to do that. I want to be the perfect guy for you, Y/n. You’re special to me,” he said and sounded so genuine, you had no choice but to believe his words. “Give me a chance to show you that I’m not the stuck up ladies man you think I am. I’m falling for you…and I don’t want to mess this up.”
There it was. Jake had just put his heart on his sleeve for you, and now it was completely up to you what happened next. 
You press your lips together and look down at the wooden floor of the bar. “I was wrong about you. You’re not the player I thought you were. And honestly, I don’t care about how many women you’ve been with. The guy you’ve been tonight…it’s a different side of you, Jake. Or maybe it’s who you’ve been this whole time and I’ve just been too stubborn to see it,” you murmur and place your hands flat on his chest as you look back up at him. “The guy you are right now, I can see myself with him. With you. Tonight has been…perfect, in every single way. You’ve been perfect, Jake.”
There was your own confession that, early this morning, you would’ve never said out loud, but things had clearly changed. 
Jake smiled and leaned down to brush his lips against yours in a teasing kiss. “You haven’t seen anything yet, sweetheart,” he whispered against your mouth before pulling back to look into your eyes. “So why don’t we skip right to the part where you agree to a second date?” He asked in a deep voice as he wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you closer to him.
You laughed, looking up at him with unguarded eyes. “I think it’s safe to say you got that second date. And the third. And the fourth,” you grinned, curling your fingers around his jacket as your gaze intensified a bit. “Tell me something, does the perfect gentleman kiss on the first date? Because that teaser you just gave me wasn’t nearly enough to satisfy what I’m feeling right now.”
Jake’s smile grows before he leans down and presses his lips to yours in a searing kiss. It starts off somewhat soft, and he lets you take the lead as you kiss him a bit deeper, and then his tongue was pushing past your lips and brushing against yours. 
It was clear from the kiss that he had been holding back his desire for you for months, and you suddenly didn’t regret pushing him away so much, because it allowed you to feel every inch of his want for you with every brush of his mouth against yours. 
After a few more seconds, he breaks the kiss. “There you go,” he murmured, his thumb brushing against your puffy bottom lip. “But that’s just one of many. I plan on kissing the fuck out of you on every single one of those future dates.”
A content hum leaves your lips, a feeling of excitement for the future settling in your bones as you lean up and kiss him again. Soon enough you’d become addicted. You were sure of it. 
Your fingers slide into his hair as the music continues to play and the patrons of the bar chat amongst themselves, not paying either of you any attention as you lose yourselves in each other. 
Jake’s hands grip your waist tighter, pulling your chest against his. “You’re mine now, Y/n,” he mumbled when he finally broke the kiss after a few minutes, and you held back a squeal at just how good that sounded. “I’ll make you happy, I swear it.” 
You bite down on your lip and trace the sides of his face with your fingers. “Any chance the perfect gentleman takes me to bed on the first date?” You playfully asked, but you were also very serious, even if you thought that you should probably wait to have sex. Maybe until the second date. That seemed long enough. 
“Patience, baby,” he rasped, tugging at your bottom lip with his thumb. “A perfect gentleman knows how to build anticipation.”
He tucks a few strands of hair behind your ear as you hum quietly, threading your fingers through the hair on the back of his neck as you try not to squeal again at the cute pet name. 
“Besides, I have a feeling you’re going to be worth the wait. I know it’ll be…fucking amazing between us,” he added, brushing another soft kiss to your lips. “Don’t worry, but by the end of our second date, I’ll give it to you so good, you’ll still be sore when we go on our third date.” 
You grin excitedly and nod. “It’s okay,” you whisper, “I can wait. I know that now, Jake. You’re worth the wait.”
Jake smiled down at you before kissing you one last time then taking your hand and leading you towards the bar. 
-
A couple weeks, and several dates later, you and Jake are officially together and crazy in love with each other. 
The realization that you had only pushed him away for so long because you were so into him was a tough pill to swallow, but when you finally got it down, you threw yourself headfirst into this relationship with him, and neither of you planned to look back. 
It became official shortly after the first date, where he drove you home, kissed you sweetly, then left you wanting more. By the end of the second date, Jake stayed true to his promise and fucked you so good into his mattress, you were addicted by the time the sun came up. 
You’d both been insatiable since then, which wasn’t all that surprising. The chemistry between you two had been undeniable from the start, so of course the sex was fucking amazing. 
Now, having just gotten back to his place after your eighth date, you and he can’t keep your hands off one another as you stumble through his front door, your mouths connected and your hands all over each other. 
You pull off his jacket and let it fall to the floor of the entryway while he helps you slide off your heels, your mouths meshing noisily together. He kicks the door shut before reaching down to grab the backs of your thighs, never breaking the kiss as he lifts you into his arms. He begins to walk towards his bedroom, his hands gripping your thighs tightly as he pulls away. “I’m gonna take you slow and deep tonight,” he mumbled against your lips. “Wanna drag it out this time.”
He was referring to the previous date, when he fucked you hard and fast into his couch while you screamed your throat raw, and the reminder of it just turned you on even more. 
Jake lays you down on his bed before standing back up and working on ridding himself of his belt. You lean back on the bed, pulling your dress off to leave you in a matching black lace lingerie set that paired sinfully well with your thigh high stockings. 
Leaning back on your elbows, you spread your thighs and beckon him to you with a curl of your finger. “Come here,”
Jake’s eyes darken as he takes in the sight of you. He’s seen you naked countless of times by now, but seeing you in something so effortlessly hot was something else, especially since he knew exactly what the black fabric was hiding from him. 
His hands reach down to pull off his belt and he shrugs off his clothes, leaving on his boxer briefs for now and showing off just how hard you made him through the thin material. 
Crawling onto the bed, he positions himself between your thighs, his lips peppering kisses along your stomach as his fingers tease the edge of your panties. “God, you’re fucking stunning,” he mumbled, running his fingers over the flimsy fabric. “Tell me, baby, were these expensive?”
You hum, looking down at him as you shrug. “A little, but not too bad,”
Jake smirked, mumbling a quick, “Good,” before he ripped the delicate fabric and tossed it aside, revealing your slick folds to his needy eyes. 
“Jake!” You gasped, your eyes widening as his big hands gripped the backs of your thighs and spread your legs a bit wider. 
“I’ll buy you more, one in every color,” he promised, grinning up at you before looking back down at your heat. He runs his fingers through your wetness, a satisfied hum leaving his mouth, “You’re so wet for me, baby. All for me.”
Then he was burying his face between your thighs, his tongue poking out to lick a stripe up your entrance before sucking on your clit. “Oh, fuck,” you whined and he groaned, sending a jolt of pleasure up your body. You shuddered, your muscles tightening as you reached down to tangle your fingers in his hair. “Just like that, Jake. Feels so good.”
Jake’s tongue pressed more firmly against your clit while his fingers gathered more of your wetness before sinking knuckle-deep inside you. He fucks them in and out of you as his teeth gently nip at your sensitive bundle of nerves, and you fell back onto his pillow as he devoured you. 
The sight of you looking already so fucked out with your hair draped across his pillow had him refraining from bucking his hips against the bed, because it was something he had been dreaming about seeing for months. He was still kind of shocked that he could now see it whenever he wanted.
“Fuck,” you gasped, arching your back as he guided your legs to rest over his shoulders. Your fingers were pulling on his hair pretty hard, and he fucking loved it. He loved every single second he spent with you, and he couldn’t get enough of your sweet taste, your soft moans and the fact that you had finally, finally given him the chance he’s been craving for so long. 
You were finally his, and he was never letting you go. 
“Cum for me,” he mumbled, flicking your clit with his tongue as he curled his fingers deep inside you. “Cum all over my face, baby. Let me taste it.”
If there was one thing Jake knew how to do, it was to spew the most filthy fucking things to you. And he knew you loved it. He found that out pretty quickly the first time he took you to bed, and he was more than willing to delve into your desire for dirty talk. 
Like he suspected, your mouth parted in a loud moan as you tugged harshly on his hair, and a second later you were coming on his tongue and fingers. “Jake…holy fuck, baby,” you moaned as you writhed against his face. “Fuck…feels so fucking good.”
The taste of you on his tongue makes him groan, and he continues to ravish your pussy until you’re shaking and whimpering incoherently. Once you settled a bit, Jake lifted his head, his lips and chin soaked with your release as he grins up at you and begins to place kisses along your stomach while he pushes his boxers down. 
He hovers over you, his hands squeezing your breasts through your bra as he teases your quivering heat with the tip of his cock. “I need you, baby,” he mumbled, reaching down to grip his base as he coats himself in your arousal before slowly pushing inside you. “Fuck, you’re tight.” He groaned, dropping his head to your shoulder as he started to slowly rock into you.
His hand moves from your chest to grip your hips as he picks up the speed a bit, his body fitting perfectly against yours with each deep thrust,
“There you go,” he rasped, kissing along your neck. “Take it all, baby, every inch.”
You moan loudly as you arch your back, and you guide his hands around you to the clasp of your bra. “Fuck, Jake, you feel so good,” you whimpered, wrapping your legs tightly around his waist. 
Jake hums, expertly unclasping your bra before guiding the straps down your arms, all while keeping the pace of his thrusts. His eyes immediately lock onto your breasts, now bare to his dark eyes as they bounce with every movement. “You’re a fucking dream,” he mumbled, leaning down to wrap his lips around one of your nipples as he rocks his hips against yours. “You make me lose control, every single time.” He grunted through ragged breaths, his cock brushing against every hidden spot deep inside you. 
“Jake,” you moan desperately, guiding his mouth to yours in a messy kiss. “I love you.”
He groans, kissing you again as he feels himself close to coming already because you felt that fucking good. “I love you, too,” he rasped, his words muffled against your mouth. “So fucking much.”
You moaned, tugging on his hair as you lazily met his thrusts halfway. “I’m close,” you mumbled and he groaned in both pleasure and relief as he reached down to rub circles against your clit. 
“Me too,” he muttered, pinching and pulling at your bundle of nerves. “Cum with me, baby. Let go for me.”
A few seconds later, you were coming for a second time, but on his cock, and a couple thrusts later, he was too. He filled you up as his body shuddered, his lips pressing soft kisses to your neck as he fucked his seed deep inside you. 
Once you were both spent, he collapsed gently on top of you, keeping his cock lodged inside you as he cuddled you against his chest. “Stay with me tonight,” he begged quietly, turning you both on your sides and tucking your head under his chin. 
You smiled, nuzzling against his sweaty chest. “Where else would I be?”
Jake smiled back, pulling you impossibly closer. “What about tomorrow? Will you stay here tomorrow, too? We can have breakfast in bed,” he offered with a teasing grin on his lips. 
You hummed, pressing a kiss to his jaw. “Pancakes or waffles?” You ask instead of answering him, confirming that you will be staying at his place for the remainder of the weekend. 
“Pancakes,” he replied, pulling back to press a chaste kiss to your lips. “And bacon. A fuckton of it.”
Even though this wasn’t the first time you would be spending the night in his arms, Jake still felt beyond happy that, after months of pining over you, he was given the chance to experience life with you. He was also really fucking excited to spend tomorrow morning with you in his bed. 
“I’ve wanted this for so long,” he mumbled, holding you a bit tighter. “Wanted you.”
You go silent for a few seconds before pulling back to press a soft kiss to his lips. “I’m sorry I made you wait so long,” you whispered, tracing the curve of his bottom lip with your finger. “Truthfully, I didn’t think it could be this good. I was so wrong.”
Jake shakes his head, taking your hand in his and pressing a few kisses to your knuckles. “Don’t be sorry,” he said quietly. “It was worth it, all of it, if it meant we’d end up like this. Together.”
He leaned down to kiss you deeply, and you returned it instantly. “I love you,” you mumbled against his lips as you gently gripped his face. 
“I love you, too,” he said back and meant it with his whole heart as he rolled you onto your back again and settled on top of you.
Because without a doubt, his heart had been entirely yours since the second he saw you, and he knew that, he was just finally able to make you see it too.
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cherib3lla · 1 day
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𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐓𝐍𝐈𝐓𝐄 ; 𝐂𝐇𝐑𝐈𝐒 𝐒𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐎𝐋𝐎
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warnings — not proofread :( pet names (baby), complete fluff !!
a/n — this is my first fluff fic/blurb so please give me feedback !! i’ve also seen many fics/blurbs like this so credit to the people who have made story’s like this <33 enjoy!
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Chris and Matt had been streaming for more than three hours. Ever since Nick had gone on tour with Madison they've been streaming an insane amount. Not that anyone was complaining. The fans loved it.
They typically streamed until late at night. Starting around six or seven o'clock and not ending until at least ten. Even sometimes streaming twice in one night.
You streamed with them for an hour or two. Playing different games with them until you eventually get tired. That's what led you here, sleeping in Chris’ bed while he and Matt played Fortnite.
This was the second stream of the night. You had fallen asleep somewhere in between streams. Chris and Matt started playing Fortnite for the third time that night while you slept.
Everyone knew how mad that game made them. It was unavoidable. Screaming, banging, and chair throwing surrounded the house. To you, it was never that serious. Just a stupid game that they liked to play.
You were wrapped comfortably in Chris’ blankets. Head between two pillows to try and muffle the sound of everything around you. To be frank, it didn't work at all.
“WHAT THE FUCK MATT. GET OVER HERE.” Chris yelled at the screen. Matt yelled back, you could hear him from upstairs. “THIS IS ALL YOUR FUCKING FAULT CHRIS!”
You slowly open your eyes, accepting defeat. You are still in Chris’ bed, out of frame. You sit up with a huff, hair messy, and lips puffy. You wrap the blanket around yourself, get out of bed, and walk over to where Chris is sitting at his desk.
“MY FAULT? YOURE THE ONE WHO-” he gets cut off by your soft hand on his shoulder, tapping gently to get his attention.
“Chris, please come to bed it's almost — three am,” you state as you look in the bottom right corner of his computer. Unbeknownst to the two of you the chat was speeding by with ‘hi’s and ‘good morning’s directed to you.
“I'm sorry — did I wake you?” Chris replys. You wanted to make a snippy comment and say ‘Yeah no shit’, but you didn't. Too tired to really say anything anymore. But you did anyway.
“Yes, now can you please come to bed? It's almost three,” you repeat. “Of course baby — go lay back down I'll be there in a second!”
He leans up to peck your lips. You dodge it playfully and turn to walk back to his bed. His jaw drops. Ha couldn't believe you just did that in front of thousands of people.
‘Damn’ ‘LMAOOO CHRIS GOT REJECTED’ fills the chat. He turns back to the computer, saying bye to the stream and Matt. “Bye, guys! Love you all” he throws up a peace sign, logs off the discord, and turns off his computer.
He spins his chair around to see you under the blankets with your phone in hand. He walks over to you, gets under the covers, and pulls you against his chest. “I missed you baby,” he says through a yawn.
“Chris I was literally two fe-” he cuts you off with shushing noises.
“Shhhh — you're way too far away. Now go to sleep”
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a/n — hiii, i hope you guys enjoyed!! this is super short but i hope it succeeded your expectations.
tag list — @sturniolos--girl-deactivated202 @m0r94n @lovesodakid @sweetreliever @emssturniolo @slxtformatt @prettylameusertbh @conspiracy-ash @probablyoutyappingorsomething @sturniolosandmoree @https-roman @hoeforchrizz @hvlplvss @idontcare4urmom @submattenthusiast
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bakugoushotwife · 2 days
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in my opinion, gojo’s storyline has been handled so so poorly i can’t help but think it’s intentional. it is not bad writing to kill a character—even a beloved character. i know most people will dismiss my criticisms because gojo is so beloved to me and so many others. i’ve said before that i don’t mind if he died. does it hurt? of course, and i would still cry and be sad about it. but there is a beautiful way to do it. with respect and honor for his legacy—for what he has done for your manga, the characters in it, and audiences worldwide. but no…gege chose the path of horror and disrespect. at certain points i’d say to myself, well. this is a dark manga. but essentially gojo is the only character that receives this treatment. since the beginning—since suguru left him, he’s been wondering if he mattered because he was a person, or if he only mattered because he was powerful and useable. we certainly fucking answered that question. he is a weapon and nobody ever cared about him at all!!!
and we knew he was being used—he knew he was being used, but he is selfless. so he did it for his kids. for megumi and yuuji and yuuta—he wanted them to be safe. in these flashbacks it’s exceedingly clear that he knew he would die. again—that’s not my issue. gojo dying to sukuna makes plenty of sense and it would hurt to leave it there. but to give us an afterlife scene where he’s presented a choice—north and south—that concept lead nowhere, that’s truly fucked up. to leave all the subtle clues and hints for no reason but to keep people reading and theorizing his return is fucked up. to continue to use his imagery to promote your manga when you know he’s not even honored in your manga is fucked up. we don’t get a funeral or a grave for him. no one’s spoken about him in chapters despite him fighting for hours against sukuna and damaging him so much that yuuji could win, nothing. yuuta wearing him like a costume and no one is horrified about it. i thought his students WERE different. they weren’t jujutsu society yet. that’s why gojo was their teacher—shaping them into better human beings. how am i supposed to trust in their future when it seems they’re just as cold and heartless as everyone before them? no one has honored gojo in any way since the moment he died. and they’ve forgotten about him. he spent his entire life fighting and no one can even say thank you. gege intentionally used gojo to promote the end of his manga because he knows that gojo fans make up at least half of his fanbase so had we stopped reading when he died, he would have lost a lot of traction. he baited us intentionally, cruelly, and something that transcends storytelling. i’ve truly never seen a mangaka have this sort of vitriol for one of their characters and the people that love him.
we spent the entire last chapter talking about some random fucking mission when we have several unanswered questions and concerns. i thought gege said he wanted this ending to be shocking and something you didn’t see in shonen? tying everything up neatly where no one has any trauma or grief for what they’ve experienced, everyone comes back to life except the one character you hate specifically and choso, defying your own power structures and having everyone laughing into the sunset is exactly how shonen ends so what in the fuck is he talking about??
let me disclaim, this is not megumi hate at all. i love him very much and i am so happy he’s back with the group but like. he shouldn’t be able to even walk. he tanked unlimited void for over 6 minutes whenever that length caused irreversible damage to sukuna himself. not to mention the countless black flashes. so what the fuck? he doesn’t mention gojo at all?? the first time he laughs in this manga is after he reads a note written by his dead fucking caretaker about his dead fucking father? like i don’t believe. random open ended kenjaku/suguru mention just to piss me off, an absolutely no mention of gojos sacrifice or how they’ll miss him. i’m sick to my stomach. gege defiled his memory both in the story and outside of it. wow.
P.S. SUKUNA CARED MORE ABOUT GOJO THAN ANYONE ELSE (SUGURU IS NOT INCLUDED IN THIS I MEAN HIS STUDENTS AND SOCIETY)
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wandaslittlebird · 2 days
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Alright, another professor Wanda drabble because I’m utterly whipped for her.
“I think spoken Russian is going to send me to an early grave,” You complained. “I’m good on the written and comprehension sections but the oral pronunciations…” You groaned dramatically, tossing your ‘Russian 101’ book out in front of you and dropping your arms so you were laying prone on bed.
Wanda picked up the book, reading through the dog-eared page you had been studying. “Is this the one you’re struggling with?” She pointed to one of the longer words at the top of the page. It had been twisting your tongue for hours.
You nodded. Wanda placed the book back in your hands and sat down next to you. “You know all the syllables. Just say it slowly, don’t try to cram the sounds together, just say them one at a time.”
You propped yourself back up on your elbows, squinting and bending forward to study the page. You sounded out the word slowly. Each syllable felt like an entire word of its own. It was by no means an elegant attempt, but it was technically correct.
Wanda slide down on the bed so she could press a kiss onto your lower back. “See?” She said, nuzzling the downward curve of her spine. “You’re getting it. Keep going. Try this one here.” She reached around you to point out a sentence at the top of the next page.
You spoke the words awkwardly and slowly, mentally trying to translate the foreign lettering into sounds. Wanda started tracing her way back up your spine, placing gentle kisses along each ridge.
“You’re a lot better at this than you think you are,” Wanda assured. “I could’ve never guessed this was your first semester taking Russian if I wasn’t the one teaching it to you.”
“Thank you, professor,” you teased. “I believe you’re to blame for my accelerated studies.” You could feel Wanda’s smile curl against your back.
“I suppose that is my job,” She teased, “making sure you excel.”
“Well then you’ll be devastated to know I have someone who’s serving as a terrible distraction to my studies.” You smirked, arching your back against her mouth.
“Mmm,” Wanda hummed. “I’m sure whoever it is knows that you work too hard. And I’d bet she knows that you’re brilliant and you could’ve passed with flying colors without even opening the book.”
“As if she herself isn’t known for working herself to the bone,” you retorted.
“All the more reason to provide her with a wonderful distraction.” Wanda bit gently at the spot your neck met your shoulder. You rolled your head back, mouth falling open in a silent groan. “We can continue your studies, if you wish. Repeat after me: YA ves' tvoy.” (I am yours.)
You reached one hand back behind you, burying it in Wanda’s thick brown hair. You drew her ruby red lips back to your neck, encouraging more kisses and nips from the older woman. “YA ves' tvoy,” you repeated with easy confidence. These words came far easier to you than the long and complicated ones you were pulling from your books.
“You speak beautifully, sweet girl.” Wanda sucked at the skin behind your ear.
Your eyes fluttered at sensation.“devochka milaya,” you said. “Sweet girl.”
“Mhm.” Wanda did not pull her mouth away from the soft skin of your neck. Your words weren’t entirely accurate, as the adjective came after the noun in Russian, but she was in no mood to be pedantic at the moment.
She adjusted her position on the bed, moving to straddle your hips rather than lying beside you. You whined when she pulled away, already missing the warm breath against your neck. The whines turned into moans when Wanda ground against her hips your ass. “I want to hear you say it again. Tell me you are mine,” she demanded.
You obeyed. “YA ves' tvoy,” you said again. The words came even more natural the second time around. “I am yours. I am all yours, my love.”
“YA ves' tvoy, moya lyubov,” She translated, adding in the ‘my love’.
You giggled. “Do you plan to fuck me until I can recite the entirety of the Russian language?”
Wanda chuckled mischievously, bending so her mouth was mere inches from your ear. “My love, by the time I’m done with you, you won’t even remember English.”
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barcaatthemoon · 2 days
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friend of the bride || lia walti x reader ||
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You hook up with Lia at your best friend's wedding.
MINORS DNI, 18+, Smut warning.
You knew about Lia. You had never played against Lia, but you knew all about her. It was your job to know about football, both international and domestic. She hadn't played in the NWSL, but you were a pretty big Arsenal fan even before she had joined up. But even before then, you had heard people in the business talking about the Swiss player.
It made sense that she'd be in the bridal party. Lia was Ana's best friend, and maid of honor. In a way, you thought it was wild that the two of you weren't better acquainted. Obviously you understood Ana being hesitant about introducing the two of you. You were a bit of a womanizer to say the least, even if you had settled down quite a bit since starting your gig as an official NWSL commentator.
"Excuse me, I don't know if we know each other. I'm (Y/n)." You could feel Ana's eyes on you as you approached Lia. There weren't many people that made you nervous, but your best friend's new wife was definitely one of them. The two of you had been teammates years ago whenever Ana played on the Thorns, and maybe, just maybe, you had seen a spark all those years ago.
Nothing had ever come of it, and you were happier because of it. Ana was cool, and she definitely would have hated you whenever you transferred across the country at the end of the year. You weren't a native to New Jersey, but Rutgers had offered you a full ride, so you counted yourself as a bit of a Jersey girl. Sky Blue wasn't perfect by any means, but it was definitely the place that you had wanted to retire playing for.
"I'm Lia, and no, we haven't been properly introduced," she said. She outstretched her hand, and you took the offering. Behind you, you could practically feel Ana attempting to burn holes into the back of your head to deter you. "My friend is watching us."
"If I'm being honest, I don't blame her. She's heard stories of how I can be at weddings." Bashful wasn't something that normally worked well with you, but Lia found the blush cute. It became obvious as she patted the chair in front of her that she knew a bit about you. Ana had to have warned her before either of you arrived in Seattle for the wedding.
"I've heard stories of how you are away from weddings. I get it though, life feels a bit more special with all of this love in the air," Lia said. You thought that she was sweet, and a part of you was about to back out when she grabbed onto your wrist. "I fly out tomorrow afternoon, and I'd hate to leave without as many good memories as I can get."
"She'll kill me if we leave together," you told Lia. She glanced behind you and waved at Ana. You did everything in your power not to turn, but Lia seemed amused by whatever was going on behind you. "Is she being mean?"
"Not at all, but you should say your goodbyes and get your coat. I'm in room 615," Lia told you. She slipped her key card in your pocket, and you wondered how long she had been watching you. Lia left first, leaving you to sit there stunned for a moment. It was hasty, but you said your goodbyes and promised Ana that you'd be safe with her friend. She was a bit dismissive, but you didn't miss the little twinkle in her eye. If you had any more to drink, you would have considered that she was happy about you and Lia running off together.
It seemed almost too good to be true that Lia's room was on the same floor as yours. You made a quick stop at your own room to shed your suit jacket and make sure that you still looked good. Your room was only a few doors down from Lia's, and you wondered if she had seen you at all over the week. The entirety of the wedding party had been flown in several days earlier than all of the other guests, and you doubted the maid of honor had been an exception to that.
"You left your jacket. That's a shame, it looked good. At least I can still do this," Lia said as she grabbed you by your tie and pulled you into the room. You stumbled a little, but caught yourself as Lia's arms wrapped around your shoulders. She was still in her dress, but without her heels on, you were a couple inches taller than her. "You know, I had always hoped you would find your way to the WSL. I would have liked to play against you."
"I bet we could have had a lot of fun together." Lia seemed to catch onto the hidden meaning of your words quickly. You were a bit surprised by her forwardness as she kissed you. It was welcome, as was the feeling of her hands pulling your button out from where it had been tucked into your pants.
The women you hooked up with had all definitely wanted you, but they were rarely as confident in themselves as Lia. She was sweet and gentle, but it wasn't submissive in the slightest. She took what she wanted without overstepping, and it took you several moments for your brain to kick in and join her.
"Take my dress off," Lia told you. You didn't hesitate for even half a second to turn the Swiss woman around. There was a little clasp by the small of her back, and once it was undone, Lia let the dress slip off from her body and pool onto the floor.
You could see that her chest was bare, but that did nothing to prepare you for the sight of her. She stood in front of you completely topless. You weren't being subtle in your staring, but Lia didn't seem to mind it. She let you keep staring as she pushed you back onto the bed. Lia climbed onto your lap, and there she sat straddling you as she looked down at you.
"There are plenty of more comfortable places for you to sit," you started. Lia showed her amusement with a little half-smirk. Normally, your jokes garnered a bit more of a reaction, and the fact that she hadn't given you one made you want to try again. You wanted to impress this woman with every part of you, and you had no idea why. Nobody was supposed to mean this much to you, not for a single night anyway.
"I'm already practically naked on top of you, lines aren't necessary," Lia told you. You nodded and swallowed, somewhat nervous as she stared at you. It was like she was studying you, less out of curosity, but more in the way a predator would study its prey. "You're wearing too much, and I'd hate to ruin your very nice suit."
You nearly let out a whine as Lia moved off of you. You scrambled off of the bed and hastily undressed yourself, not caring that for a moment, you were more bare than she was. Lia hummed in appreciation as you stood in front of her, completely naked. She guided you down onto your knees in front of her and leaned over her own lap to kiss you.
"Show me what you can do. I hope everything I've heard about you is true," Lia said. Even after she broke the kiss, you didn't stop kissing her. Your mouth moved all over her neck and jaw, occasionally stopping to mark a couple of hickeys for her to take as a temporary souvenir. You were a lot less careful with your marking whenever you got to her chest, sucking as many love bites onto her skin as you could.
Lia tried not to rush you, but you could tell that her patience was growing thin. She ground herself against the palm of your hand as you cupped her over her underwear. You let out a pleasured groan at the feeling of her heat through the fabric. You could practically feel her arousal growing as she moved against your hand.
"More, I want more," Lia told you. You took your time teasing her as you took her underwear off. Your face was buried into the side of her thigh when your attention was pulled by a frustrated growl. Lia looked down at you with a look so sweet that you almost got whiplash from the way her hand balled into a fist around your hair.
You let her guide your face, only sticking your tongue out to give her something to seek out. Lia loosened her grip when she felt your lips wrap around her clit. Her thighs clamped around your head, holding you against her as she rocked her hips back and forth gently. You pried her thighs apart to make room for your fingers to tease at her entrance, stroking over the hole with the promise of penetration.
This time, Lia didn't have to ask or tell you to keep going. Once you got into your groove, everything came very naturally to you. Lia was moving wildly on the bed, each buck of her hips punctuated by a little creak of the bed. Between Lia's moaning, the bed creaking, and the absolutely obscene sound of your fingers fucking in and out of her, there wasn't a moment of silence.
"That's it, right there. Don't you dare stop. Oh fuck!" Lia exclaimed. You felt a sharp tug to your hair as her other hand wrapped around the back of your neck. You could feel her nails dig into your skin, but the pain of it just made your eyes roll back in your head a little. Above you, Lia's body held you close even as she tried to squirm away from you, torn between wanting to stop and wanting to see just how hard you could make her cum. Ultimately, she ended up pushing you away just a couple minutes later as her body began to approach overstimulation.
"I think you did a number on me," you muttered as you rubbed at the little nail indents on the back of your neck. Lia sat up on her elbows, just enough to see her reflection in the TV. She looked gorgeous to you, disheleved in the most perfect of ways. There was no denying what had just happened, not when you looked at Lia.
"I can do a lot worse," Lia laughed. You clammed up a bit at her words. You had no idea what was wrong with you because Lia shouldn't have been getting to you this badly. She was practically a stranger, and yet, you didn't want to just gather your clothes and run off to your own room just yet. "If you ever find yourself in London, message me. Now though, I think you should get going. Guests are going to be back any moment now."
"I've never been asked out and kicked out at the same time. You are something else," you said in disbelief. Lia could tell that you weren't angry, and just to keep it that way, she walked you out. A part of you wanted to linger, but aside from a pretty chaste kiss, Lia didn't give you the opportunity. You just had to hope that you'd catch her before she ran off the next day, but even if you didn't, you couldn't be mad about how your night went.
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luveline · 1 day
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Hii! I'm in love with your Hotch adult daughter fics. Could we get one where she is getting bullied in college or where she works and then Hotch finds out somehow and helps her? Please please :)
thanks so much for requesting! fem, 1.2k
He decides to surprise you. He’s at risk of embarrassing himself greatly, and he’s okay with that risk. 
Hotch stands outside of the George Washington University and winces in the hot weather. The sun beats down on the back of his neck. He’s more aware of how little sun protection he uses as the time stretches on, waiting for you, but he doesn’t mind it. He’s worn full suits in the Nevada desert. 
You emerge from the main building where your last class for the day takes place. He dropped you off here last week, got to watch you walk in and say hi to the custodian. It was a nice insight of who you are, someone he’s proud to be the father of though he had little hand in what you’ve become. 
Behind you are two female classmates. 
Hotch pauses under the tree he’d taken refuge by. 
He can’t hear what they’re saying, but he can see the rigidity of your shoulders, your hackles rising as they talk. The brunette gets a nasty look on her face, to which you respond, and the blonde’s volume begins to rise. 
The brunette looks like she might reach for you. “Don’t touch me,” you warn. 
Hotch steps in. 
“Hey, excuse me,” he says, loudly and firmly, the Unit Chief tone in play. He’s gotten very good at raising his voice without shouting. “What’s going on here?”
The two women who were talking to you falter, but the brunette stays fiery. “We’re just talking.” 
“About what?” 
“It’s none of your business.” 
“If you’re going to lay your hands on her, it becomes my business,” he says. 
There’s a guilt to the blonde’s expression that proves you’d been thinking correctly and that she was going to touch you, even if it were only to grab your wrist, but she bristles and denies. “We weren’t.” 
“Then you have no reason to stay.” 
You frown deeply. “No, they can finish. Clearly they think it’s important–”
“But do you think it’s important?” Hotch asks you. 
Your frown, your anger beginning to ebb. You take a breath. “I suppose not.” 
Hotch levels the women with a look. Just a look, not interrogative or heated, but prompting —it’s the kind of look he gives people when he wants them to realise they’ve missed their cue to leave. 
“See you next week, then,” the brunette says, a threat he abhors. 
“I’m sure she will,” he says, hoping anything unsaid is felt. He has no idea who they are or what you’ve apparently done to make them angry, but you won’t be intimidated. 
“Do I need to talk with Dean Langley?” he asks, turning to you as the women walk out of hearing range. 
“Aaron.” You look at him, look like him, not in appearance but the pinch to your brow as you rub the bridge of your nose. “I’m sorry you had to deal with that.” 
“What?” 
“They do it to me every time I’m here.” 
“They do?” 
You sound like it’s a chore. “They think I’m sleeping with our professor.” 
“Why would they think that?” 
“Because ever since I stopped working, my grades are much better, n’ they think I cheated my way there.” 
Oh, of course. Hotch tries to do something good by you —he’s started giving you a little chunk of money every week so you don’t have to work anymore, nothing obsequious but enough to cover everything you need, rent and food and transportation, clothes, textbooks, and he made it clear you can ask for more— and it makes things worse for you instead. Still, “Your grades are improving?” 
“I’m doing pretty well,” you confess shyly. 
He holds your shoulder. “I’m sorry they’re jealous, and I’m sorry they’re inventing a narrative to cope. I really can speak with Dean Langley if you need me to.” 
You smile and let yourself lean into his touch. “Inventing a narrative to cope,” you repeat. “That’s a good one. I’ll use that one.” 
You have more fight in you, it seems. “If it gets too much, just let me know. You don’t have to entertain their delusion.” 
“I’ll use that one, too.” 
He laughs, hand sliding behind your back to hug you from the side, his nose briefly pressing to your temple before he gives you space again. “I was hoping I’d catch you on your way out, are you busy? Let me take you to dinner, celebrate your performance.” 
“You realise I wouldn’t have improved without your help?” you ask. 
“I think any parent in my position should provide for their kid,” he says easily. “It’s not help. Not everyone can support their children through college, but I can, and I wish I had been from the start.” 
“You don’t owe me anything,” you say. 
He nudges you into a walk toward his car. “I owe you more than you realise.” 
He takes you to an early dinner, and celebrates your improving grades with the dessert of your choosing. Conversation with you can sometimes feel strange. It’s hard to think you were a kid once and he’d never met you, but then he realises how young twenty two really is, how you’re still willing, longing for him to be a father to you. You’re smug that he’d go to the dean to for you. You like that he stepped in. And you love being doted on, being encouraged. He can see that easily. 
“When can I come back to see Jack?” you ask eventually. 
He wishes he could say whenever you like, but he has a hard time following Haley’s movements. “I’ll ask. Soon, I promise.”
“He took great care of me.” 
The last time you’d stayed over, Jack acted like you were the best thing since sliced bread (which you are, in Hotch’s eyes). 
“You know, he had a little trouble with bullies last year.” 
“They aren’t bullies,” you say, taking a bashful bite of your ice cream. 
“No, of course not. But he’ll understand, if you want to tell him about it.”
“Aaron, he’s five.” 
“He’s six,” he corrects. 
“Oh, sorry. But still, I don’t think Jack wants to deal with that. I couldn’t unload on him, he’s my… you know, he’s my little brother.” 
“Then tell me about it, at least.” 
“You saw the most of it.” 
He sighs. Wishes you’d call him dad, understands why you don’t, and can’t think of what to do. It was easier when Jack had trouble, because little kids bully each other almost on accident. They don’t know what they’re doing is wrong, having learned the behaviour from their parents. It’s almost never personal. 
Your situation is not the same. 
“I’ll talk to the dean,” he suggests again. 
“Don’t bother. It’s alright. And if it gets worse, I’ll tell you.” 
He smiles, reaching over plates to squeeze your hand briefly. “Thank you.” 
You look down at your food. Some shyness to you still at being cared about. “Thank you,” you mumble. 
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