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mv1simp · 13 hours ago

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Often ♥️

Mafia!Max Verstappen x Reader

she asked me if I do this everyday, I said often (asked her how many times she rode the wave, not so often)

You’re a hard working, intelligent medical student - at the top of her class. Desperate to pay off your debts, you end up bartending in Monaco’s most exclusive nightclub….and catch the eye of the mafia boss who runs half the city, Max Verstappen. And now that he’s found you, he’s never letting you go.

Content includes: 18+ MDNI, smut, size kink, dom/sub themes, dark mafia!max, innocent student! reader tryna pay her bills, sugar daddy vibes

It had truly meant to be a one time thing. You’d been strapped for cash, as per usual - stretching yourself thin with your overpriced rent in your tiny one bedroom apartment in a dodgy area, with your utility bills, your parent’s monthly mortgage payments. And of course, the costliest expense of all was your goddamn medical degree. You were in your final year, so close to the end that you could almost taste it.

Maybe that’s what made you say yes to one of the other tutors you work with at your university tutoring job, when she sees you at your second job later than evening tidying up at a local clinic, and then your third the next morning where you hand her a fresh iced coffee you’ve brewed. You know, she says in a hushed tone, leaning in rather conspiratorially. You’re going to work yourself to the bone, with three jobs and putting yourself through med school?

You wave her off with a practised cheerful smile, used to hiding your tiredness from your peers who all thought of you as a model student. But when she persisted, texting you the details of her mysterious cousin who worked at some bar downtown and earned one thousands dollars in a single night…you couldn’t help but being intrigued. You were cautious about it, of course, asking to meet the cousin - Layla - at the coffee shop you worked at. And when she told you about the VIP club, JimmyZ, that she worked at - nothing like those sleazy stripclubs downtown, she hastily reassured, seeing the nervous look on your face. No, JimmyZ was an exclusive club, only for the rich and elite who enjoyed throwing stacks of cash for bags of cocaine and exotic dancers. That’s what Layla called herself, but you still privately think it’s a glorified term for a stripper, as you watch her on stage from your corner in the bar with mixed feelings of awe at how sexy she looks, and discomfort from the sleazy gazes on her.

You’d somehow been talked into helping bartend for a night, Layla having mentioned that you were the perfect girl for the kind of men who came to JimmyZ. At your insulted expression, she giggled, saying that she was trying to saw you had an angelic, natural beauty about you, exactly the kind of authenticity the clientele liked to see instead of the more artificial look found at cheaper clubs. You looked at her skeptically, but still ended up lured in to try and make your rent that month. And after your first night, where you noted impressive amounts of security protecting the gorgeous dancing girls on stage, you felt yourself seduced by the offer of a single night at JimmyZ making up for an entire weeks of your previous job’s earning.

So before you knew it, you’d been working steadily for a couple of months now, finding yourself at a familiar ease behind the bar as you expertly poured drinks and humming the sensual music. You loved the job, with its high pay meaning you had time to focus on your studies again, and last month you’d even topped your class in one of your exams! Of course, it came with its risks - you worked well through the middle of busy weekend nights, many curious and lustful gazes on you from men who enjoyed the skimpy bartender uniform you had to wear. A tight, low cut white button up shirt that showed off your cleavage, and a miniskirt that came dangerously close to flashing someone when you bent over, paired with heeled knee high boots. It was certainly not the type of usual thing you wore, with your conservative full sleeve tops and flattering jeans with scuffed converse that you recycled constantly given your tight budget. But after some adjusting of your long curls hiding your cleavage and avoiding any eye contact skittishly with any man who looked at you too closely, you found yourself falling into an easy rhythm at work.

Until one evening, a Friday night before some big racing event in the city, meaning the club was even more packed that usual with clubgoers overflowing out the entrance and bass thumping down the street. Your boss had found you as you checked in for your late night shift, rapidly saying something about how the owner was visiting tonight and there weren't enough girls for the show, could you help out just this once-

Despite your adamant protests and squeaks that you absolutely could not, would not go on stage, you find yourself shoved into the backstage room to get ready, or risk losing your job permanently, your boss says meanly before storming off. Your lip trembles in anxiety, at the thought of someone recognising you tonight and then seeing you working as a doctor after your graduated. You'd lose your reputation before you could even start your career. You feel lost in the bright makeup room, surrounded by stunning, slim women who had their hair blown own perfectly and makeup done to perfection. You never imagined that you'd have to be up on stage with the beautiful dancers, who you looked so plain standing next too. A few toss you sympathetic looks but are too busy getting ready themselves to help you - until Layla enters and catches sight of your shaking form. She scowls when you tearfully tell her what the boss had said, but gives you a firm pep talk as she quickly helps you get ready. You've barely used any of the dozens of makeup products she has open on the counter, never having had any money to spend on nice clothes or jewellery to spoil yourself with.

But you feel yourself start to settle as she hands you a shot of tequila, then another for confidence, as she guides you through how to navigate the stage, how it was all about faking it till you make it!

You nod determinedly as she coaches you, before quickly getting change into a glittery strappy piece of fabric she hands you, with strappy heels to match. It takes you a few minutes to adjust to the height, but you find yourself being able to walk comfortably in them. When you come out from the side room to show Layla, the rest of the girls in the room stop in their tracks and look at you with renewed interest, yelling out whoops of encouragements about how hot you looked, girl! You flush with the praise, eyeing yourself in the mirror every few minutes as this pretty girl you didn't recognise stared at you. With lush, long curls styled messily, and wide, doe eyed eyes framed in smoky liner and glittery eyeshadow, and full, pouty glossed lips. And your body, which you'd been feeling so insecure about compared to the other dancers, looked undeniably sexy in a shimmery gold minidress that was so short it showed off the swell of your thick ass and chubby thighs invitingly. See, Layla says rather smugly as she comes up behind you. I told you, face of an angel with a body of a dancer. The audience is going to go feral for you.

And she was right, when an hour later and another practise session later, this time with the aid of the other dancers as they critiqued your form, you find yourself on one of the three stages the club had throughout its two levels. If there’s one thing you pride yourself on, it’s being a quick learner. You relax, letting yourself get lost in the music as a sensual song by The Weeknd croons over the speakers. The other girls had told you that dancing could also be fun, empowering, and make you feel in control - and you know understood what they meant as you sway your body enticingly on the stage, running your hands across your tits where your cleavage shows through the low neckline. At least in a club like JimmyZ, which had the reputation of luxury and class to uphold, the dancers wore skimpy outfits but never got fully naked like at a proper stripclub. You made full use of this small mercy, giving teasing flashes of your cleavage and ass but never actually taking your tiny glittery dress off. You could feel dozens of eyes fixed on every movement you made, every toss of your curls, every breathy sigh and bounce of your ass as you let yourself get lost in the beat.

But there's one set of piercing blue eyes that you keep finding your wide eyes returning to curiously. A man you’ve never seen before is seated in one of the VIP lounges a level above and directly in front of your elevated stage. He’s tall and muscular, with messy blonde hair and the most gorgeous eyes you’ve ever seen. And to pull it off, he’s lounging comfortable on a leather sofa, well dressed in a fitted white shirt and jeans, his intense gaze roaming over your dancing body while everyone around him was standing up and hollering towards the dancers on the stage.

He looked like a lion amongst the pack of sheep, and you couldn’t help but bat your lashes in his direction just a bit more as a spark of attraction flutters within you. You've never felt so desirable in your life, and the rush it gives you is addictive. Your show is over before you know it, with enthused yells and demands for an Encore! from the frenzied crowd around your stage as clubgoers migrated to see your show instead of the two others. You giggle coyly, finding this new, confident side of yourself so much more fun than your usual run down, shy one. Stacks of paper notes have been tossed up on your stage and the bouncers dutifully collect it up to bring to you backstage. You blow a kiss into the air for the crowd, but your eyes don’t leave the gorgeous mystery man’s when you do so.

Afterwards, the other girls are laughing and excitedly hugging you backstage, oohing over the stacks of money you’d made and saying you needed to start dancing as a regular at the club, you’d instantly become a favourite! As you giggled their encouragement off, the mood suddenly soured when your boss strode in and said there’s been a request for a private show.

This was the darker, naughtier side of JimmyZ - only offered to the filthy rich VIP clients who could afford the outrageous hourly rate for the prized, beautiful dancers at the club. You’d walked past the closed VIP lounge doors before, your face turning red from the excited moans of male and female pleasure and lewd sounds. It was highly secret, of course, so you’d never known to much about what it fully involved. But you’d have to get to know it tonight, when your boss's finger points past everyone to land on you, to say the request is for our latest dancer, who’s been hiding how much of a natural she is!

Your quickly shake your head, saying you weren’t comfortable with anything more - but your boss says you might want to hear how much he's offering to pay, first. I turned him down, too, saying you weren't one of the regular dancers...but he's very certain he can make it worth your while. When you hear the figure being offered, specifically just for you, your jaw drops. It's enough to pay your shitty rent for two whole months.

You still feel uneasy, because dancing was one thing but to go to a private room was another, and you weren't sure how you felt about using your body for money. In the end, you find yourself curious to go, to get that addictive feeling of desirability and swayed by the security of the income. You’re fully in control, Layla reassures, there’s security in the room the whole time if the client gets touchy. You just have to undress a bit, down to your underwear and give them a show, maybe a lap dance or two. Nothing more than a quick handjob at most, she insists. Then, seeing your face go red as you stammer in response, she pauses to ask that you had done that before, right?

You nod your head quickly, saying yes, of course, I'm 23! You’re too embarrassed to tell her that even though you’re in college, you’ve barely had any sexual experiences and have never had a boyfriend. There was never any time with all the jobs you worked and your full time degree. You’ve had quick, forgettable and sloppy drunk hookups, with uncomfortable fingering that didn’t make you cum or half hearted handjobs at frat parties. You’ve never had sex before, but you know there’s no point freaking out about that now when you’re commited to getting paid tonight. Besides, it was just a quick lap dance probably on some middle aged divorced guy, right?

You can do this, you tell yourself internally, this was nothing compared to dancing in front of hundred of strangers. Maybe this month you’d finally be able to buy some nice dresses and heels to treat yourself with. It can feel good, too Layla had added as she helped you touch up your lip gloss. For your own pleasure, I mean. If you let it, she says with a wink. Remember, you're in control!

When you finally enter the VIP room that night, you're shocked at the man who awaits you. Because it was certainly no sleazy middle aged man. The gorgeous blue eyed blonde from earlier looks up from his conversation at you, his lips quirking up as he sees your golden minidress sparkle in the dim light. You’re too caught off guard to move, but once he dismissed the other men he was talking to with a tilt of his hand, he beckons you over. With a backwards glance to make sure the bouncer stands guard at the door, you take a seat on the comfortable sofa next to him.

It turns out the mystery man isn't just handsome, but friendly, and funny too, with an infectious laugh that makes your heart race. He introduced himself as Max, in a delicious low Dutch accent, and offers you a drink. You politely decline, not wanting to be too disinhibited, but he pours you a glass of expensive whiskey to match the one in his hand anyways. When he asks you for your name, you give him a fake one - but his eyes darken as he tells you he doesn’t think you’re telling him the truth. I’ll call you whatever I want, then, he hums. Schatje seems very fitting for an angel like you. I hope you don’t mind that I asked to see you personally tonight. But the way you danced, I was completely entranced. And then when I saw your pretty face, these big doe eyes...well, I knew I had to meet you. No matter the cost.

You flush under the compliment from such an attractive man, now comfortably sipping on your whiskey. You're the one who's meant to be pleasing him, but it seemed he was more focused on your pleasure. He relaxes you into a surprisingly easy conversation, making you laugh with funny stories about his two house cats. How cute, you say wistfully when he shows you his saved album on his phone. You miss the way his icy eyes hungrily glance down your tempting neckline as you admire the photos, taking advantage of the angle. The tension eases from your stiff form and soon you find yourself leaning in closer to the tall, muscular blonde.

You’re a very charming talker, Max, you say coyly, your newfound confidence emerging as your attraction for him grows. I think you’ve earned your reward. He smirks as you easily climb onto his broad lap, gasping slightly from the feeling of his strong, muscular thighs beneath your soft ones. Soon you’re performing your little routine, giggling and tossing your hair, running wandering hands over yourself, squeezing your juicy tits so they popped in your small hands and make Max’s gaze narrow with desire. Layla had been right. You did feel in complete control, and your pussy throbbed in interest at the gorgeous man whose lap you sat on.

He leans back to appreciate the view and you feel lust cloud your senses from the addicting feeling of those heated blue eyes on you, mixing with the heady feeling from the expensive whiskey he’d offered. And then his fingers are skimming your waist, sending electric sparks shooting from the lightest of touches. You’re not supposed to touch, Max you say with a teasing voice, your playful smile giving away how you really felt. When you untie your dress straps, letting it fall down your waist to show him your chest, barely covered in a see through lacy bra, he lets out a low groan. C’mon, schat, he murmurs huskily. I’m meant to see the prettiest tits in my life and not even kiss them?

You giggle again, running small hands down his shirt as you slowly unbutton him to reveal a muscular, broad chest. He smirks as he watches you bite your lip as your eyes wander all the way down to his blonde happy trail, where your curious fingers have now stopped. What’s the matter, baby, he teases a little twistedly, because he knows exactly what’s stopping you. Never done this before?

You flush, but shake your head adamantly and denying his claim. Of course I have, you say with a defiant look, the competitive nature rising up as you continue to unzip his jeans. He finds your determination so cute, how hard you’re trying to please him, but you give your innocence away with a sudden gasp when his erect cock jumps out of his boxers to rest against his lower abs. It’s so big, you say with a tinge of nerves in your voice at the sight of his drooling, angry red rip. He distracts you with soft kisses to your neck, your cheeks before pressing his lips gently to yours. You can’t resist him either, leaning back in to recapture him in a deeper kiss as you two begin sloppily making out. It’s starting to feel so good, the way his skilled tongue explores your willing mouth, that you eagerly nod when he murmurs he’ll show you how to make him feel good, yeah?

And when his large hand takes yours and presses it right in between his large, spread thighs, he captures your gasps with his lips. He guides your trembling hands over his huge cock, one hand encircling both your palms around him, whispering naughty things in your ear. There you go, sweetheart, right from the tip and then down to the base in a twist, just like that. When you get confident and cutely spit a small glob on his shaft to start pumping him more furiously, he praises you even more. Fuck, you’re a natural, just perfect for me.

You blush under the praise, and together you both watch his cock swell even more with your dedicated handjob. He can’t resist giving you a deep kiss again as he sees the concentrated expression on your face. Doing so good for me, babygirl, Max murmurs as he breaks away for a second, admiring your swollen lips and dazed eyes. Here, let me make you feel good too, hmm?

You squeal in shock as his lips latch right onto your already hard nipples. Ma-Max! No touching, remember! You try to remind him breathlessly. He swirls his tongue around your areolas, one hand still guiding you to jerk him off and his other expertly squeezing and massaging your heaving tits. You very quickly find yourself distracted from his rule break as he spoils your sensitive nipples with attention. So distracted that you stop your handjob, making him pull away again and you whine from the loss of his talented tongue. He resists smirking as you practically push your jiggling tits in his face, your doe eyes begging him for more. I didn’t say you could stop jerking me off, baby, he says in mock disapproval. If you’re not going to be a good girl then you’ll have to say sorry some other way.

You tilt your head in confusion at his statement, when his strong hand tangles into your pretty curls and gently but firmly pushes your head down. Your eyes widen as you realise what he’s asking of you, and you stammer and try to weakly protest. It’s not that you aren’t into this; if anything, Max is the first guy you’ve ever felt such instant chemistry with. No - it’s that this feels so fast, too much too quick for your inexperience and self consciousness. You haven’t even processed just how far he’s planning on taking this and that technically you were selling yourself at some nightclub for his money. Besides, wasn’t there meant to be a guard here to stop the clients going too far? But when you quickly turn your head to look, Max’s hand relaxing briefly to let you peer around, you find yourself only becoming more anxious.

Because there’s no one else in the room.

Where did he go, you say, confused. I don’t understand, I thought he has to keep watch-Schatje, Max murmurs smoothly into your ear. I’m a possessive man. Did you really think I was going to let anyone else get a glimpse of what’s underneath your pretty dress? You gasp, heartbeat now fluttering rapidly from the confession that he’d been so taken with you with one look he wanted you all to himself. You’re half terrified of how much power this man seems to have, and half dizzy with pleasure that he finds you so desirable that he wants to stake his claim. He takes his time working you up again, running hands that were more like a lion’s large paws over your curves while he whispers sweet nothings in your ear, asking if you were ready to be a good girl for him.

A thought plants in your head then, as you nod obediently, and he presses a kiss to your curls to lower your head into his lap again. That Max wasn’t the sweet, gorgeous guy next door type he looked to be. No, this was someone with serious power and money, who apparently controlled the ins and outs of the most luxurious nightclub in the city as if it was his own. And tonight, for whatever reason, he wanted you.

It was just one night, right? You let yourself relax and get lost in the unfamiliar pleasure as you reassure yourself.

This time, your glossy pink lips part easily as you leave curious kitten licks to his cockhead, taking in the salty taste of his precum. He immediately groaned, head tilting back against the sofa as he rasped at you to stop teasing.

You hum in response, sending vibrations through his shaft as you press wet kisses down it. You’re obediently following all the orders he gives to you as he strokes your hair almost gently, licking him up and down. When you finally take him into your mouth, he moans your name in approval, praising how good you were being. But you can barely take half of his length, already feeling your mouth stretch and struggling to breath. Let me take over, baby he says with a dark smirk, and within a second he’s lifted you up and deposited you on the floor, in between his spread legs. You’re trapped by muscular thighs as his grip tightens on you, and then he’s thrusting his hips right to the back of your throat. Fuck yes, there you go, just like that sweetheart, he encourages with a low groan, drowning out your high pitched whines with his jackhammering movements. Mmmh! Obscene, wet sounds of your mouth drooling all over him fills the air, as you choke on the largest cock you’d ever seen. You’re gripping onto him for dear life, your teary eyes making mascara run down your cheeks and only making him more turned on as he ruins your innocent, doe eyed look. And when he cums you don’t expect it, your mouth flooded with unfamiliar white cream that he covers your chubby, blushing cheeks and bouncing tits with as he pulls out mid release and makes a complete mess of your pretty makeup. Heavy pants fill the air as he comes down from his high, looking down at you with raw desire and approval. His thumb swipes his cum off your pouty lips and slides into your lips, smirking when you obediently suck on his finger. You wouldn’t have been able to tell it’s your first time, he teases.

After you clean yourself up in the private bathroom, too embarrassed to look at your positively debauched appearance in the mirror, you find Max signing a cheque that he folds in half that he discreetly leaves on the table. But before he leaves after apologising as he has business to attend to, bending down to your petite frame to give you a sweet kiss, he offers you a deal. To quit your job and be his private dancer, every night…and in turn he’d spoil you with whatever money or gifts your heart desired.

You decline, of course, telling him this was just a one time thing, you weren’t planning on dancing here ever again. He smirks, giving you a final appreciate once over, before declaring that was obvious, he wasn’t going to let another man see you dance like that again.

You don’t see him for a few weeks after that, and it’s almost as if that electric night had never happened at all. Things go back to normal and you resume your bartending job - although you notice that there is significantly more security hovering around your counter than before. But every night Max revisits you in your dreams, making you breathlessly moan from the memory of how good his tongue and hands felt on you, how they might feel inside you next time….you’d always wake up with damp panties.

And then one night everything changes, when a rowdy patron manages to get past the security guards and leer in your face. He remembers you from the dance show and when you try to move away he grabs onto your ass, telling you he wants another sexy performance, he demands with a pervy sneer, I know you secretly liked all the attention, like a slut.

The guards manage to get him off you but you’re shaken with how persistent the man had been. So shaken that you don’t realise the staff have pulled you into a side room until Max is in front of you, asking if you were okay with an intense gaze. He offers you his promise again, to provide for you and protect you - if you became his.

You’re annoyed with him, for just barging in and acting like you were some damsel. You hotly tell him that you're an independent girl, who wasn't going to let him have her in exchange for safety. I can take care of myself! He watched you walk off with a dark gaze, his blue eyes roaming your curves that he was desperate to get underneath him. And whatever Max Verstappen wanted, he always got.

The very next day chills run through your blood as the rowdy patron somehow turns up at your university campus. You quickly hide before he sees you, heart rate spiking as you realise he's found out who you are. Your pride melts away as you dial the number Max's men had put onto your phone despite your protests. Now, you're thankful that they did as a husky Dutch accent picks up. You're a mess on the call, crying and asking Max to please come and help-

I'm on my way, schatje. Go hide somewhere safe. After you hang up you realize you never told him where you were. But it doesn't matter, because the Dutch Lion is there within minutes, stepping out of a sleek black Aston Martin that looks like it costs more than all 5 years of your student debt. Your stalker doesn't stand a chance as he's pushed into a back alley easily by Max, who re-emerges a few moments later discreetly tucking what you're pretty sure is a handgun into his belt. You stare in stunned silence as he gestures to some men who have appeared to clean up whatever mess he left behind, before guiding you with a firm hand on your lower back into his luxurious car.

Still want to turn down what I can offer you, schatje? he murmurs lowly as he smoothly drives you home, his large hand resting on your thigh. And you realise that you don't, because for the first time in your life you don't have to fight tooth and nail to protect yourself. No - because Max had just proved he was willing to do that for you.

So you let yourself be worshipped, be cared for by him. And he knew how skittish you got, and started with baby steps - paying your phone bills, your groceries, and then your rent. Buying whatever handbag or necklace you would happen to briefly admire when walking past a shop, getting you a cute but outrageously expensive car so you stopped taking the train. And you can't lie about how good it feels to walk into class wearing diamond earrings and the Louboutin heels you'd always wanted, to have your mean classmates look at you in awe and envy.

And so when Max insisted that he couldn't let you stay at the dump you called a home any longer, that it was just unsafe for a sweet, precious thing like yourself - you barely resisted and moved into his spacious penthouse apartment. Truly, he gave you whatever you wanted, his toy that he spoils and lavishes however she likes - and at night, lets him climb into her bed to fuck however he wants. And oh, did he fuck you good. It became a habit for you to greet him after his late night meetings with a sweet kiss on the cheek and a gin on the rocks in your hand - which he would drink with you sitting on his lap, telling him animatedly about your day. And of course, he’d get to unwrap his present when he pulls off your silk nightie and widens his legs for you to kneel between them. Dressed in pretty pastel scraps of French lace you buy with his credit card, you’re dutifully slurping and kissing his thick, swollen cock and slapping it against your cheeks. You knew how much Max loved seeing his cum drip down your face and you’d make sure to wear extra eyeliner and lipgloss so he could enjoy the sight of you utterly ruined for him, stroking your mascara tear stained cheeks as you choke on his length. Such a fast learner, schatje Max chuckles at you, stroking your hair almost lovingly but the roughness of his thrusts anything but.

And most of all, you loved when Max would pick you up from class and casually announce that he was taking you away for the weekend. You’d been confused at first, stressed about the study time you were missing out on, but once you sit down in his private jet with you laptop and textbooks in hand you realise you’re truly going to be taken care of in every way. It’s impossible to resist the urge to give back the same to Max, to show him just how much affection you’ve started growing for him. So on those nights in some tropical island resort, with the breeze blowing in through open doors, you give him a free use pass. Whatever he wanted, however he wanted it - all weekend long. It’s to no surprise that you’re chained to the headboard within the hour, thighs tightly tied up around your waist so you’re spread open for him and he could see the wetness dripping through your lace thong. You’re whining, so embarrassed by how intently his heated gaze roams over your body that it’s a relief when he blindfolds you with his tie, and clips a collar around your neck with his initials gleaming from it. He teases you mercilessly, taking you right to the edge with his fingers or tongue but stopping just before you cum, until you’re screaming his name and begging him to fuck you already. And then he takes you for so many rounds that you’re crying for him to stop, it’s too much Maxie, you can’t cum a fourth time-

It’s safe to say you’ve grown into your place by Max’s side very well. You knew what others thought, from the jealous looks from your classmates when his Aston Martin rolls onto campus or the judgemental stares from other vacationers when you obediently sit in Max’s lap while he takes his business calls, dressed in a skimpy bikini and his collar that he absentmindedly traces before moving down to possessively curl his hand on your hip. But you couldn’t care less if they thought you were a trophy girlfriend or a sugar baby - because after all, he was the one wrapped around your pretty little finger, ready to wage a war if you so much as shed a tear.

And you wouldn’t have it any other way.

#max verstappen x reader #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen fanfic #max verstappen #max verstappen smut #f1 imagine #f1 smut #f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #max verstappen x you #18+ mdni #mafia au

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coffeekenzie · 16 hours ago

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I worked for a startup for a few years that was trying to make beanless coffee (like impossible foods but coffee) and the early stages of said product development was just harvesting the microbes from coffee farms and fermenting anything and everything with it and then roasting and brewing it.

I don’t even think I could tell you what the worst things actually WERE because after a 6 week fermentation with wild soil microbes it does not resemble any food whatsoever. More like a solid state fermentation of a vegetarian’s vomit that I then had to dehydrate and force through some approximation of the Maillard reaction and brew in a French press. And collect tasting notes from the team, for science.

I have no idea how many aflatoxins we ingested during this time. I had a couple of what I suspect were penicillium-related allergic reactions.

Also turns out a few of the ingredients we worked with were toxic because lots of seeds and legumes need to be boiled to be safe and fermenting then roasting isn’t an appropriate alternative. There was that one nut that made all our mouths numb for a few hours.

Don’t work for a early stage food startup yall.

what is THE worst thing you've ever drank. all liquids acceptable. please tell me what it was, bonus points for why

#osha disapproves #food science #coffee science #startup life

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theemporium · 1 day ago

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a luke blurb where him and his gf don't show much pda but quin and jack accidentally walk in on them making out? i feel like it would be really funny

thank you for requesting!🫶🏽

You and Luke were never big on PDA.

It wasn’t a conscious choice either of you really made. Truth being told, you never really noticed how ‘un-coupley’ the two of you acted until a friend had pointed it out to you somewhere in the first few weeks of college when they were shocked to learn that you and Luke were a couple.

But it never bothered you. It wasn’t a big surprise considering the evolution of your relationship with Luke was something that changed gradually over time. You had been attached by the hip since day one, each other’s best friend for as long as anyone could remember. You were always together, always found together, would always be together. There was no one in this world that you would consider your bestest friend over Luke Hughes.

It just so happened that somewhere between the years of high school, that friendship evolved into something a little less platonic. But he was still your best friend. He would always be your best friend before he was your boyfriend. Neither of you acted differently after you got together because nothing in the relationship had really changed after the two of you confessed that night, except for the fact you just happened to make out with him as much as you laughed at the stupid jokes he told.

So even though you and Luke had been together as a couple for the better part of six years, you never really acted like one in front of people.

Which is why Jack and Quinn tended to be so dramatic whenever the two of you did anything remotely coupley.

“Did you put sunscreen on today?”

Luke paused, pulling back and slowly blinking his eyes open to look at you with an incredulous look. “Why the hell are you thinking about sunscreen whilst making out with me?”

“Because your skin feels really warm,” you retorted, unbothered by the way his lip jutted out with a small pout as you poked the reddening skin on his shoulder. The hiss he let out instantly made you snort. “Fucking knew it.”

“You were hogging the bottle,” Luke retorted, smacking your hand away when you tried to poke him again before it returned to its rightful place on your ass.

“No, you were more focused on putting sunscreen on me to remember yourself,” you corrected with a smile.

“Yeah, well, you whine so much when you’re sunburnt,” Luke huffed, laughing a little when you lightly smacked his chest. “Kidding, babe, love you.”

“Whatever,” you muttered as you leaned down, pressing your lips against his and letting out a content noise as he squeezed your ass, pulling you further onto his lap before he pushed his tongue into your mouth and—

“OH MY GOD, MY EYES! MY FUCKING EYES!”

Luke let out a heavy sigh, his head falling against your shoulder as he grumbled under his breath. “Every fucking time.”

“Gross, guys,” Quinn frowned at the sight of you two on the sunlounger whilst Jack dramatically continued to gag behind him. “So gross.”

“What happened to the two of you doing a grocery run in the town?” You questioned, making no move to shift off your boyfriend’s lap, though his hands moved to rest on your waist now.

“We did it and came back already to find you—” Jack paused, placing a hand on his chest as he shuddered. “Defiling the furniture.”

“Drama queen,” Luke grumbled.

You snorted. “As if you didn’t do much worse three summers ago when I saw you and that girl on the boat—”

Jack’s eyes widened. “LALALA! SHE DOESN’T KNOW WHAT SHE IS TALKING ABOUT!”

Quinn whirled around to look at him with narrowed eyes. “What the fuck did you do on the boat?”

Luke grinned, turning to look at you as his brothers continued to bicker in the background. “It’s kinda hot when you blackmail people.”

You grinned back. “Yeah?”

“Mhm.”

You tucked your bottom lip between your teeth. “Wanna show me how hot? Preferably in a room with a lock so we don’t have to repeat of the other day.”

Luke scoffed, rolling his eyes. “Quinn should learn to knock. That is not our fault.”

#luke hughes #nhl #new jersey devils #luke hughes x reader #luke hughes x you #luke hughes x y/n #luke hughes fic #luke hughes one shot #nhl x reader #nhl x you #nhl x y/n #nhl fic #nhl one shot

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acerikus · 2 days ago

Note

not a kh fan or a pokemon fan where did the character kidnapping come from. it's fascinating to observe but i'd like to know why

okay so basically, theres a kingdom hearts mobile game called kingdom hearts union cross (khux for short) thats fully lore relevant (now out of service as of 2021) that featured a very very loved character named brain (yes thats actually his name). He looks like this:

at the end of that game he woke up in a new place we had yet to see and thats pretty much where it left off.

In 2022, they announced a new mobile game, called missing link. he showed up in the trailer for it, lots of kh mobile game fans were very excited.

the thing is. we were told the game was releasing last year. we had a closed beta for it early last year and then... nothing. no news. not even an announcement that its been delayed or anything. this particular corner of the fandom has been slowly going more and more insane these past three years. people have been starving for any kingdom hearts news at all for the past three years and brain fans especially seem to have been going insane.

this is a fandom who go completely off the wall bonkers with no news. 'stairposting' was a thing after khux dried up, where everyone talked about their favourite step in a. random flight of stairs in an area of khux. i am not joking. 'stairposting' is a whole-ass tag filled with khux posts almost exclusively, i just grabbed a couple but theres a lot if you search it

(first post) (second post)

lots of jokes recently about how hes trapped on the balcony he was seen on in the trailer this past week. ive seen 'roofposting' and 'balconyposting' for a while.

enter the new pokemon legends ZA trailer. we got footage of the game for the first time on thursday, as well as getting to see what the protags look like.

this is the male protag.

all of the missing link fandom has decided this is brain now, that hes finally free from his balcony and decided to fuck off to pokemon france since his game is never coming out.

people were making posts about him being trapped on the balcony THAT MORNING before the announcement, even. and you know what the kicker is?

they put this fucker on a balcony.

#hope i explained this well enough. delighting in all the brainposting #a-heart-that-believes #ask #plza #khml #brain kh

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rosones · 2 days ago

Text

social media au - being in an all-girl K-pop group touring with bigbang

liked by taeyangforevaaa & 1,203,998 others

tmz_tv ✓ - y/n from lumina and big bangs Top spotted together in a parking garage !! after multiple flirty on-stage interactions during their joint tour, is this the start of a budding romance? are these two k-pop stars taking their romance off stage? fans want to know !

view comments

user - paparazzi is so invasive .

user - I KNEW ITTTTT

user - don’t know why their companies allow them to be out in public like this

userlikespepperoni - let them do whatever they want, they’re full grown adults

user - /@userlikespepperoni exactly !! everybody is so parasocial it’s weird

user - i think they look great together idk

liked by ttt, xxxibgdrgn, & 3,478,629 others

y/n ✓ - thank you for having me @breakfastclubam <3

view comments

user - does she address her dating rumors with Top in this ??

user - ugh brown is her color

cinephile2015 - she’s so beautiful

user - /@cinephile2015 preach 🙏

user - your relationship is beautiful and you shouldn’t let anybody ruin it for you ❤️

liked by author

the following article was written by maya peters and published by tmz .

Are Lumina’s Y/N and BIGBANG’s T.O.P More Than Just Tourmates? Fans Think So!

K-pop fans are buzzing after Y/N from Lumina and BIGBANG’s T.O.P were spotted together in a parking garage late last night, fueling already rampant dating rumors. The two idols, whose groups have been touring together for the past few week, have been serving undeniable chemistry on stage—but is there something more happening off-stage?

The duo’s interactions during performances have been a hot topic, with playful glances, inside jokes, and even a few “accidental” touches keeping fans on their toes. While some chalk it up to stage presence and fan service, others are convinced there’s something real brewing behind the scenes. And now, after Y/N’s recent interview on The Breakfast Club radio show, the rumors are only gaining more traction.

When asked about her relationship with T.O.P, Y/N played it cool—but her response left plenty of room for speculation. “T.O.P is… a great guy. He’s been in the industry for a long time, so I really respect and admire him,” she said with a knowing smile. “Touring together has been an amazing experience, and I think we’ve all gotten really close.” While she didn’t outright confirm the romance, that little smirk (paired with the way she quickly changed the subject) didn’t go unnoticed by fans.

Life on the road has only made these whispers louder. The joint tour has been a dream for fans of both groups, with electric performances and unforgettable moments in every city. From sold-out arenas to late-night fan interactions, Y/N has expressed how much she’s loved connecting with supporters around the world. “It’s been exhausting but also the most fun I’ve ever had,” she shared. “Seeing fans’ reactions, hearing them sing along—it makes everything worth it.”

But between the hectic schedule and endless travel, it seems like Y/N and T.O.P have still found time to enjoy each other’s company. Whether it’s subtle matching outfits, disappearing from afterparties at the same time, or that now-infamous parking garage sighting, all signs are pointing to a potential K-pop power couple in the making.

So, is it official? Y/N isn’t saying… but she isn’t exactly denying it either. And in the world of K-pop, that says everything.

liked by ttt, xxxibgdrgn, __yungbae__, d_lable_official, & 8,372,746 others

y/n ✓ - thank you for everything

view comments

user - omg are they like official now???

user - the group photo ❤️‍🩹

user - THEY KISSED I WAS THEREEEE

ilikebagels1234 - love that they confirmed their relationship on stage 💓

user - /@ilikebagels1234 they love and trust their fans sm

user - never want this tour to end

#bigbang #choi seunghyun #choi seunghyun x reader #squid game #squid game season 2 #t.o.p #t.o.p x reader #thanos #thanos x reader #player 230

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mythalism · 23 hours ago

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You seem to be both a solavellan and mythal fan so maybe I won’t get shot for this question lol

Veilguard was my first game. I kept default settings, which meant solavellan world state.

I genuinely wonder: what makes people think Solas loves Lavellan? Or that if being with Mythal possible, he still would choose Lavellan?

He is so clearly not over Mythal. Last game is filled with references to their connection, she herself confirms that both still love each other. He is very protective of her while arguing with Elgarnan. Statues of them everywhere, him painting and playing songs about her, his very own room having statues of Mythal… In the end he discloses he does it all for her, refuses to stop after Lavellan’s appeals, and only does so after Mythal shows up.

In comparison, Solas describes what he had with Lavellan as “entanglement he selfishly grow close to” he both regrets and cherishes. Most of the romance is carried on Inquisitor’s shoulders, as she both explicitly tells what he means to her, reaches out to him and ultimately shares his burden of atonement.

I couldn’t understand why this ship was so popular, so I watched solavellan romance in DAI. And while it was beautifully done, having the context of Veilguard, I just keep seeing Mythal in every “we shouldn’t”/his face after balcony kiss/ultimately abandoning her in the end. It feels almost unfair and cruel for him to enter another relationship while his heart isn’t free. And to visit Lavellan’s dreams afterwards

What am I missing?

a lot of people would shoot you for this. but dont worry i am not one of them. be careful out there tho

i think the first thing i would say is that instead of watching a video, you would need to do play a full solavellan playthrough of the game if you do want to genuinely understand the relationship and why it is so beloved. im not sure which compilation you watched, but even one that includes all their conversations (rather than just the cutscenes, of which there are very few) cannot do the relationship justice. so much of understanding solas as a character and how he loves people, by extension, is wrapped up in how he reacts to the world at large, its people, its history, its institutions, and its metaphysics. assuming you're new to DA and wouldn't know this, solas's romance in inquisition is the shortest, most sparse romance in the game, and was added later in development. as a result, much of his essential characterization happens outside the bounds of romance content, but still adds deeper meaning, context, and depth to the relationship. even in terms of romance specific content, some of my favorite content occurs in banter that probably was not included in the video you watched. the solas romance is less a standalone love story, in the way many of the romances are, and more of a big juicy delicious cherry on top that helps you better understand the overall dragon age solas plot/cake you're eating.

theres a couple non-romance specific scenes that shed significant light on solas & mythal's dynamic from his perspective that i am not sure if you have seen and honestly i wouldnt recommend watching them because, again, i think you should just play inquisition and experience them in the proper context. but solas's companion personal quest is directly about his corruption at the hands of mythal, though we didn't know that until veilguard came out and contextualized it. and this quest pretty explicitly demonstrates how he feels about what she did to him: rage, beyond forgiveness, deserving of death. he also comments on her at the temple of mythal, and his comments are mostly neutral but verging on judgemental, and do illuminate that while he may have loved her, he certainly did not trust her. it is he who first clarifies that she was a goddess of vengeance, rather than justice. which i cant think about too long or else i'll get angry that they ret-conned it to benevolence -> retribution or whatever the fuck and erased the anders/justice/vengeance parallel... anyway

but i think more telling is his absolute refusal to drink from the well if asked, and most telling; how he fears for an inquisitor who drank.

he specifically calls mythal dangerous, arrogant, and fickle, absolutely refuses to submit to her will once again via the drinking of the well, and begs an inquisitor he loves not to do the same lest she suffer the same fate. he loves mythal, of course, but he also fears her. he is critical of her behavior and wary of her motivations. his love for her exists alongside his recognition of what she was.

another fairly vital bit of information is how according to trespasser (cole banter), solas used to wear mythal vallaslin until he burnt it off his own face when he developed his vallaslin removal spell. its how he got the little scar above his eyebrow. meaning, if vallaslin were slave markings, that solas was effectively enslaved to her. this is... pretty important context, obviously. but we never find out what it might have been like for him. veilguard.... didnt forget but rather deliberately ignored this because it wasnt willing to interrogate the issue of slavery which had been vital to solas as the leader of a slave rebellion. ugh. anyway.

this leads into my next point which is that veilguard really drastically changes solas's motivations to be far more mythal-centric than what was set up in inquisition/trespasser. we always knew something was up with them, and people always wondered if they might have been lovers, but veilguard goes in on this idea in a way that many people would actually call out-of-character compared to how he behaves in inquisition. veilguard itself though does present their relationship as rather complex though, in my opinion its one of the best parts of the game. the two moments that i chew on most frequently are the letter from felassan in mythal's weird little dragon pit that reveals how he made that island for her but locked it away when she was killed. and my ultimate fave is how she reveals that in the literal thousands of years she has been sitting there alone since her murder, many of which he was alive and fighting a rebellion partly in her name, and in the 12 years since he woke up from uthenera, he never went to visit her. not once. its giving jane eyre and i fucking love it. in this same conversation, she also says that when he killed flemeth, he wept. this, i think, is the crux of how he feels about her. he can barely look at her. he resents her. he will use her like he did anyone else. he loves her. he feels lost without her. he will never forgive her. he misses her. all of these things are true at once, and mythal seems to feel similarly; she loathes him. she understands him better than anyone. she resents him for betraying her and abandoning her. she calls him a pathetic little crybaby pussy ass bitch. she loves him.

i dont think anything you said in your message is necessarily wrong. i do think he loves mythal still. i think he always will. i think mythal is valid when she says that they have a bond that no one will ever understand. i agree he is protective over her. i also interpret their relationship as romantic though a lot of people do not. i just love drama. but i think you are misinterpreting his reluctance to be with lavellan as coming from his attachment to mythal as a person, rather than his attachment to his duty to what mythal represents - the world he ruined, everything he's ever done wrong. to say that solas would actually consciously choose mythal over lavellan if they were the final two contestants on the bachelorette is honestly, absurd. sorry. because actually he would choose neither, he would dramatically let the rose fall to the ground and run off to restore the elven people while chris hansen (felassan) dramatically runs after him. both women are secondary to him when it comes to the good of the entire world, and fixing what he broke. he has had plenty of moments to choose mythal and run away with her if he wanted. he has literally had her bertha-ing out in his crossroads attic for 10 years. he also literally does kill her via flemeth. which isnt to say that he wouldn't kill lavellan if forced to, i think he would. but the point here is that its not mythal vs. lavellan. its mythal vs. the world, and lavellan vs. the world. he should have chosen the world over mythal. he didnt. he created the blight instead. he destroyed everything. he cannot make the same mistake again, so he will choose the world every. single. time.

regardless, every time solas turns away from lavellan in the romance, he is not thinking "i wish you were her". he is thinking "if i do this to you, i have become her". prioritizing his own desires over the good of the world, stringing her along, using her as a tool to do his bidding (getting the orb back), are all things mythal did to him. he told her he would follow her anywhere. and when he begins to realize that lavellan would follow him anywhere (as she says in veilguard), he freaks out and has to end it. he knows he will have to continue to kill and cause destruction to bring his world back, so if he did allow her to join him in walking the dinan'shiral, or did anything other than break her heart and leave her, he would be corrupting her the way mythal corrupted him; a weapon to achieve his goal. but he refuses. in his mind, he already destroyed the world for love once; at mythal's behest. if he abandons the world for lavellan, he is destroying the world for love again, and making her an accomplice. so, every time he leaves her it is an act of love.

the way the inquisitor is the driving force of their romance is partly just... gameplay lol but its also consistent with the overarching theme of consent in a relationship that is fundamentally unethical and unequal. lavellan has to be the initiator or else solas becomes a predator. some would say he is anyway lol, but its clear much of the writing was designed to avoid this with the way he is constantly denying himself, backing away, trying not to give in. it might have been juicy, but for him to knowingly romantically and sexually pursue a young woman 10,000 years younger while lying to her about his identity and using her for his plans would make him an entirely different character. a character that would be a hit on romantasy booktok, but not solas. consent and ethics are so central to not only the relationship thematically, but to solas himself, and some of that is because of mythal and the inequality of their own past dynamic. solas is so passive in the romance not because he doesnt like this weird clingy bitch who wont leave him alone, but because he does not want to recreate the same dynamic that corrupted him into pride and uhhhh literally destroyed the world. i'll leave you with another essential quote that you may not have encountered yet:

Cole: It isn’t abuse if I ask! Solas: Not always true.

in trespasser, solas's duty to bring down the veil was more unambiguously to the elven people and the alleviation of his own crushing guilt, while mythal was collateral damage in his way and he used her like he would use anyone else (including lavellan loool) as a tool to achieve his goals. we see this when he kills flemeth and takes mythal's power. in veilguard they had to obscure this slightly to make him "less sympathetic", to use the devs own words. and they did this by shifting the crux of his motivations to mythal. i dont think his lap dog devotion is out of character, i adore it, but i hate that it came at the expense of his more complex and sympathetic motivations of saving the elven people and spirits from the damage of the veil. as a result, when looking at his behavior in the context of inquisition + trespasser + veilguard, i interpret it as mythal being symbolic of the destruction of the world at his hands. and not to toot my own horn but trick's interpretation that they shared on bluesky does support this, when they said that to solas, mythal represents the past and lavellan represents the future. ive written about his statement that it was all for mythal, and the tldr is that i think it is also supposed to be interpreted as symbolic and reflective of his psyche. but even if he did do it all for her, i dont think that necessarily negates his relationship with lavellan. he needs mythal to break the cognitive dissonance, alleviate his guilt, and release him, because she is the source of all of those things in the first place. lavellan could never break them because she is frankly irrelevant to those things. he is so caught up in his sunk-cost fallacy that he feels the only way is through. lavellan may not be able to break the hold the past has on him because she is separate from it, but she can offer him another path once it has been broken, a fork in the road he thought was straight; her, their future.

i think to say solas's heart is not free is a misunderstanding. he denies his heart's desire over and over, we see this clearly in the letter he sends to lavellan in veilguard that expresses how badly he wanted to put down his burden and stay with her. in his expressed reluctance to leave her in crestwood, how he refuses to lie and tell her it meant nothing. in "no matter what happens, i want you to know that what we had was real". his indulgent final kiss in trespasser. in "i will never forget you". its especially apt that you worded it this way and that vhenan means "my heart". if anything, his heart is the most free part of him. it is everything else that belongs to mythal: his body, created at her command. his path of destruction and ruin, which she set him on. his purpose, which she distorted from wisdom to pride. she, then, is the only one who can give it all back to him. and as soon as she does, he is free to prioritize his heart. and he quite literally does.

tldr; play inquisition <3

#asks #character analysis #meta #mine #this is not what i planned to do tonight but here we are #thanks for coming to me anon you absolutely came to the right place

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melanchoire · 2 days ago

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I need Karinas tits bouncing on my face 😔

i already have a fic about karina and the reader with an oral fixation (and which got so many notes btw?? thanks guys 💕) but kari and boobies are two things i could never get tired of SO HERE WE GO

cw: nipple play, titsucking.

this time it’s not about the reader with an oral fixation, but more about the secret fantasies that karina has in her mind 👀 you two were just cuddled up on the couch, relaxing and spending a lazy sunday afternoon together. of course, with your head on karina’s chest, with one hand resting on one of her breasts but not in a perverted way! but rather lazily tracing patterns of circles or imaginary drawings on her chest with the tip of your finger

“you always seem to enjoy that so much.” she would say mockingly, referring to your little, not–so–concealed obsession with her breast just because yes! your eyes seem to be glued to karina’s chest all the time, no matter if it’s during intimacy or something more everyday, your eyes are there

“makes me think you want more than just looking at them.” oh 😳

so this led to trying nipple play and titsucking with karina for the first time? WELL YES

karina is now sitting on your lap, her shirt and bra lifted up over her chest and leaving her breasts available to your hungry gaze and drooling mouth…

she is so sensitive about this 😵‍💫 karina never had so much attention on her tits before because her previous partners focused more on fucking her than exploring new things like this, typical vanilla sex with a couple of kisses and basic stuff!! never did any of them even try to see what else might please her… or try stuff like this 👀

she becomes desperate and craves more when you take your time taking her nipple between your teeth and sucking gently while running your tongue over the bud and you repeat the same action with the other, using her hand to push your face into her chest as if you weren’t practically face to face with her cleavage 🫠

isknzkskx playing with her own nipples and pinching them between her fingers when you capture her lips in a kiss to silence her moans because karina was starting to get really loud and you had barely even started doing anything 😣 oh and i bet she can cum just from having her tits played with…

#yu jimin #yu jimin x fem reader #yu jimin x reader #yu jimin smut #yoo jimin #yoo jimin x fem reader #yoo jimin x reader #yoo jimin smut #karina #karina x fem reader #karina x reader #karina smut #aespa #aespa x fem reader #aespa x reader #aespa smut

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graceface1712 · 2 days ago

Text

Spoiling her

SoftRafexSweetPougePrincess

Summary: Sweet Pouge princess is too poor to afford stuff like a phone. So Rafe takes her out and buys her one. And maybe some other stuff

Warnings: None! Just fluff

Hope you enjoy! 🫶🏻🫶🏻

*ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚ *ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚ *ੈ✩‧₊ *ੈ

“Ready to go?” Rafe asks Y/N.

“Yup!”

They both climb into his truck. He starts driving them over to the non-touristy section of OBX. There is a mall, stores, and a couple restaurants.

Rafe pulls into the mall parking lot. Y/N looks over at him confused.

“What are we doing here?” She asks him.

“We need to get a few things.” He says before getting out of his truck and quickly walking over to open her door. He stretches out his hand to her and she grabs it. They walk hand in hand into the mall.

Y/N has only ever been here a few times. And it was mainly because Kiara had money and wanted to buy some stuff and invited Y/N. But she didn't buy anything, just tagged along.

Rafe leads her through the mall before she finally sees where he must be heading. The Apple Store. Becoming more confused, she turns her head to Rafe’s. They walk in together.

“What are we doing here?” She asks him again.

“We’re buying you a phone.” Rafe says it's no big deal. Y/N’s mouth drops open.

“What! Rafe you can’t do this. We barely even know each other! This is our first date.” She tries to argue but Rafe is having nothing of it.

“Look I’m going to need a way to contact you that isn’t driving to your house all the time. This is the only option I could think of.” He says.

“But Rafe. These phones are so expensive! Why do you think I have never had one? And I can’t afford a phone bill every month!” Y/N keeps pressing as they walk around the store. Rafe doesn’t seem to be listening to her, just looking at the different colors and options.

“I will pay for it all. It won’t even make a scratch in my bank account sweetheart. Now please stop worrying. Look at this one, it’s your favorite color.” He points to a phone on display. It’s a baby pink. Absolutely gorgeous.

Y/N can feel herself cave when she sees the look in his eyes. He will not hear her say no. And this color is so beautiful.

“Alright, well that’s settled.” He calls over a sales person.

“Hello sir, how can I help you?” The associate asks.

“Hi. I’ll take this iPhone, at its best value. I’ll also take an iPad Air, in pink please. And to go with that, an Apple Pencil.” Rafe says. The associate nods along and disappears to grab the items.

“Why did you ask for a pink iPad?” Y/N asks.

“Because once you get your phone, watching streaming services and playing games are so much more fun on a bigger screen.” He says like it’s obvious.

Y/N gasps. “Rafe. Are you kidding me? The phone is already way more than needed.” She scolds him.

“I do not care. You are my girl. I’m going to spoil you. And a phone is necessary so you can call or text me whenever. The iPad is just for fun.” He shoots me a wink and the sales associate comes back with all the things in a bag.

We walk over to the counter and Rafe takes out his black Amex card to pay. I can’t even look at how much he’s spending right now, or else it will make me throw up.

Rafe thanks the associate and then grabs the bag along with my hand. Hut by the look on his face he isn’t done yet.

“Rafe please. This is more than enough for today. Thank you so much. But I don’t need you spending any more money on me.”

“Okay.” He says with a small pout on his lips.

We go home and helps me set everything up. Let’s just say I’m addicted to temple run now.

#rafe obx #⋆˚࿔ rafe 𝜗𝜚˚⋆#rafe cameron #outer banks #money #old money #rich life #rafe x reader #outerbanks rafe #rafe fanfiction #rafe imagine #rafe fic

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verdancy-hime · 1 day ago

Text

Nah. I don't know anyone who has that.

I only know 3 happily married couples.

Only met 3 my whole life

None of them were like that.

Also, tbh, I don't want family oriented.

That's part of the problem.

They're always either looking for a mom for themselves or their future children.

I promise you as an old crone I'm not saying this because I'm some kind of bitter cow or whatever Charlotte Haze nonsense.

The most freeing thing you can do as a woman is simply accept that you were lied to your whole life about romantic love and that it doesn't work like it does in stories and it's more like a brief interlude of madness that you need to microdose so you don't fuck up your life.

It's not that you are not singularly blessed enough to deserve someone who is all that whatever whatever, it's just that relationships like that don't exist.

I tested it by talking to a bunch of men. Even the ones who are so clueless and self absorbed that they have no idea if their wife is also miserable are they themselves unhappy in their relationships.

Because the nuclear family is just designed to make people miserable.

Marriage is designed so that weird neurotic dudes can stop freaking out over the idea that their kids aren't biologically related to them because people used to not know how genetics worked and attribute magical properties to bloodlines.

Now that we know how genetics work we know that bloodlines are mostly bunk and we should get rid of the whole project so we can stop making most people miserable because they think something is wrong with them because they can't get something that doesn't exist outside of stories.

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klausysworld · 2 days ago

Note

Hiii I absolutely love your oneshots. Can you please do one with Elijah mikaelson. Similar to your klaus one shot about the reader having a lack in height.. Elijah is OBSESSED. Reader could be like (4’10 to 5’1?)

Uncontrollable Love

It shouldn’t have turned him on as much as it did.

Just looking at her made him stir.

It had gotten to the point where even Niklaus was teasing him about it all.

Whenever Y/N would leave the room Elijah’s eyes would follow and someone would snicker.

He hadn’t realised quite how tiny she was the first couple times, Y/N always seemed to be sitting the first few encounters so when he had been too focused on sorting out his cufflinks and bumped into her, he didn’t realise who it was.

Not until she spun back around and called out his name with a smile on her face.

“Oh..” He breathed, Elijah hadn’t remembered the last time he’d been at such a loss for words but looking down at her he was. Y/N barely reached his chest, let alone being at eyeline. Her head was tilted all the way back, looking up at him with such a sweetness that it made his dead heart thump quickly. His head shook a little, trying to urge his thoughts back. “Y/N.” He nodded, “Forgive me, I wasn’t looking.” His throat cleared, he felt like he sounded funny. Did he sound different? Was his voice too high? Too deep?

He wasn’t so sure and he could feel the bead of sweat on his forehead.

“That’s okay, neither was I.” She smiled, holding up her phone as if to show him what she had been looking at. Her expression shifted, a slight frown and it made him worry more. “Oh did I mess up your tie? I’m sorry, I must've knocked it somehow.” Y/N reached up as she said so, her arms stretched up to straighten his tie.

Her fingers were so close to him, almost touching him. Usually he was very possessive of his belongings, especially his extensive tie collection but he couldn’t help but want her to stroke every inch of fabric he owned.

He couldn’t take it, just watching her. It was straining him.

Without a word he had left the room, leaving her confused but she simply shrugged it off and went on her way.

From that day he couldn’t help but imagine her with him all the time.

Wondered how she’d look snuggled up against him, gods he’d be able to wrap his body all the way around her.

He’d imagine her sitting on his lap, straddling him. Her thighs stretched open as she looked up at him with her big eyes. It made him throb.

Every morning he had to reach over her, grab the cereal and pass it down to her and every time he couldn’t help but let himself press against the back of her.

At lunch he’d get too nervous that she might slip and slice her finger off when she cut her sandwich in half so he’d hastily make his way down the stairs and grab the knife before she could. She’d laugh, such a bubbly laugh that would make his heart clench and she’d tell him that she wasn’t a small child but he could always see the level of comfort and enjoyment she took when he sliced her sandwich into two triangles and shifted them onto a plate for her.

Once dinner rolled around he’d be all over her in the kitchen. He’d lift her onto the counter, watching her legs swing back and forth as he slid the herbs across to her when she asked for them.

She’d talk so much to him then, and he would always listen of course. It was impossible not to pay attention to her, her voice was addictive. But he also couldn’t stop himself from admiring her. He just wanted to hold her, feel her, know that she was his.

Pure and utter joy would fill him when his brother announced another event they were throwing.

It meant Y/N would be held against his chest, letting him lift her off the ground and dance her all around the room like she was just a petal in the wind. In addition to that, at the end of those events, Elijah was almost guaranteed a kiss from her.

He’d walk her back up the stairs, her dainty hands clutching his bicep as she spoke to him about how lovely the evening had been. Once they got to her bedroom he’d clear his throat, a faint smile creeping on his lips but he needed to keep it back.

Y/N would tuck her hair behind her ear, a nervous habit Elijah had discovered, and look up at him through her lashes.

“Thank you for being with me all night.” She’d whisper, her foot sliding in and out of her heel, another habit, before she’d reach up to wrap her fingers around his tie. Elijah would always have to hold his breath so he wouldn’t let out a groan.

She’d tug him down and he’d eagerly lean so that their lips could meet.

Always soft and innocent but would linger slightly too long for it to mean something casual.

His hand would hold her waist, he felt as though he could fit her in one hand.

“Goodnight Elijah.” Her voice would utter before she disappeared into the confines of her room.

Elijah would have to sit as quietly as he could in his reading chair, his hair damp as he stroked himself like a desperate animal. His hips would jump as though somehow he’d lost the control over himself that he had trained himself to have over centuries.

It took him an embarrassingly long time to finally cave to his feelings and bring her to his bed. But once he had her, he knew she’d never be able to leave him.

Elijah was in a state when her legs wrapped around him, his hands traced the short length of her body over and over and she knew how much he loved her size. Especially once her fingers were trying to wrap around his cock, the contrased made his hips just. Watching her pretty pink lips stretch around the head made his hands tangle in her hair, he just couldn’t believe what was happening.

Even once he was deep inside her, he couldn’t help but watch as his cock disappear inside her over and over, he could feel her pussy stretching around him. He looked so big between her legs.

Y/N moaned and whined like a needy whore and it made him crazy.

“Just desperate to be split in two by my big cock, aren’t you baby?” he would taunt against her ear, relishing in the way she would clench around him.

Once she finished around him, he would pump her full of his cum, not once tearing his gaze away from how it all spilled out of her.

Elijah was a carer, that much was evident just with his siblings but with Y/N he was even more so.

He never wanted her walking, holding her tight instead, needing her legs around his waist all the time and arms over his neck. He needed her to need him, to cling to him like his soul would cling to hers.

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ceilidho · 1 day ago

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fear of god

There's someone outside the spacecraft. You don't remember them being part of the crew. Part 12 masterlist

A false moon dictates the coming of night.

You set up a cot in the medical unit again, going to your quarters to grab a spare set of sheets before returning, Gaz shadowing you the way there and back. His presence scratches at the back of your head, reminding you that he’s there at your back. You don’t ask him why he insists on keeping up this charade of monitoring your behaviour—his motives are as unclear to you as ever.

“This isn’t necessary,” you finally manage to get out on the walk back to the medbay, the door within sight.

“I know,” Gaz says simply.

The door slides open and you enter with him still at your back. “Then why are you following me?”

“Those were Graves’ orders, weren’t they?”

“And you what? Follow his orders now?”

It’s difficult to determine who you actually feel betrayed by. Gaz owes you no debt—it wasn’t you that let him into the ship. The focus of your anger should be on Graves and the rest of the crew, but yet—

Your chest twinges when the door slides shut and Gaz leans against it, no different than a guard posted at the door.

He shrugs, unbothered by the reproach in your voice. “He’s the commander.”

“That doesn’t mean he’s right.”

“Maybe not.”

“I had nothing to do with Hadir getting sick.”

“I know that.” Your chest deflates when you can’t detect any insincerity behind his words. “But Graves is in charge of the ship and unless you think you could get the others to agree with you, isn’t it better to toe the line for now?”

It would upset you if it were any less true. The hierarchical arrangement of personnel on board has always been clear, and it’s not lost on you that you’ve always hovered near the bottom, falling further from grace with every passing day. Who apart from Gaz and Hadir have been sympathetic towards you in recent weeks anyway? Nikolai’s friendship is an extension of his disposition, an affection easily given and easily taken away. Farah barely even regards you as trustworthy these days, convinced that you’re teetering on the edge of losing your mind.

She might not be wrong.

Gaz watches you make the bed, settling into your office chair, a mite more comfortable than the stool by the counter.

“Do you want me to set up a cot for you?” you ask begrudgingly.

He shakes his head. “Don’t need one.”

“You can sleep comfortably sitting up like that?”

His smile verges on patronizing. “I don’t need to sleep, love.”

Your skin crawls. You hate when he does that—when he lets you in on your shared secret, the knowledge that he isn’t as human as he appears. Whatever he is still eludes you. Alien or divine. There’s no point in asking though. That knowledge sits beyond your purview.

You ignore him to the best of your abilities and finish setting up your cot, his words still ringing in your ears.

Things take a turn for the worse when Hadir stops responding altogether.

Though his verbal responses have become less and less frequent over the last couple days, the dropoff is significant. As your only patient though, you’ve been monitoring him closely since he was admitted, and you pick up on the change quickly. It’s like an itch under your skin, a sixth sense from working with sick patients for the better part of your adult years.

Gaz picks up on the change in your mood, sitting up straighter. “What’s wrong?”

“I don’t know,” you respond through stiff lips. “Something changed.”

The base of your spine tingles when the vital signs monitor suddenly beeps, alerting you to a change in Hadir’s condition.

You flip a switch and press a button on the keyboard, speaking directly to the Ship’s AI. “Ship, what’s the patient’s status?”

Patient's temperature is unusually elevated

Recommendation to increase fluids and decrease external temperature

You lift his eyelids and find his pupils irregular, one larger than the other, and they don’t respond properly when you shine a light on them.

“What can I do?” Gaz asks, as serious as you’ve ever seen him.

“We need to cool him down. His fever is spiking. I’ll get the cooling blanket—there are ice packs in the freezer over there—” You point to a refrigerator on the other side of the room. “—get the ice packs and start packing them around his armpits and groin. We need to get his temperature down while I figure out what the fuck is happening.”

Gaz moves quickly, retrieving the ice packs from the freezer and packing them up against Hadir’s pits and in between his legs under the medical gown. Hadir’s lips flutter reflexively at the cold but that’s as much responsiveness as you get out of him.

You press the button to speak to the AI again. “Ship, is his temperature coming down?”

Negative

Patient temperature currently: 104°

Even his breathing has changed, his breaths similarly irregular and increasingly shallower. You put in the orders for another CT scan, moving quicker and typing faster than you ever have before. The breathing tube gets put in next to secure his airway and you don’t like the way his gag reflex doesn’t kick in when the tube is shoved down his throat. It signals something dangerous.

The situation before you doesn’t bode well. Dread clings to the wall in the far corner of the room but you ignore its presence to focus on your work, throwing everything at the walls to see what sticks.

His labs are all over the place. High fever, low platelets, high D-dimer, high FDPs. An hour passes in a blink with you running test after test to no avail—none of his results that come back make any sense—all while his temperature continues to rise.

Patient temperature currently: 105°

Plastic backliners flutter to the floor when you rip them off the electrodes, pasting the small metal discs around Hadir’s scalp for the EEG, working as quickly and efficiently as possible.

“Has his temperature come down yet?” you bark, too preoccupied with your work to chance a glance up at the monitor.

“No,” Gaz says curtly. “Still 105°.”

It’s all happening so quickly that you can’t seem to get your bearings. If it were anyone else on the table, you’d at least have Hadir to assist you; you’re on your own now though, Gaz barely any help to you without any real medical knowledge.

Your heart pounds against your chest when you notice blood coming up Hadir’s ET tube. A few droplets at first, and then a trickle.

A horrible, prophetic knowledge falls over you, threatening to collapse you.

“What’s wrong with him?” Gaz asks.

“I don’t know—” Then his nose starts to bleed and your heart stops. The stain on the front of his gown and what you find underneath it when you lift it up confirms your worst suspicions. “He’s going into DIC—”

“DIC?”

“His blood—”

The AI takes that moment to interject, speaking over you: Patient body has used up all of its clotting factors and will begin to bleed out

Sepsis—a severe infection—an autoimmune response—trauma—cancer—so many different possible answers to explain why Hadir would spontaneously go into disseminated intravascular coagulation, but his labs tell you shit. Nothing makes sense. You can’t explain why he might be hemorrhaging because there isn’t anything in his scans or labs to indicate anything wrong with him.

More blood leaks from his face and nethers, staining the light blue of the bed a dark red. Logical objections halt in the face of the tangible, and blood is tangible. Blood is all you see.

The final moments are harried, frenzied. You bark orders at Gaz, which he follows militarily, and struggle in vain to keep Hadir’s condition from further deteriorating, but it’s nearly impossible without being able to address the root cause. Transfusions of platelets, fresh frozen plasma, and cryoprecipitate only go so far.

When his brain activity goes flat on the monitor, your mind goes blank. Static noise fills your head. You slump against the wall, staring at Hadir’s bleeding body on the exam table, still leaking blood from all of his orifices, the sound of the monitor blaring like a siren in your ears.

“He’s dead,” Gaz says blandly, staring at the body nonplussed.

“Yeah,” you rasp. Your voice is thick in your throat, devastated.

There’s blood all over the bed, more in one place than you’ve seen in a long time—not since working in trauma units back on Earth. Every inch of your body aches as the adrenaline recedes, having reached its peak in the throes of Hadir’s final moments, jaw so tight you almost can’t unclench it.

“What happened?” he asks, almost quizzically.

The curious lack of emotion in his voice doesn’t penetrate through the brain fog. “I don’t know—he just…”

The weight of all that just happened comes over you swiftly. An hour ago, Hadir was fine for all intents and purposes. Stable. Now, blood stains his chin, the underside of his nose, the front of his gown, and the bed underneath him, the sweat caked on his forehead cooling as the life leaches out of his body.

Your hands shake by your sides, a violent tremble rolling through you.

“I don’t get it,” you whisper.

You should’ve quarantined Hadir from the start, from the very second he was admitted into your care. You should’ve ignored the fact that his labs came back fine that first day and just assumed that the nature of his illness was more severe than it appeared. Shame and dread plunge like a dagger through your midsection.

Protocol should’ve dictated that you initiate a quarantine, but since you didn’t—

You stare at the body on the table, the ET tube streaked with blood.

—your duty now is to ensure that no one else gets sick too.

You’ll need to seal off the medbay until every surface has been properly decontaminated and then quarantine yourself until you’re sure that you aren’t infected as well. Your eyes flick towards Gaz momentarily before you shoot down the thought of testing him as well.

Mitigate the transmission. That thought sticks out amongst the rest. The body lying on the bed in the middle of the room is no longer a patient that needs tending to but rather hazardous material that needs to be disposed of lest whatever infected it is transmitted to everyone else on board the ship.

It’s waste. Filth. And it will contaminate everything on board if you don’t remove it.

Your body moves on autopilot. You wheel the bed to the ejection chute at the back of the medbay. It takes a series of codes in order to open the door to the chute and you key them in quickly and efficiently. When the door slides open, you raise the bed until it’s slightly higher than the chute, tipping the bed forward in order for the body to slide into it.

Ejection chute engaged

Hadir’s body disappears into the chute, the reinforced metal and glass sliding shut when the sensors register that the chute door is empty. There’s a thunk from behind the wall as his body is shuttled through the pneumatic tubes towards the back of the ship, and it won’t be more than a minute before the body is projected from the ship entirely.

Your heart skips a beat when the AI pings awake again.

Object ejected

“I wouldn't have done that if I were you,” Gaz says, and you flinch at the sound of his voice, momentarily forgetting that someone else is in the room with you.

Your eyes drift over to him, the room murky for a moment, the air hazy like water, like you’re looking through a film and only just starting to settle back down into your body after watching from overhead. He seems bigger somehow.

“We have to quarantine ourselves,” you say, frantically towards one of the cupboards and ripping it open, pulling out rolls of plastic to plaster over the door. “We didn’t put on any PPE, so we might’ve been exposed to whatever Hadir had.”

“I wouldn’t worry about that.”

His lips are turned up at the corners when you look over, frowning, but noise in the hallway keeps you from following up on his remark.

The announcement over the intercom must have alerted the others, and you hear footsteps from down the hall seconds before they arrive, boots clanking against the metal flooring. When the door slides open and you see Farah standing there with Alex at her back, her face hauntingly vulnerable in a way you’ve never seen before, words fail you.

“What happened?” Farah asks.

“I don’t know. He was fine just a second ago and then—”

“Where is he?” she demands, scanning the room for him. “Where’s Hadir?”

“I—” The words get tangled up in your throat, terror and shame making it hard enough to breathe, never mind speak.

Graves barrels in a second later, flushed and out of breath. He must have been in the cockpit when the intercom alerted him to the ejection chute being utilized. Nikolai is fast on his heels, less winded but just as concerned.

You realize that from the direction Nikolai came, he must’ve been at the back of the spacecraft, and you morbidly wonder if he heard the sound of Hadir’s body ferrying through the pneumatic tube system.

“Doctor, what did you just throw out of the chute?” Graves asks, his tone hard and uncompromising, softened only by the breathless note in his voice from running halfway across the ship.

You don’t answer.

His eyes lift to the space over your shoulder, where the patient bed is flush to the wall, the head level with the chute leading out of the ship. Blood still saturates the mattress.

You watch as the knowledge of what you’ve done dawns on them, realization morphing into distress and horror. From behind Farah, Alex goes ashen, a hand clamping down on her shoulder to hold her in place before she realizes what you’ve done and the inevitable happens. You see it play out in your head like a movie.

“Farah—” he starts, but any effort to steer her out of the room is thwarted by how quickly she comes to the same conclusion.

“Where’s my brother?” Farah screams, and you wince, your head aching like there’s something else in there listening to her scream too.

Alex has to hold her back from lunging at you, fighting to keep her in his arms, her body thrashing wildly. You’ve never seen her like this before. Grief and rage strip her of stoicism, and when her screams turn to tears, it rips a hole right through you.

“You ejected Hadir from the ship?” Graves breathes, stunned.

Nikolai just stares, at a loss for words. You’ve never seen any of them so obviously affected, so contrary to the image of them that you’ve carried with you in your mind for months.

“I had to!” you shout, vocal cords tearing under the strain. “We couldn’t keep his body on board! What if it was some hemorrhagic fever—like ebola? Or worse?”

“You don’t even know what killed—” Graves roars before stopping abruptly, squeezing his eyes shut. He presses his fist to his mouth, the skin around his knuckles bone white.

“We need to quarantine.” Your fingers tremble when you press them to your temples, flinching when you realize that your gloves are still covered in blood. “I was going to seal off the room to keep it from spreading, but now that you’re all here, we’re probably all been infected—”

“Infected by what?”

“I don’t know.”

A shade is falling over you. Everything feels raw, livid—a wound being prodded. The light hurts your eyes when you lift them from the floor to meet Graves’ gaze. Even the air feels caustic against your skin.

Even your impulses don’t feel like your own, like there is some

insidious rot

fruiting under your skin.

“Are you going to say anything to them?” you finally snap at Gaz, desperation loosening your tongue. “You were here—you saw what happened. Why aren’t you telling them what happened?”

The others turn to look at him, orienting like sunflowers towards the sun. It’s the only comparison that comes to mind. And at the centre of them, Gaz stares back at you, an ersatz approximation of confusion.

He gives a slow blink, eyes glinting with something unknown. “Tell them what? That you tossed Hadir out into space?”

You should’ve expected that you’d be left hanging, but the reality of it is unbearable. Humiliating.

You know what you look like to them: dangerous, erratic. Your paranoia on full display. Even Nikolai’s mouth is set in a grim line.

You can hear the accusations flying through their minds—that you caused this somehow. Overdosed him on anti-clotting medication and let him bleed out, then disposed of the body before a proper autopsy could be performed. That maybe you prolonged his illness, knowing it would lead to this.

It happens swiftly and without word, as if planned ahead of time. Nikolai and Graves lunge towards you suddenly, grabbing you by the undersides of your arms and nearly lifting you off your feet when they haul you forcibly out of the room. Alex still has Farah trapped in his arms in the corner of the room when they drag you past her.

“Farah, I’m sorry—I’m sorry—”

You’re not strong enough to break free of Graves’ and Nikolai’s hold though, so you’re carried off before Farah can say anything. There’s only a split second for your eyes to lock and for you to see something broken beyond recognition there, and then the door cuts you off from her.

“You’re all fucking insane—let me go—” you scream, spittle flying from your mouth. The scream that tears out of you is so animalistic and loud that your throat squeezes up in protest, a cough forcing its way out. “I didn’t do anything wrong!”

Down the hall and towards the back of the ship. Boots echo against the metal floors, the two men on either side of you in sync with each other. Neither says a word nor responds to your screams. Their patience with your increasingly unhinged behaviour has finally crossed a threshold once thought impossible, your reputation alone no longer enough to save you.

They all but throw you into the brig, the metal door clanging shut behind you when you’re dropped to your hands and knees, peering over your shoulder to find Nikolai punching in the key to lock and arm the door, a wretched, pained look on his face.

“Nikolai, please—” you beg, crawling to the door and curling your hands around the bar. “It wasn’t my fault—I didn’t kill Hadir. I’m sorry! He could’ve made everyone on board sick if we’d kept the body! Please, Nikolai, please—”

Your pleas fall on deaf ears. The last sound you hear is the brig door slamming shut and then their footsteps gradually recede into the distance.

#ceil writing #cod x reader #gaz x reader #gaz x you #kyle gaz garrick x reader #kyle gaz garrick x you #kyle garrick x reader #kyle garrick x you #gaz/reader

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wandaslovey · 9 hours ago

Text

ɪꜱ ɪᴛ ᴛᴏᴏ ᴍᴜᴄʜ, ᴅᴇᴛᴋᴀ?

➺ dom!wandanat x sub!fem!reader

word count ~ 7.2k

summary: as you settle into your relationship with your two new dominants, they want to show you it’s not all about kinkery. however, their plan backfires when you run into an old friend while on a picnic date. it seems..necessary for them to remind you of who you now belong to.

authors note: part 3!!!! i cannot apologize enough for how long it took me to get this one out! writers block had me in a chokehold and then choke slammed me onto the table. i hope this lives up to the hype! <3 this part takes place a couple of months after the contract has been signed. this is not proofread.

content warning(s): legal age gap, dom/sub dynamics, mommy!wanda, daddy!natasha, sub!reader, subspace, some fluff, jealous wandanat, sort of punishment? (more like claiming), possession, fingering, cunnilingus, nipple play, light bondage, dirty talk, a teensie weensie bit of aftercare

venturing is inevitable: masterlist

═════════════

you hear light chuckling in your left ear, followed by the sensation of gentle kisses being bestowed along the right side of your face. you make a small sound, your nose scrunching at the attention your face was getting. you peek your eyes open, blinking rapidly as you adjust to the morning light bathing the master bedroom. the curtains were light, allowing the sun to stream in and brighten the room as it rose with the day.

“good morning, dragotsennaya,” you hear natasha murmur in her warm voice. in the near 2 months you’d moved in with the power couple, you’d since learned the russian term of endearment meant ‘precious’ which would then usually be tossed in different variations like “precious girl” or “precious thing.” you’d melted when you first learned what they meant. both women truly did view you as the most precious, adorable thing on earth.

“mmm, morning,” you mumble out, closing your eyes again and turning on your right side to face wanda. she was still planting gentle kisses on your cheeks and nose, trying to coax you from your peaceful slumber.

you’d grown used to sleeping between them. there was a spare bedroom for their submissive should they choose to use it, but you never wanted to be apart from them, so you always opted for sleeping in their large bed with them—which they never complained.

when you stubbornly refused to open your eyes despite wanda’s incessant kisses and natasha’s hand running up and down your arm, wanda opts for something else to get you awake and out of bed.

“you know what sounds like a good breakfast this morning?” wanda begins her little game, her tone of voice easily catching your attention as she speaks over you to address her wife.

“what’s that?” natasha plays along, quickly gathering where wanda was heading with her little quip.

“waffles.. with chocolate chips..” wanda speaks slowly, glancing down at your face with a grin as she notices your eyes peel open, a cute smile of your own gracing your lips.

“i’m up!” you proclaim cheerily, quickly sitting up in bed. the covers fall off of you, revealing the simple tank top they’d redressed you in after last nights “activities.”

they both chuckle affectionately at your sudden wakeful state simply at the promise of having your favorite breakfast.

“i’ll race you downstairs.” natasha challenges in a low voice, a teasing grin curling her lips upward as she throws her legs over the bed and briskly heads for the bedroom door.

“no! i wasn’t ready!” you squeak, clambering up out of the bed. you barely register the cool air on your naked legs, just a pair of panties covering your lower half. natasha has mercy on you, allowing you to all but shove past her to throw open the door and run down the stairs.

wanda calls after the two of you, telling you to be careful, but you both ignore her, throwing caution to the wind as you hurry down the stairs.

there were many things you’d come to learn about both wanda and natasha in the months you’d been here. one of them being that natasha hated to lose. she was as competitive as a person could be, so when she saw you land on the hard wood flooring after leaping off the last step, she put more force into her jog and made up the extra space between the two of you.

just as you were about to make it to the kitchen, natasha comes up behind you and wraps her arms around your torso. she effortlessly lifts you up and drops you off to the side, setting you off balance. before you can scramble to get back on course, natasha had already successfully set foot in the kitchen, making you the loser.

“hey, that wasn’t fair! you cheated!” you protest, crossing your arms over your chest as you march over to where she was standing by the kitchen island. she wasn’t even winded.

“i didn’t cheat. it’s called strategy.” she grins, tapping your nose. you huff at her response, swatting her hand away from your face.

“that’s a load.” you grumble, your eyes narrowing at natasha’s haughty expression. a flicker of sternness passes over her face as you hit her hand away, as if she was a little surprised at your audacity.

“i’m going to let that slide, only because you have the most adorable sore loser face…” her firm expression turns back into an amused look as she leans down and gets close to your face. you pout as she mocks you, her lips kissing your adorable droopy lip before she pulls away, intent on starting breakfast.

wanda makes her way down the stairs and to the kitchen, following the sound of light banter. she comes up behind you, wrapping her arms around your waist and kissing your jaw. your wrap your arms around hers, melting back into her affection as you watch natasha gather the ingredients for the waffle mixture.

“natalia, dumayu, segodnya ya khochu poprobovat'.” she speaks over your shoulder in their secret language. it frustrated you just as much as it turned you on. whenever they didn’t want you to know something, they’d revert to speaking in russian.

once, you’d questioned how they both knew the language. you were surprised to learn that it was actually natasha’s native language and that wanda had learned it when she studied abroad in russia for two years—where they’d met.

you wished you could learn the language, if nothing else to de-code the secret remarks they’d make right in front of your face, but you weren’t patient enough to try and learn a second language.

natasha smiles at whatever wanda said, simply nodding her head. you feel wanda’s hands slide back a little bit, her fingertips making their way beneath your tank top to caress the soft skin there. you shiver, goosebumps rising on your arms at the delicate touch. her hands travel further upwards before descending back down your sides. she gives your hips a small squeeze, planting a kiss on your head before unwrapping herself from around you all together and pulling away.

you frown at the loss, turning to face her before she can walk away. you reach for her hands, your expression silently trying to convey your wants.

she chuckles at your pleading look, giving your hands a squeeze. “i have to help make breakfast. you wanna help me and daddy?” she asks in a gentle voice, her thumb rubbing across the back of your hand.

between wanda’s affection and the use of their honorifics, you could feel the beginning stages of that foggy feeling in your brain. you simply nod your head, allowing wanda to pull you further into the kitchen.

you all weave gracefully through each other as the three of you make breakfast, almost like it was a practiced routine. you took notice of natasha’s lingering hands on your hips as she snuck behind you and the way wanda gently held your hand to whisk the ingredients in the bowl before letting go.

it took a little bit of time for you at first to comfortably transition from having a clear head to a foggy one—one that relied so heavily on wanda and natasha that you deeply craved to be told each and every move to make—but you quickly became fond of it. they were your safe space and maybe the only place where you could fully allow all your inhibitions go.

natasha sets the table with plates and kitchenware just as you and wanda scooped up the last batch of waffles from the hot iron.

“kay, bring these over to daddy.” wanda turns you towards the kitchen table, patting your bum as you walk away obediently with the plate of waffles. you bring the food over to the table, setting the plate next to some fresh fruit and the pitcher of freshly squeezed orange juice.

one thing you’d learned about wanda was that she loved to garden, so whenever produce was involved it usually came from there instead of the store.

as you move to sit down, natasha is hasty in slithering to sit in the chair before you can, pulling you back into her lap. you smirk, wiggling your hips back against her.

“what? i can’t feed myself?” you joke, twisting your body so you can face natasha just as wanda takes the seat adjacent to you both at the end of the table.

“no.” she replies simply, taking you a bit off guard. your remark was meant to be a light quip, but natasha seemed serious in her reply. without any further explanation, she grabs a plate from the small stack set in front of you and uses her fingers to grab two waffles to put on the dish.

you watch as she uses the fork to cut a square off the waffle before stabbing it through the center and bringing it up towards your lips. you press them together stubbornly, feeling embarrassed at the notion of being fed like a small child.

you were very independent by nature, having had to learn how to care for yourself at a very young age. the way wanda and natasha had the tendency to coddle you was pleasant, but still slightly foreign even after these past months.

natasha sees the internal conflict flicker over your face, coloring your features with a stubborn expression. she was learning though that at your core, you wanted to be a good girl.

“open up, detka,” she coaxes, delicately twirling her fork in teasing manner. you frown slightly, glancing from the fork over to wanda as if you were looking for her to intervene. she simply nods back towards the fork in an encouraging manner, not providing you with the out you were looking for.

figuring you should just bite the bullet and let natasha feed you, you part your lips and accept the bite of waffle she was offering you.

“we thought we could have a picnic lunch at central park today—does that sound fun?” wanda asks casually as she serves some berries on her plate. you nod your head in agreement, always eager to spend extra time with them on the weekends when you had no school and they didn’t have to go into the office.

as natasha continues to feed you your waffle, she sneaks in bites of her own. wanda reaches over after you swallow your last bite, holding a raspberry just inches from your lips. you don’t hesitate this time to open your mouth and allow her to feed you the berry. you chew the fruit thoughtfully, swallowing it and you notice wanda has a pleased expression on her face.

“you’re awfully cute, milaya, you know that?” wanda traces down the slope of your nose, gently pinching the softest part before dropping her hand. you open your mouth to protest, but knowing what you might say, natasha quickly feeds you another bite of waffle. you turn to face her, narrowing your eyes slightly at her playful force feeding.

you finish the rest of your breakfast without protest or complaint, allowing the two of them to spoil and baby you. once everyone was done, you all help to clean up the table. you always did your best to do your part, helping around the house and cleaning up after yourself. plus, you liked doing everything with them. you never wanted to miss a moment.

『 °*• ❀ •*°』

you rock back and forth on your toes, waiting for wanda and natasha to finish gathering all the things you need for the picnic. your hand is on the garage door handle, the door gently swaying from left to right as it rocks with your own movement. you feel carefree, not a single worry in your head. that was mostly thanks to both wanda and natasha coddling you this morning, but it was also the fact that you knew there was nothing to be stressed or worried about as long as you were with them.

natasha had dressed you today. it was late spring, so it was finally okay weather for things like summer dresses. you had on a maroon spaghetti strap dress going down to your mid thigh. you didn’t normally wear anything red or within the family of reds, but natasha insisted the color looked beautiful on your skin tone.

“i see someone is ready and eager to go,” natasha comments as she and wanda finally walk down the hallway leading to where you were standing by the garage door.

“i am! let’s go already!” your excitement is clear in your tone. it was the first day all week the three of you had time to really connect and unplug from all other responsibilities. you were waiting on pins and needles for finals to be over so you could finally enjoy your summer break, but for now—weekends would suffice.

natasha pinches your side on the way out as you hold the door open for them, wanda affectionately grabbing your chin and giving it a small squeeze. you follow after wanda, the door swinging shut behind you.

“can i drive??” you ask eagerly, already heading to the drivers side even though you hadn’t yet received an answer. they had three cars—one for natasha, one for wanda and one for “joy rides.” it was an indulgence natasha simply could not surpass, since she loved driving fast and had a secret love for lavish cars. she didn’t take it out much and you had yet to see wanda use it, but despite your desire to obey traffic laws like speed limits—you did want to try driving it someday.

“we’re not taking that car, bunny. we’re taking wanda’s. c’mon let’s go.” natasha gestures for you to get into the backseat on the drivers side. she started calling you bunny shortly after her and wanda both observed you hopped around like a little bunny whenever you were on your way to or fully in your floaty headspace. it was cute, but you had yet to admit to either of them just how much you liked it.

you pout at tasha’s response, but otherwise swiftly obey and climb into the seat behind her. despite it being wanda’s car, whenever the three of you went anywhere, natasha always drove. she claimed it was because she liked driving, but you were almost positive it was really because she didn’t think wanda drove fast enough.

“here, baby.” wanda stretches the cord for the aux cable so it can reach you. you slide to the middle seat, grabbing it from her and plugging your phone in.

as natasha pulls out of the garage, you buckle before either of them can throw a stink about it.

“what’re we feeling today?” you ask, referring to the music. you took having the aux very seriously. you never wanted anyone in the car to be having a miserable time listening to your music, so you always aimed to please to the best of your ability.

“not country.”

“anything really.”

the two of them answer in unison. you smile to yourself, your finger resting up against your lip as you scroll through different playlists, trying to decide what to play. you settle on your “vibey” playlist which had a lot of alternative and electronic music on it. it was one of your favorites to listen to.

you spend the first part of the drive staring out the window, watching the landscape as it zooms past the glass. it didn’t take long for you to start singing quietly to yourself—a habit of yours when you were zoning out. wanda notices immediately, smiling to herself and glancing back at you from the rear view mirror. trying to be discreet, she reaches for the volume, turning it down ever so slightly so she could hear you better. you didn’t like to sing for people, despite being told you had a good voice. you were sure people were just saying that because that’s the nice thing to say to people.

you stop singing altogether when wanda turns it down just a tad more and you suddenly decide your own voice sounds much too loud.

wanda scoffs, rolling her eyes as she turns her neck to look back at you. “you little sneak. why won’t you let us hear you sing?” she asks, seeming all too interested in your secret talent.

you shrug nonchalantly, flicking an imaginary piece of lint off the hem of your dress. you didn’t want to tell her it was because you were embarrassed. you’d learned that admitting such a thing would only lead to being more embarrassed about the thing you were already embarrassed about.

“i’ve heard her sing.” natasha cuts in, both you and wanda looking to her.

“you have not.” you rebuttal in disbelief, looking at her in the rear view mirror.

“i have. you sing in the shower.” she says simply, a smirk curving her lips upward. she seemed all too amused at your reaction for your liking.

“i’m so quiet when i sing in there! there’s no way you can hear it..” you insist, though really you were trying to push to see if she was being honest or just pulling your leg.

“it’s not too quiet when i have my ear pressed up against the door.” she sniffs, the car slowing down as you approach the city. the traffic would slow the drive immensely.

this side of natasha surprised you at first—the silly, almost boyish attitude she seemed to have at times. wanda’s personality was more straight forward. there were some things that surprised you and would probably continue to surprise you—but natasha? the many aspects of her personality were being peeled back layer by layer. in less than three months you’ve learned there’s much more to her than the big, scary, intimidating lawyer she was at the office.

“wow. just wow. thanks. now i have to revert to only singing whenever i have the house to myself.” you roll your eyes, only jokingly exasperated. natasha blindly reaches back behind her, squeezing your knee. you nudge her hand away, scooting so you weren’t so accessible.

“now that you said that, i’ll have to install cameras in the house—catch you in the act. i don’t want to miss anything.” she says, grinning to herself at the thought.

“hey!” you unbuckle your seatbelt, sitting forward and smacking her on the arm. “do. not. even think about it.” you try to sound stern, but it pales in comparison to how either of them sound when they mean business.

natasha locks eyes with yours in the rear view mirror, her expression easily meaner than yours. “do you want to try that again, little girl?” you cower immediately, sitting back against the back seat, your shoulders slumped forward.

you give her an apologetic look through the mirror, folding your arms in your lap.

“put your seatbelt back on, detka.” wanda commands in a gentle tone—more gentle than natasha’s tone just was. you’re hasty to comply, the buckle clicking in place just seconds after she asked you to. you were so obedient more times than not. it was something they both loved about you. you still had your testy moments, but by enlarge you really did like being their good girl.

many stoplights and cutting people off later, you arrive at the park. natasha parks in a metered spot on the south side. you hop out of the car, bounding off in the direction of where you intend to set up for the picnic.

“(y/n), slow down! wait for tasha and i.” wanda scolds you gently. you skip back over to her, almost running right into her side as you approach. “carefully bunny.” she steadies you but you can hardly care as you grin up at her, simply excited to be here with them.

“alright, let’s go.” she laces her fingers through yours with her free hand, the other carrying the blanket you would all sit on. natasha walks in front of the two of you, leading the way as she carries a decent-sized cooler in her hand.

once you make it to the grassy area, wanda picks a spot, laying the large blanket out neatly so there aren’t any lumps or wrinkles. natasha sets the cooler down and you plop down before the two of them have even begun to sink to the ground. you open up the lid to the food basket, setting out the plastic cutlery. wanda helps you divvy out the food—sandwiches and fruit. you pour yourself some homemade sweet tea, taking a sip and humming appreciatively to yourself. everything tasted better when it was made from wanda’s hands—or natasha’s for that matter, but wanda did much more cooking and food prep than natasha did.

you take a bite of your sandwich, wanda briefly explaining something about a client to natasha as you nibble away at your food. you were in your own little world, happy and content to be just where you were with the women you were with.

you were chewing another bite when someone from a distance shouted your name. natasha caught onto it before you did, her eyes scanning through the people scattered across the grass in small groupings.

you hear it the third time, relinquishing your hold on your sandwich to search for the person belonging to the voice calling your name. you press your hand against your forehead, attempting to shield the brightness of the sun so you could see better. your eyes suddenly zero in on the person shouting for you. it was your old roommate.

“hey!!!” you call back after her, leaping to your feet and half running the distance over to where she was standing. the two of you embrace happily, and you feel her squeeze you tightly before finally letting you go. you loved your old roommate. she was exactly the sort of person you wanted in your life forever. you wondered what she was doing back here so soon after moving back home.

“what’re you doing here?? did you bring your family?” you ask her, glancing around to see if you saw anyone else you recognized. she explained that she was with her parents and was going to spend the weekend taking them to the many touristy places the city had to offer.

as the two of you catch up, you excitedly relay to her how your studies were going and how the one professor that seemed to have it out for you was now much less harsh with feedback and grading. you left out the detail about how natasha was the one to take care of that—not feeling quite up to explaining your current situation with the two most respected and feared lawyers in new york city.

“so did you find a new roommate? i know the rent is damn near impossible to cover on your own..” your friend asks casually, flipping her pretty hair behind her shoulder. there was a time when you had a little crush on her, but she never knew about it.

“oh! uh.. not exactly. but! i did find a way to continue paying for it..” you reply vaguely, clearing your throat as you try and quickly think of a new topic of conversation. she beats you to it.

“what do you mean? did you finally cave and start selling feet pics?” she playfully nudges you with her elbow, reminding you of an old joke you used to pull out often. you laugh with her, though yours sounded a little nervous. you didn’t want to tell her how your rent, tuition and student loans were currently all being paid by previously mentioned, hot, successful lawyers.

it was a battle you picked with the two of them for weeks, insisting they didn’t need to pay for any of your things. however, the persisted and ultimately made you agree to the fact that, as long as you were their submissive, all of your financial needs would be taken care of by them.

“no, it’s not that,” your nervous laughter dies off and you awkwardly scratch the side of your arm, glancing in the direction of where wanda and natasha were sitting. your roommate follows where your eyes go, her own widening in slight surprise as she connects the dots.

“holy shit—are you with them??” she asks, vaguely pointing a finger in their direction. you shrug, smiling sheepishly as you suddenly feel like a little kid caught with their hand in the cookie jar.

“girl—what?! how??” you laugh lightly at her eager interest, placing a hand on her arm as you shush her. her excitement caused her voice to raise about two octaves.

“keep your voice down..” you chide although with a smile still on your face. you weren’t sure how to begin telling her the story. there was so much to it. you take a breath, preparing yourself to share the condensed version, but as you glance in wanda and natasha’s direction again, you notice the two of them are staring at you intently. the intensity of both their looks causes goosebumps to rise on your arms, your spine straightening. it was an unspoken command to come back.

“i probably shouldn’t keep them waiting any longer.. but i’ll call you soon and we’ll continue to catch up, yeah?” you smile, though you suddenly feel rushed to get back to your girlfriends’ side.

your roommate looks at you suspiciously but agrees nevertheless to have you call her another time. she pulls you into another embrace, and you give her a friendly squeeze, silently conveying your love and appreciation for her. you say your final goodbyes, your hands reached out to hold the other before dropping as you walk your separate ways.

as you approach the two women sitting on the quilted blanket, you opt for heading towards the one who currently has the more welcoming energy—natasha in this case—plopping down next to her.

“who was that?” she asks, looking back in your roommates direction as she walks off to meet back with her parents.

“my old roommate.” you reply simply, intent on returning to eating the sandwich you were enjoying before you got up to greet your friend. as nothing but silence met your response, you look up and glance in between wanda and natasha. wanda had a strange expression on her face—one you hadn’t seen before. her eyes were hard and serious, her lips pressed in a firm line, but there was something of a daring glint in her eye as if she was thinking something she wasn’t going to say out loud.

“you two seemed close,” she blurts out after several seconds. you take a bite of your sandwich, the food sitting heavily on your tongue as you chew it slowly. there was something about the change in wanda and natasha’s demeanor—wanda’s especially—that had you feeling a little uneasy.

“i mean, we lived together so we became kind of close. she’s a great friend.” you keep your tone light, sensing there was some.. jealousy? you couldn’t quite put your finger on what it was they were feeling about your interaction.

“you’re not..jealous..are you?” you look at wanda as you ask the question. natasha looks to wanda too, knowing all too well what was running through her mind.

wanda looks off into the distance, squinting slightly at the brightness of the sun and she smirks. “jealous? no. i just haven’t ever seen you interact with another girl your age before. i’m not sure i like it.” her tone was thoughtful, almost reminiscent. you study her expression, unsure how to take what she said before she inclines her head back towards you.

“oh.” you reply stupidly, no other response coming to mind. your eyes drift from wanda’s, looking off in the distance now just as she had before.

“(y/n).” wanda calls your attention back to her. your eyes snap back to her impossibly green ones.

“yes?” you reply softly.

“you belong to me—to us. you know that, don’t you?” she asks, sitting forward so she was leaning in your direction.

“yes.” you respond, nodding your head in quick agreeance.

“yes, who?” she prompts, quirking a perfectly kempt brow at you.

you swallow thickly, your eyes darting around your surroundings to see if anyone was standing close enough to hear. when your eyes meet wanda’s once more, you have a slight nervous expression on your face, feeling embarrassed at addressing her with her honorific in public.

“yes, mommy.” you relent with a quiet reply, wanting to please her despite your discomfort.

“say it all together now.” she directs, reaching out to grab your wrists. she guides you forward, pulling you till you’re sitting in her lap. you can’t help but glance anxiously around the park, hoping that nobody was paying close attention to this public display of affection.

your cheeks burn with embarrassment, the pink color on your cheeks complimenting the maroon dress you had on.

“i belong to you, mommy—you and daddy.” you half whisper, squirming in her lap as you fiddle with your dress, making sure all the important parts were still covered.

wanda smiles, pleased with your response despite your shyness. she caresses the back of your head, pecking your lips before looking over your shoulder to natasha.

“we’re going home.” she announces with an air of finality, leaving no room for questioning.

『 °*• ❀ •*°』

the drive back home was silent. you buckled in before natasha put the car into drive. wanda never offered you the aux, so you watched out the window quietly the whole way home. you were squirming in your seat, sensing a certain type of tension you were only now becoming accustomed too. you knew you weren’t in trouble, but something was going to happen. you were sure of it.

as natasha pulls into the driveway, you can feel butterflies flapping around in your stomach. there was dull ache between your thighs as you thought of the way wanda responded to your impromptu conversation with your old roommate. you didn’t realize it before now, but you decided you liked the idea of being owned—possessed. which was exactly what wanda was aiming to convey.

natasha puts the car into park and just as you’re unbuckling your seatbelt, wanda turns back to face you. “head straight upstairs into our bedroom. don’t take any clothes off for now. just wait for us on the bed.” she instructs you. you nod your head and hop out of the car, quickly making your way to the master bedroom from the garage.

your footsteps are quick and calculated; they echo off the walls as you bound up the stairs. as you approach the bedroom, you push open the door which was open a crack already. the bed was made and the room was free of clutter. normally this scene of cleanliness and order would put you at ease, but now, it only reminded you of the two women downstairs—and how neat they liked things to be kept.

you swallow thickly, turning to face the door as you sit on the end of the bed. your legs dangle just slightly, the bed tall enough that your legs didn’t quite reach the floor. you bounce one of them nervously, chewing on your bottom lip as you eye the open door. you can hear the garage door closing, indicating that wanda and natasha were now inside the house. you hear them exchange some words, though you’re unable to make out anything as it’s in russian. you can make out the sound of some rummaging, like dropping down bags and setting keys on the table. every second that passes, you feel your body growing more tense with anticipation. your eyes fall to the floor, focusing on one spot in which you make out imaginary shapes and lines.

your eyes snap back to the door frame when you hear two sets of footsteps heading up the stairs. from where you were sitting, you’d be able to see them as soon as they stood on the landing. you mentally brace yourself, your every sense alight.

it’s natasha you see first. her shoulder length blonde hair in delicate curls that frame her pretty face. her face is smooth, giving nothing away as her green eyes lock onto yours. you only glance away once wanda steps into view, her eyes appraising your compliance; you’d done exactly what she asked you to do.

natasha steps directly in front of you, her face a head above yours. you tilt your head up to look at her, your eyes alert and observant, but you’re unable to hide the gnawing sense of nervousness coursing through your body.

natasha leans down, your faces now just inches apart. she licks her lips, watching your cheeks bloom with color at her closeness.

“are you nervous, dragotsennaya?” her accent bleeds into her words, causing your thighs to clench unconsciously. you shrug one shoulder in a noncommittal gesture.

“maybe a little bit…” your voice is soft and delicate which doesn’t exactly not align with just how you’re feeling in this moment.

“maybe a little bit?” natasha echoes your words in an equally soft voice, her switch up of tone indicative of faux sympathy. your bottom lip juts out at her obvious teasing and your eyes dart to the side in search for wanda’s.

“you guys aren’t mad at me, are you?” you search for the gentleness normally residing behind wanda’s stare as you look at her. you can see a glimmer of it, but mostly you see a darkness there—something you’ve only gotten a small glimpse of before. it was the sort of look that made your bones melt, like she was silently trying to communicate her need to devour you.

“oh sweet girl.. we’re not mad at you. we just want to make sure we properly convey the way in which we own you.” wanda says, her words meant to be somewhat placating, but they had the opposite effect. she stalks towards you, standing right next to her wife. you look between the two of them with a blank expression on your face, your heart now beginning to race in your chest.

“i’m…i..i know that..” you sputter out. natasha reaches a hand up, rubbing her thumb along your bottom lip as you look at her wife with a pleading expression. pleading for what? you’re not sure.

“i know you do, baby. i just want to hear you say it over and over again…” wanda leans down, capturing your lips in a searing kiss that surprises you. your body leans back with the force of it, your hands hesitantly coming to rest on her biceps. wanda captures your wrists with her hands, pinning them behind your back as she nudges you back against the bed and covers your body with her own.

you whimper as she parts your lips with her tongue. the kiss was slow but forceful, your mind becoming cloudy the more she explored your mouth.

her free hand comes up and grabs under your chin, holding your face in place so you can’t escape even to take a breath. you were more so used to this aggression from natasha, not wanda, so it surprised you when she suddenly bit down on your lip, the force of it causing you to moan in surprise.

she breaks free, your lips parting with a resounding pop before she kisses down your neck. you gasp for air, your hands twitching in her grasp as they yearn to tangle themselves in her hair. you’re unable to linger on that thought though as you feel natasha’s fingers tracing along your thigh where your dress has ridden up.

“you look so pretty like this, milaya… gasping for air while my wife gives you little love bites.” natasha muses, her hand now grabbing a fistful of the fat of your thigh. you squirm underneath their touch, fighting more earnestly to get your arms free.

wanda relinquishes her attack on your neck with a firm bite, pulling away to admire her work. several blotches of purple and red are smattered across the skin, not too far off from the color of your dress.

“stand up.” wanda demands as she pulls you to your feet. you falter to the side, feeling unbalanced as you were suddenly upright. she doesn’t give you time to adjust before she’s pulling your dress over your head. you try to match her haste, reaching for her own clothes as she undresses you. she catches your wrists again, pinning them to your sides.

“oh no. not now, pretty girl. let’s not deviate from what this is really about.” she’s quick with removing your undergarments. as you stand there naked before the two of them, wanda pauses for the first time since she’s attacked you. you can see ideas forming together in her eyes as she drinks in your naked body.

“mogu li ya prikosnut'sya k ney seychas?” natasha asks her wife.

wanda appraises you for another moment, a smile stretching across her lips as she runs a finger down your arm.

“ty mozhesh' sdelat' bol'she, chem eto.” she responds, moving past you to crawl up the bed. you glance behind you, unsure what was going on. your skin felt like it was on fire, the anticipation causing your arousal to now start to drip down onto your thighs.

“come here.” wanda curls her finger, directing you to come sit on her lap from her spot on the bed. you crawl up to her, beginning to straddle her lap, but she stops you.

“ah ah, the other way.” she places her hands on your hips, turning your body so your back was against her front. she spreads her legs, settling you in between them. the fabric of her pants rubs against your bare legs, causing you to shiver. if it weren’t for your fuzzy brain, you might feel embarrassed about your nakedness and the lack thereof from both wanda and natasha.

natasha makes her way up onto the bed, her body slithering up as she maneuvers so she’s laying on her stomach, her face just inches away from your now weeping core.

“spread your legs wider, baby… yeah.. just like that.” wanda praises as she guides your legs apart so your feet were hooked under the outer part of her spread ankles.

“fuck, if this isn’t my new favorite sight..” natasha’s eyes drink in the two of you, your exposed body unable to sit still as you begin to grind your hips into the air. she runs her hands up the outside of your thighs, sliding inward. her finger teases your slit, running down and gathering the wetness collecting at your hole.

you whine, your back arching off wanda’s front into natasha’s touch. they were used to this—your whining and whimpering. you never said much when they had you all needy like this. you were much too shy for your own good.

natasha kisses up your thigh, her tongue darting out to taste the skin where there was a crevice where your thigh and core met. she moans at the flavor. your hands twitch again, drifting along your torso till they rest atop of natasha’s head.

“hands at your side. or mommy’s gonna have to tie them behind your back. do you understand?” wanda chides, moving your hands away from natasha’s hair. you pant, nodding your head against her.

“say it.” she demands.

“yes, mommy,” you whimper pathetically, your hips wriggling in between her thighs. your eyes drift closed, your head lolling against wanda’s shoulder as you try not to combust from the slow build up.

just when you thought you couldn’t take it anymore, natasha’s tongue slips in between your folds, licking along your slit. you gasp at the feeling of her hot breath as she works her mouth against you. your hips grind into her, her hands coming up to try and still your movements.

she hums against your pussy, your moans filling the air as she eats you out like you’re the most delicious thing to walk the earth.

wanda’s hands run up and down your sides, eventually settling on your breasts as she gives them both a firm squeeze. her fingers circle your pretty nipples as natasha’s tongue circles your clit. when wanda pinches your nipples, natasha sucks your clit into her mouth, and when wanda twists your nipples, natasha gently nibbles at your bundle of nerves. they moved so in sync with one another, you’d think this was a practiced routine. they played your body like an instrument they’d been practicing on for years.

moans and whines spill from your lips, your body wriggling around as much as the two women would allow you to.

“does this feel good, baby? do you like daddy’s tongue licking your pretty pussy while mommy plays with your sensitive little nipples?” wanda murmurs in your ear. you whine, nodding your head against her again.

“use your words, (y/n). tell me.” she pinches your nipples, twisting them harshly when you hesitate.

“y-yes mommy!” you gasp out, feeling natasha fuck two fingers inside of you. the stretch felt wonderful, the slight sting only adding to the pleasure you were feeling.

“hmm, you know something, little girl? nobody is ever going to make you feel this good. just mommy and daddy. our girl. our sweet, precious little girl..” as wanda speaks, natasha’s tongue and fingers move more quickly, bringing you closer and closer to your orgasm. you moan louder, the sounds higher in pitch, indicating you were getting close to falling over the edge.

“you can’t cum, baby. not until i hear you say you’re ours..” wanda speaks the words slowly, emphasizing the last word by tweaking your nipples.

“mmfph.. yours.. ‘m yours..” you pant, your hips grinding earnestly against natasha’s face now.

“louder.” she commands.

you arch your back again, your body writhing between the sensations blooming across your whole body as they expertly play with you.

“eto slishkom mnogo? is it too much, detka?” wanda coos, her tone contrasting with the roughness of her touch.

“please! please!! ‘m gonna cum!” you squeak, your words meant to be a warning as you knew you couldn’t hold it much longer.

“don’t you fucking dare. say it.” she says darkly. between wanda’s words, natasha’s fingers curling perfectly against your g spot and her tongue lapping at your clit while wanda tortures your nipples, you were about to implode.

“yours!! i’m yours!! i’m all yours! yours and daddy’s! no one else can make me feel this good!” you half shout in desperation, the coil about to snap.

“that’s it… come on baby, cum for us.” she croons, her lips directly against your ear. your body shakes, all your muscles tightening at once before you fall over the edge. your hips roll against natasha’s face in time with the waves of your orgasm. neither of them stop their ministrations until your body finally goes limp and you slump back against wanda.

natasha places one last searing kiss to your sensitive clit, chuckling softly as she leans up on her arms, pecking you on your lips.

“take some deep breaths, baby. we’re not done just yet.” she speaks softly, your eyes open but unfocused as you look at her. she caresses the side of your face and you barely register wanda’s hands caressing up and down your arms.

you whimper, your eyes closing as your body feels spent. you hear both of them chuckle at your expense, their hands sliding all over your sensitive skin.

you were in for a long evening.

——————————

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comment to be added :)

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