#a focus or a priority or the way it will be made

[thekoalapastriesbakery]

polyam!logan/lando with bat-eared fox!reader who is insecure about their appearance??

-bear

did a quick google search and i love bat-eared foxes thank you.

first of all, they're very supportive. they both have more than their fair share of insecurities. they also dealt with yours in very different ways.

lando focused a lot on how much he loved your ears. he made sure you knew every day that they were nothing to be ashamed of, and that he and logan loved you not despite your ears, but regardless of them. he definitely made several very over-dramatic speeches about how silly it would be to choose whether to date someone based on their ears.

logan's approach was more general. he knew you and the rest of the world focused on your ears a lot, so he reminded you of all your other lovely features. how much he liked your eyes. how pretty your smile was. your hair, your hands, your arms, your back ... logan wasn't picky when it came to complimenting you.

all of that said, when you're spiraling, their typical techniques are thrown out the window. priority number one is to distract you long enough to break the downwards trajectory. lando's go-to is either very fumbled attempts at seducing you or making an utter fool of himself. a lot of the time, that only works because he ends up accidentally injuring himself and your pack instincts overtake your social anxiety. logan's go-to is to just grab you and kiss you all over.

basically, they rely on being so silly that you can't possibly focus on your own negative self-image. they love you too much to let you think there's anything wrong with how you look.

[lith-myathar]

.

[canarydarity]

having a normal one watching Bdubs lim life tonight and thinking about how when Bdubs betrayed Tango in last life, Skizz told Tango that for the sake of team best he had to go and forgive him.

But when Bdubs boogey kills Skizz in lim life before team ties is even really formed, Skizz is allowed to have it out for Bdubs for almost the entire first half of the season, even when the clockers ally with them and it would've been easier to let sleeping dogs lie.

Tango, the perpetually extraneous and undervalued member of his alliances...the too often shoved aside and betrayed...being told it was his duty to the team to forgive bdubs and move on....

But no one—especially not Tango—tried to tell Skizz to let it go.

[lacomandante]

My dad and I rewatched Jonathan Strange and Mr Norrel again after a few years and then we argued over who was going to read the book first that's been collecting dust on the bookshelf. Needless to say I'm loving it and I was always daunted by its size. But on the other hand I start to read and my brain goes "ooooh this makes me motivated to work on my sharpe artwork, especially of him in yorkshire" and then when I do that I go "oooh but what about the fics?" and then I switch to the fics and then i'm like "reading is so nice. let's go back to that" adhd hell!!!!!

[rafecameronssl4t]

Can you please write one where Drew and reader are in a relationship and they have a big fight before an interview with the whole cast. When reader gets there she is really sad and she’s spacing out while fidgeting with her fingers and the others notice and she also skipped her meals and didn’t sleep well since he wasn’t next to her. Maddie Cline pulls her aside and talks to her to ask what’s wrong and she maybe tells her that she hasn’t eaten nor slept well and maybe Drew hears and is concerned. I just want some angst so if you want to write this PLEASE DO! <3

Behind the scenes || Drew Starkey x actress!reader

A/n: love love loveeee this idea tyy!!! keep them coming xx

Warnings: angst!!

Word count: 1,997

MASTERLIST

divider by @h-aewo

The morning light barely peeked through the curtains of the hotel room as the tension from the night before lingered like an unshakable weight. You and Drew had argued—something rare but emotionally exhausting. His words replayed in your mind, harsh in the heat of the moment, and you couldn't help but feel your chest tighten with regret and sadness. He'd stormed out after saying he needed some space, leaving you alone with a hollow ache.

The fight had been about something trivial at first, but it spiralled into uncharted emotional territory—questions of priorities, insecurities, and your relationship's strength. Drew's absence from the bed that night only made things worse, and you barely slept, staring at the ceiling as anxiety gnawed at you.

Morning came all too soon, and the looming cast interview offered no reprieve. You avoided breakfast, your appetite nonexistent as you focused on pulling yourself together for the day. But no amount of makeup could hide the dark circles under your eyes, and your usual spark felt dimmed as you arrived at the studio.

Arriving at the studio, you took a deep breath and stepped inside, your heart heavy and your mind scattered. Maddie spotted you immediately, her face lighting up with a radiant smile. Her enthusiasm was unrelenting as she crossed the room, her arms wide open. “Oh, there you are!” she exclaimed, wrapping you in a warm hug. Her energy was infectious, but you felt yourself faltering as you tried to match her cheerfulness.

“I’m so glad you’re here! The other girls haven’t arrived yet.” You forced a smile, nodding as if to reassure her—and maybe yourself. “Yeah, glad to be here,” you said, your voice softer than usual. Maddie chuckled, looping her arm through yours. “Come on, I brought muffins. Figured we could snack while getting touch-ups,” she said, leading you toward the hair and makeup station.

You followed her, your heart sinking slightly when you caught sight of Drew in the reflection of the mirror. He was across the room with Chase and Austin, laughing softly at something they said. He hadn’t even glanced your way yet, and it stung more than you wanted to admit. Maddie broke you out of your thoughts, nudging you with a muffin in hand. “Want one? They’re fresh—blueberry, your favourite!” You hesitated, glancing at the pastry before offering a polite smile.

“No, thanks. I already ate on my way here,” you lied, hoping she wouldn’t push further. Maddie nodded, accepting your answer without question. “Suit yourself,” she chirped, taking a bite as the stylists began fussing over your hair and makeup. Your eyes wandered back to the mirror, catching another glimpse of Drew. He looked so at ease, as if the fight hadn’t affected him the way it had you.

The longing for some kind of acknowledgment, a sign that he felt as torn as you did, was overwhelming. But instead of confronting those emotions, you turned your attention to Maddie, who was now scrolling through her phone, chatting animatedly with the stylist. You tried to focus on her words, but everything felt distant, your mind weighed down by the unresolved tension between you and Drew. The room buzzed with activity, yet you felt isolated, your usual spark dimmed to a faint flicker.

~

The interview began with its usual lighthearted energy. The host dove into questions about the upcoming season, sparking animated responses from your castmates. Chase cracked jokes that had everyone laughing, while Austin shared a funny behind-the-scenes story that even made the crew chuckle. Madelyn chimed in with her signature enthusiasm, lighting up the room with her vibrant energy.

But you sat quietly, your faint smile barely masking the storm swirling within. The tightness in your chest only grew with every passing moment, your focus slipping further away from the lively discussion. When a laugh rippled through the room, you managed a soft chuckle out of habit, but it lacked conviction. Your hands betrayed your inner turmoil.

They fidgeted endlessly in your lap, fingers twisting your rings, picking at your nails, and smoothing invisible wrinkles in your outfit. The subtle, restless movements didn’t go unnoticed. Madelyn’s eyes darted to your trembling hands, then to your face, where she saw the strain you were trying so hard to conceal. When the cameras cut for a break, she leaned closer, her tone soft but edged with worry.

“Are you okay?” she whispered, her eyes searching yours. You nodded quickly, forcing a weak smile that didn’t reach your eyes. “Just tired,” you murmured, your voice low and unsteady. Madelyn didn’t look convinced, her brow furrowing further as she studied you. But she chose not to press the issue, giving you a reassuring pat on the arm instead. As the cameras rolled again, you tried to centre yourself, to focus on the questions and the easy camaraderie around you.

But your mind wandered. The fight with Drew replayed in fragmented flashes, every word, every sharp look, haunting you. You felt the weight of his absence, the space he used to fill beside you now a gaping void. It wasn’t until the host directed a question at you that you were jolted back into the present. “So, what was your favourite scene to film this season?” There was a beat of silence, then another, as you struggled to process the words.

Your castmates exchanged subtle glances, the pause growing more noticeable by the second. “Obviously all the scenes with me,” Madelyn interjected smoothly, her voice light and playful as she leaned forward to cover for you. The room relaxed, a ripple of laughter breaking the tension, but you felt your cheeks flush with embarrassment. It was then that Drew’s head snapped toward you, his casual demeanour faltering.

His brow creased as he studied you, his eyes narrowing at the pale tone of your skin and the exhaustion etched into your features. His gaze flicked to your hands, noting the nervous tremor and how you played with the ring on your finger. His jaw tightened, and guilt churned in his chest. The easy laughter that had come so naturally to him earlier now felt misplaced, almost cruel. How had he missed it before—the signs that something was wrong, that you weren't okay?

Drew couldn’t stop himself from watching you for the rest of the segment, the concern etched into his features growing more evident with every passing second. His own words from the fight echoed in his mind, and the regret settled in his chest like a stone. He’d been too caught up in his frustration to notice how deeply it had affected you. And now, as he saw the toll it had taken, all he wanted was to fix it.

~

"Okay, we have a 10 minute break," The producer says as you're the first to get out of your seat as the others watch with slight confusion, already undoing your mic. "Y/n!" Maddie calls out as you walk towards your hair and makeup chair. You look at yourself in the mirror, letting out a shaky breathe you touch up your makeup.

Maddie stands behind you, her hands on your shoulder as she studies you. “Alright,” she began, her tone both soft and firm, “spill it. What’s going on? You’ve been acting strange, I know you're not just tired. Talk to me," You hesitated, the weight of her care making the knot in your throat tighten further. Your hands wrung together nervously, fingers fidgeting with your rings as you tried to find the words.

“I…” You paused, your voice trembling. You gaze looks up as you catch a glimpse of Drew. Maddie notices, turning her head to where you were looking. The overwhelming emotions finally bubbled to the surface, your eyes misting with unshed tears. “Drew and I had a fight last night.” Her brows furrowed, but she stayed silent, giving you space to continue.

“It was bad,” you admitted, your gaze dropping to the floor as a tear slipped down your cheek. “He… he left, Maddie. And I couldn’t sleep. I’ve barely eaten. I just—” Your voice broke, and you inhaled shakily, struggling to keep yourself composed. Madelyn’s eyes softened with understanding, and without hesitation, she pulled you into a warm embrace.

Her arms wrapped securely around you as she whispered gently, “Oh, babe… I’m so sorry.” She pulled back just enough to meet your watery gaze. “Whatever happened, I know you two will work it out. You’re good together. But you’ve got to take care of yourself, okay? Skipping meals, losing sleep—it’s not going to help.” Her words struck a chord, grounding you for a moment, but before you could respond, a subtle shift in the air caught Madelyn’s attention.

She glanced over her shoulder and froze briefly, her expression flickering with a mix of surprise and hesitation. Unbeknownst to you, Drew had wandered in. “Hey.” Drew’s voice was low and tentative, cutting through the noise of the studio. Maddie gives your shoulders a light squeeze, giving you an encouraging smile as she leaves the two of you. You glanced up at Drew through the reflection of the mirror in front of you, his presence catching you off guard.

His features were etched with raw concern, and his blue eyes held an apology that words hadn’t yet expressed. “Can we talk? Please?” he asked, his voice laced with vulnerability. You hesitated for only a moment before nodding, unable to resist the weight of emotion in his gaze. You nodded, and Drew quietly pulled a chair close to yours. As he sat down beside you, he extended a hand toward you. Though your fingers trembled slightly, you placed yours in his, the contact sparking an immediate sense of familiarity.

Yet, there was a fragility to it, as if he was holding on to something he feared might slip away. He brought your hand to his lips and pressed a soft kiss on your knuckles. The gesture was tender, full of unspoken remorse, and it made you briefly close your eyes against the wave of emotion crashing over you. “I’m sorry,” he began, his voice cracking slightly. The sincerity in his tone tugged at your heart, making your chest tighten. “I shouldn’t have left last night. I shouldn’t have said those things. I was frustrated—but that doesn’t excuse it. You didn’t deserve that.”

You blinked rapidly as tears welled in your eyes, threatening to spill. “It wasn’t just you,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. “I said things too. I just… I hated the way we left things. It felt so wrong.” The guilt in his expression deepened, and he reached up, his thumb brushing away a tear that escaped and trailed down your cheek.His touch was warm, tender, and familiar, and it made your heart ache with longing and relief all at once.

“I hated it too,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “I couldn’t stop thinking about it—or about you. And then hearing Maddie say that you didn’t sleep or eat…” He trailed off, shaking his head in frustration with himself. “You’re too important to me. I can’t stand the thought of you feeling like this because of me.” You inhaled shakily, his words chipping away at the tension that had been building in your chest since the night before. “I don’t want us to fall apart either,” you said softly, your voice trembling but earnest.

You stand up, moving towards him as he moves the chair back to let Without thinking, you stood and moved toward him. Drew instinctively pushed his chair back slightly, giving you room to settle in his lap. You wrapped your arms around him, burying your face in his shoulder, while his arms encircled your waist protectively. He pressed you close, his hand resting against the small of your back as his thumb rubbed soothing circles on your waist. “We’ll be okay,” he murmured into your hair, his voice steady despite the emotion behind it. “I promise.”

[youvebeenlivingfictional]

reunion

Pairing: Art Donaldson x Reader

Rating: Explicit - 18+ only. minors, please get off my lawn.

Notes: Not beta-read because when is it ever.

Length: 4.5K

Warnings: Slow burn; unrequited love; angst; yearning; divorced Art Donaldson; oral sex (female receiving); vaginal sex; safe sex

Summary: It wasn't that Art Donaldson was the one that got away. It was more like Art Donaldson was the one that never really knew you existed.

"Did you hear Art Donaldson is supposed to be here?"

The question is whispered behind you and makes your hand freeze in its signing. You're half-bent over the table at reception, fingers tight around a pen as your mind is jogged.

No way was he turning up, that's what Anne had said.

Tashi will be there, she's the head of the goddamn reunion committee, the ink is still wet on their divorce—that's what Anne had said. Hell, she'd sworn it.

So what the hell is he doing here?

The sound of your name jogs your attention and you manage to finish signing in. You straighten, taking up your name tag and haphazardly slapping the adhesive onto your top. You need a drink, and quickly. You're halfway to the bar before you feel someone wind their arm through yours.

"Okay, I know you didn't wanna come—"

"Anne."

"And I so appreciate you being here so that I didn't have to come alone—"

"Anne—"

"But I got some news and it's going to be a little shocking so I think you should hear it from me—"

"I know he's here."

"What?" Anne freezes, her arm dropping from yours. You turn to see her looking stricken, her cheeks pinking with panic and embarrassment. You sigh softly, glancing around your fellow alumni. Less than half of them look familiar; your eyes catch on the odd face before you realize that you're inadvertently looking for him.

"Look, there are, like...Five hundred people here, alright?" You add. "I probably won't even see him."

"We can go."

"Look, we made the trip, we're here, we may as well stay. It's fine, okay? We're all adults here! It doesn't matter!" Your insistence is chased by a slightly hysterical laugh. "It was, like, a hundred years ago."

"...You're sure?"

"I am positive."

Positive that you need a drink, and positive that you're going to regret agreeing to stay.

--

It wasn't that Art Donaldson was the one that got away. It was more like Art Donaldson was the one that never really knew you existed.

You were friends, sure. You palled around, had a few classes together, hung out at a few parties—but he was so in love with Tashi Duncan that you'd never made his romantic radar. You'd forced yourself to believe that that was for the best, that you didn't need his love or romantic validation to be happy. But you couldn't pretend that wanting him didn't sting.

He'd had a couple of girlfriends while you were at Stanford, but you could always feel, always see that they were never really his priority. It was Tashi, then tennis, then them.

The two of you had kept touch a little after college, but you'd pushed yourself to move on. Conversation had begun to fade, and when he hadn't tried to keep it up, you had resolved to let him go.

You'd avoided his name in the news as much as you can, but it had been hard. He was on billboards, packaging, tv—it was like you couldn't escape him.

Want melted to sadness; sadness shifted to annoyance; annoyance hardened into disdain. You couldn't see his likeness or hear his name without rolling your eyes. It wasn't his fault, of course, but the prospect of running into Art fuckin' Donaldson made you queasy.

Still, you put on a brave face for Anne, forcing your focus into conversation.

It's a struggle to keep your gaze from seeking him out. You take each sip with a little white lie, convincing yourself that you're looking to make sure you can avoid contact. You spot Tashi a couple of times, but you don't go out of your way to say hello. She's surrounded by a cloud of people—taking pictures, signing programs and name tags and old Duncanator shirts.

When Anne insists on going to say hello, you force a small smile.

"You, um—you go ahead," You nod, taking a couple of steps back. "I'm gonna get some air."

Anne's dark eyes flit over you questioningly before she blessedly lets it go, nodding and going on her way. You turn, swiping a fresh drink off of a passing waiter's tray as you leave.

It takes a few moments for the buzz of conversation to clear from your head. You take a gulp of the prosecco, wrinkling your nose. It's a little sweeter than you usually like, and doesn't mingle well with the three other drinks that you've downed. Tashi's not going to find your lack of presence or greeting conspicuous; you'd been cordial and on speaking terms in college, but the two of you had never been close.

Damn, but it's chillier outside than you thought it would be. The reception had been so warm, so crammed with people. Paired your head being near-permanently on a swivel, you hadn't realize how hot and tense you'd been.

You frown at the waft of cigarette smoke that catches your nose. Who the hell is still smoking in this day and age—

"Are you hiding, too?"

Maybe you can feign that you didn't hear him—that the sound of his voice didn't jog a hundred memories and trigger a flurry of butterflies. But before you can stop yourself, you turn, the words, "I thought you quit smoking," tumbling out of your mouth.

Art's smile widens as he draw the cigarette back from his lips, a stream of smoke pushed out of the side of his mouth.

"I did. Quit quitting, though." He takes one more puff before he flicks it away, drifting closer. "Hi."

Hi, like it's not the first time you've seen him in the better part of a decade. Hi, like neither of you are oceans from where you where when you last saw one another.

"Hi," You manage. He doesn't hesitate to draw you into his arms; he seems to almost do it without thinking. You only allow yourself a moment of resistance before you raise and curl your arms around him. The clean scent of his pressed jacket and woodsy cologne are muddled with smoke. The fingers of one if your hands curls covetously in the fabric of his jacket as his palms smooth gently over your back. You hear him draw in a deep breath, feel him hold it, and then release it with a soft hum.

"How the hell are you?"

Probably better than you are these days.

You shrug a little, mumbling, "Fine."

He draws away, eyes skating across your face.

"You don't sound so sure about that."

"I'm sure."

"Yeah?"

"Mhm."

You can feel him winding up for another pass at it, but you hold your glass out before he can. His fingers brush against yours as he drains it.

"Why are you hiding?" You ask. He shrugs, nods toward the door.

"It's a lot in there. I forgot what these events are like."

"People wanna congratulate you. They're proud."

"Are you?"

"I am, but I'll hold off. Don't wanna crowd you."

Your attention is drawn from Art's smile as you hear someone clearing their throat over the speaker system inside:

"If we could have the reunion chairpersons to the stage, please!"

You glance toward Art and find him fidgeting, his thumb smoothing across his bare ring finger.

"…Do you wanna go back in?" You offer. He considers before he says, "Wait here."

You watch curiously as he darts inside, and are stunned when he reappears a moment later. You just barely catch a glimpse of the bottle of champagne clenched in his fist before he rests his other hand on your lower back, steering you away with an urgent murmur of, "C'mon."

--

"I'm surprised you came," You tell him. Art doesn't look at you for a moment, and you take the chance to lean back against the hard plastic seat. He's as beautiful as he was the last time the two of you were together, the night before graduation—practically in the same seats. You don't know if he was thinking about that when he'd led the way into the stands, chosen where to sit. Maybe it was pure muscle-memory.

Either way, you don't know how long the two of you have been sitting out there, knees bumping, passing the bottle back and forth. You take in his profile—the slope of his nose and cut of his jaw; the bob of his adam's apple as he swallows.

"My therapist said it would be good," He finally admits. "Told me I needed to get out more, start getting back into events, work at the foundation...What about you, huh?" He turns, brows raising. "You always told me that you hated this stuff."

You're surprised he remembers.

"I do hate this stuff, but," You shrug. "Anne didn't want to come alone."

"You're a good friend. I never forgot that." He sits up and passes the bottle back to you. "What happened to us, huh?"

"What do you mean?"

"Why did we stop talking?"

I couldn't keep begging for scraps of attention.

"I don't know," You deflect. "Guess we just lost touch. It happens."

"I shouldn't have let it happen to us."

You look down at the bottle, sweeping your finger across a slipping drop of condensation.

"You were busy."

"You weren't?"

"Not in the same way," You laugh self-consciously.

"What were you busy with then, huh?" He shifts, thigh pressing against yours. "You used to always say you'd uh—burn out by twenty-six."

"Yeah."

"Did you?"

"Oh, it didn't take nearly that long."

"What!" He laughs. "What the hell happened?"

"I don't know what to tell you, man. A girl can only take a soul-sucking marketing job for so long."

"So what do you do now?"

"Still in marketing, but I'm a manager, so. Still soul-sucking, but making a little more money."

"You like it?"

"God no, but I don't know what else I would do." You pass the bottle back.

"Could find something for you at the foundation."

You wrinkle your nose, shaking your head as Art sputters a laugh, asks, "What?"

"Don't do that, Art."

"Don't do what?"

"I don't need, you know—"

"We could use you—"

"You don't even know what I do at work."

"I bet it's great—"

"You don't even know if I'm a good worker—"

"Sure I do, I know you."

"No, you don't!"

You know it's a mistake the second it leaves your mouth. Art's smile wavers as he leans away again.

"I just mean—" You try.

"I know what you mean. It's been a long time."

"...Yeah, it has." You take the bottle back, drawing deeply from it before passing it back. "I should get going. I'm sure Anne's looking for me."

"Sure."

You don't say goodbye or tell him that it was nice to see him. You just make as hasty a retreat as you can without tripping over your feet.

--

@ a_donaldsonofficial requested to follow you. 3h

You're not sure what surprises you more—the follow request or the message in your DMs: Dinner?

--

His groan is sinful and low, and makes you rethink ever losing contact with the guy. Under the warm glow of the diner's lights, his eyes slip shut, fingers tightening around the bun.

"...When's the last time you had a burger?" You finally manage to ask.

"I can't remember." He admits it through the mouthful, and you don't begrudge him the couple of flecks of food that land on the table. You smile, plucking up a couple of fries.

"Art?"

"Mm."

"Why'd you ask me to dinner?"

Art sets the burger down as he swallows, taking off his napkin to clean off his hands.

"I was thinking...About what you said at the reunion."

"Mhm."

"About me not knowing you. You're right. But you know what?" He presses on before you can process your surprise. "I don't think you know me, either."

You think for a moment, brows furrowing. He's right. You know the image of Art Donaldson that's been projected to you over the years—on tv screens, in magazines, in online clips.

"...I don't think I do," You agree.

"Figured we should fix that. Catch up, fill each other in on what we've missed."

"Okay."

"So, after college..." He trails off, waving his hand. "Fill me in."

"Moved to New York."

"Uh-huh."

"Working in marketing."

"Burned out before 26—"

"Yeah, hit my capitalistic peak at 23."

"That fast?"

"I mean, that's the last time I remember giving a shit about work, so. Yeah."

"Relationships?"

"...A couple," You admit.

"Serious?"

"Yeah. One."

"Married?"

"No. Engaged." His eyes drop to your bare left hand, and you hurriedly tuck it into your lap. "Formerly engaged."

"What happened?"

"It just didn't feel right. I don't think either of us were ready."

"...Was it anyone I knew? I don't remember you dating much at school."

"Guess I didn't."

"You weren't shy."

"Well no, but—"

"So what was it?"

"I had the worst crush on you, dude!" It's another mistake, but where the last one seemed to make Art retreat, this one leaves his gobsmacked. His eyes widen, mouth opening in a wide smile.

"You what?"

"Oh, kay, you know what—"

"I had no idea!"

"I was very subtle."

Art leans back in the diner booth, watching you openly. You can see the gears turning in his head, and you wonder what he may be remembering, holding up and twisting about in this new light.

"...Huh," He mutters.

"You can feel free to forget that at any time."

"I don't think I will...I wish I'd known."

You consider for a moment before you shrug. "I don't know. I'm kinda glad that you didn't."

"Really?" His brows knit with confusion. "Why?"

"I don't like coming second, Art."

Art nods slowly, and you see something tight pass across his face before it's smoothed away again.

"You know what?" He smiles bitterly. "Neither do I."

You nod toward his plate.

"Your burger's getting cold."

--

"So, uh..." Art clears his throat as the two of you take slow, drifting steps to your car. "I'm gonna say two things, and I don't want you to think that they've got anything to do with what you said earlier."

You know exactly what he means, but you just grumble, "I said a lot of things earlier."

"I think we both know which one I'm talking about."

"Uh-huh. So what's up?"

"...I wanna see you again."

"Okay."

"But things are a little...Messy right now. Tashi and I are working on getting Lily into a regular rhythm and it's harder than we thought it would be."

You lean back against your car, tucking your hands into your pockets.

"Mhm...I hesitate to ask."

"Yeah."

"How does this have to do with what I said earlier?"

"I just don't want you to think that this is—"

"A consolation prize?"

"Something like that."

"Whatever you need to do to get in a good place with Lily is fine, Art, you don't need to justify that to me."

"Even if it means you come second?"

You tip your head to the side, pursing your lips. "It's different when it's your kid. I meant that I didn't want to be second to—You know."

"...Yeah," He mutters, looking at his feet as he takes another foot forward. "And for the record, I was thinking of asking you out again by the time we sat down."

"You could've changed your mind."

"I didn't. And I don't want to."

You smile, nodding. "Well I don't want you to, either." You straighten up as you fish into your bag for your keys. "Call me the next time you're in New York."

"Sure."

You reach out, cupping his cheek and leaning in, pecking his cheek. You pull away, smiling at the flush creeping across his face.

"Goodnight, Art."

"Night."

--

It isn't easy at first. Messages are far and few, mostly how are yous and how was your days. You think that as nice as the little swell of contact has been, that's all it'll be—but the two of you both start to really try. The odd text becomes the weekly phone call. Weekly phone calls become daily FaceTimes. On the nights when he has Lily, they're late, usually when you're getting ready for bed. On the nights when he's on his own, the two of you eat dinner together and chat over your calls. It isn't always perfect, but it's more than you could've anticipated from that dinner a couple of months ago.

--

"She down?"

"Yeah."

"Are you in a hotel again?"

"...Yeah." Art seems to admit it grudgingly, and you smile a little as you take up your toner and a cotton pad.

"There's nothing wrong with leaning into it if it's working," You argue. "And not to be that bitch, but you're not exactly broke."

"Might be if she keeps ordering room service and movies on-demand."

You laugh softly, turning your attention to your reflection as you swipe the toner across your face.

"How's your day been?" Art asks.

"Fine, standard. I had to fill out an assessment ahead of my annual review."

"When's that?"

"End of the week."

"How do you feel about it?"

"Mm," You shrug reaching for a serum. "Fine, I guess. I'm doing okay, my team's hitting their targets."

"You're doing better than okay."

"Art."

"You are."

"Well. Thank you for that." You glance over as he goes quiet, catching a glimpse of him as you smooth the serum into your skin. You raise your brows at the sight of his gentle, warm smile. "What is it?"

"You're beautiful."

Your face goes warm at the compliment, and you bite the inside of your cheek to tamp down your wide, idiotic smile.

"You are tired, huh," You deflect.

"I mean it."

"...I know," You murmur, reaching for your moisturizer. "Tell me what you got up to today."

"I had a meeting at the foundation. We're starting planning for the gala."

"Oh yeah? Have you done them before?"

"We've had three before, but I was usually playing or training, so I haven't been as involved in the planning."

"How's it been?"

"We're still in the preliminary stages, but it's been interesting, you know, seeing how the pieces come together before I usually see them."

You nod, picking the phone up from the mirror holder and heading into your bedroom.

"Where are you gonna have it?"

"We're still scouting locations...As a matter of fact," Art adds, "We're considering a few in New York."

"Oh?"

"I'll be down there for at least a few days, and I wanna see you."

You grin bashfully as you climb into bed, settling against your pillows.

"I wanna see you, too. Are you gonna, um—I mean, is Lily gonna be with you?"

"No, it'll be Tashi's weekend."

"Okay, cool. Just wanna make sure I don't mess up your time."

"I appreciate that." Art's tongue swipes across his lower lip, eyes sweeping across your face. "I gotta say..."

"Mmm?"

"I'm looking forward to seeing your apartment."

"Oh, really?" You chuckle. "Why's that?"

"It'll be interesting, that's all. I mean, you already take me to bed every night."

You laugh, covering your eyes as you groan, "Oh, god, shut up!" as Art chuckles.

"Let me know when you're free," You add. "Your schedule's gonna be weirder than mine."

"Yeah, I will, as soon as I know what it is." You watch as Art lays down, propping his phone up on the nightstand. "...Can you stay on?"

"Yeah," You soothe, setting your phone on the nightstand in suit. "Until we fall asleep."

"Okay," He murmurs. The two of you settle in on your sides, watching one another on the phone.

"Night, Art."

"Sweet dreams."

--

The restaurant is picked. Your nails are done, your hair is done; you get a new dress, new shoes, a new bag. You're going to have an amazing night—a good dinner, a great conversation, and, if you have any luck, an amazing good night kiss.

--

You know the minute you see him that you're not making it to the restaurant. Art's eyes sweep over you in covetous wonder when you open the door. He closes the gap between the two of you, drawing you into his arms, and this time you go without a second thought. He presses his face into your neck, letting out a gentle hum at the scent of your perfume. The tip of his nose trails up over your jaw, his lips brushing the corner of your lips as his forehead rests against yours. He sighs as you draw in a nervous breath, and he sways in, lips pressing to yours.

You raise your hand to cup his neck, shivering as his hands smooth over your hips. He guides you deeper inside, blindly reaching back and shoving the door shut behind you as you fling your purse toward the bench in your entryway. His kisses grow hungrier as he steers you down the hall. You slip your tongue along his, smoothing your hand up to grasp his hair. Your fingers fumble with the buttons on his shirt, exposing more of his pale, muscled chest to you. He slides down the zipper on the back of your dress and leans away just long enough to draw the dress up over your head. His eyes sweep across you, taking in your lingerie.

You hook your thumbs under the band of your underwear, giving them a teasing wiggle as you back further away from him. You expect him to follow, but he steers you back against the wall, dropping his head to suck hot kisses along your neck and down to your chest. He yanks one of the cups of your bra down, taking your nipple into his mouth. You bite your lip, tipping your head back against the wall and whining as he slots his knee between your thighs. You roll your hips down against the hard muscle as he laves and teases your nipple, reaching up to thumb and tweak the other.

"Art—Mm, god that feels so good."

He groans against your skin, trailing his kisses further down as he lowers himself to his knees. You look down as he curls his fingers around your panties—and waits. You smile softly, nodding, murmuring, "Please?"

Art grins, pressing a kiss to your hip before he gently eases the fabric down, waiting for you to lift your feet so he can fling them away. He leans in, swiping his tongue across your aching clit. Your knees would knock if he wasn't wedged between them. You draw in a shallow breath, letting your head tip back as he draws your leg over his shoulder. You shiver at the feeling of the chilly air against your heated, slick flesh. He nuzzles and laps against your cunt, taking each tip of your hips in stride. His hand smooths up your trembling inner thigh, giving your ass a gentle squeeze before he teases a finger into you. You whimper at the touch, unable to help the way your pussy clenches around it.

Art groans at the feeling, turning his head to smear his lips slips against your hip.

"Goddamn," He breaths against you.

"More."

You feel more than hear his gentle chuckle as he eases another finger in.

"Need it bad, huh?"

"You have no idea."

"I'm getting a pretty good idea." He turns his head, leveling a sucking kiss to your clit that makes you cry out. You tighten your grip on his hair as he pumps his fingers harder, curling and scissoring them as he pushes you closer to the edge.

"Art—Mm, god, fuck, yes—Yes—" Your toes curl in your shoes as your hips rabbit down against his face and fingers, chasing the swell of your orgasm. You look back down as he draws back and find his lips and chin shining with your juices.

"Bed," He urges.

"You can fuck me right here."

Art laughs, standing and smoothing his hand over your thigh.

"We're doing this right."

"We could be doing this right...." You slid your hand down his chest to palm his cock through his pants. "Here."

You grin as Art's eyelids flutter, his dick twitching against you.

"Bed," He insists again.

It isn't far to go, and the two of you are entirely bare by the time you get there. You scooch back onto the bed, spreading your legs as he rolls on a condom. He's over you a moment later, and you watch the bulge of his biceps as he braces his hands on either side of your head. You bite your lip as you feel the brush of his cock against your entrance. You reach down, grasping his cock and guiding him closer.

You tip your head up, tongue teasing the seam of his lips as he eases into you. You melt into the mattress as he crushes against you, filling you completely. You wrap your arms around his shoulders, sliding your legs over his, as if you'll manage to fuse the two of you together. Art's tongue swirls around yours before he captures your lips in a kiss, rolling his hips slowly.

"More," You plead, but Art keeps his pace achingly steady, even when you try to pick up the pace.

"You feel so fucking good," He breathes, "Even better than you taste."

"Harder, Art, please, god damn, please," You whimper. He tips his head to the side nipping at the hinge of your jaw as he reaches down, hiking your hip up even higher. Your mouth fell open with a stunned moan as he presses deeper, the slap of his hips filthily filling the stifling air around you. You arch up against him, nails raking down his back as you feel the swell of another orgasm.

"Art."

"Yeah?"

"Mhm—Fuck, almost—"

"That's it." He sucks his fingers between his lips before he slips them between your bodies, swiping across your tender clit. You begin to close your eyes, but he tuts softly.

"Don't—Don't close your eyes—Look at me," He orders between breaths. You force yourself to focus on Art, taking in the flush on his cheeks, his almost dazed eyes.

"You, too—" You urge.

"Yeah—"

"Oh—yeah," You gasp, unable to keep your gaze on his you cum. You feel Art's hips slap roughly against yours before he slows, groaning low in his chest. You draw in a deep breath as your heart pounds in your chest, sinking back against your pillows as he settles down over you. You smooth your hand over his nape, smiling as he nuzzles against your shoulder, dropping tender kisses to your skin.

"...Art?"

"Yeah?"

"I think we're going to be late for dinner."

--

"You know, I've been thinking."

"You've been doing a lot more than thinking, mister," You mutter, and grin as Art laughs. You cuddle closer against his side, nuzzling into his chest as he tightens his arm around your shoulders.

"I'm glad I didn't know you liked me in college."

"Really?" You tip your head up, brow furrowing. "Why's that?"

"...I wasn't ready for you back then." He smooths his fingers along your jaw, eyes wandering your face contemplatively. "It's like you said, you know. You would've come second."

You nod, turning your head to press a kiss to his palm.

"I don't think I was ready for you, either," You admit. Art smiles.

"And you are now?"

"More than."

Tag list: @missredherring ; @fantasticcopeaglepasta ; @massivecolorspygiant ; @blueeyesatnight ; @amneris21

@ew-erin ; @youngkenobilove ; @carbonated-beverage​​​ ;  @moonlightburned ; @milf-trinity

@millllenniawrites ; @chattychell ; @thembosapphicclown ; @brandyllyn ; @wildmoonflower ;

@buckybarneshairpullingkink ; @mad-girl-without-a-box ; @winchestershiresauce ; @lorecraft ; @kmc1989

[tojisun]

cw: john price x f!reader - older man/younger woman; 18+

john makes you feel beautiful. he dotes on you like you are his doll, splurging everything he’s got until you’re all spoiled.

“m’gonna be y’r rotten girl,” you told to him once, giggling, and john had just hummed as he gathered you in his arms, pulling you up until you’re both chest to chest. he breathed you in, his scruff tickling your jaw, his hands finding purchase along the pudge of your waist.

“i’d love you either way, baby,” john said like his words just didn’t lay waste on you.

you nodded, quiet and shy, your cheeks thrumming with warmth, and john kissed your silence away, murmuring nothings about how he could not wait to dress you up, to see you in his gifts, to fly you to spain and show you how a pretty girl should be cherished. you laughed it up, nodding to indulge him, but john always went through with his word and you found yourself in the next flight to ibiza.

it was exhilarating.

no one has ever done so much for you; no one thought you’re worth more than a 50/50 split dinner that you barely even enjoy or a quickie in a dingy parking lot because apparently a hotel was too much for a ‘casual thing.’

and sure you know you are worth more than those sucky dates, but your roster never changed and it’s like—

if they don’t like you enough, then… are you?

then john came and just. well, fuck — you know?

he’s ruined you for everyone else. he’s ruined you for anything that isn’t himself. john filled you up with fulfilled promises and went above that because he made you his sole point of focus. his priority. because somehow, you triumph over everything.

every of your whispered pleas, every quiet calls, every crooked requests — john always answered them. you are never too much for me, he said. nothing goes before you.

and who is strong enough to not fall for that? no one.

john loves vividly, and he loves you with such vastness it’s incomprehensible. john loves like this, whatever this is, was an organic sort of love; like it did not start with a messy hookup with a friend of a friend of a friend’s… dad.

(but there was something dizzying about the way your bodies clicked. how when john, apparently the mr. price, sank to his knees and flipped your skirt up, something just slotted into place.

it felt right to be there in his master’s bathroom, grasping at the hems of your skirt with shaky hands and watching on with tears in your eyes as he sucked on your clit and laid his tongue flat along your slit. it felt right to be there as he held your hips, thick fingers digging into your fat, and felt him grunting into your flesh, muffled praises slipping from his slick-sheened lips drunkenly. it felt right to beg for his fingers; to beg for more.

and god, it felt good.

so good, you were all numb in the brain, muscles shaking, satiation rolling off of you in heaps.

“shit, baby,” john murmured, cupping your jaw. “you’re so perfect.”

“mmrf?” you grunted, still nonverbal as your body caught up with the tidal waves of pleasure punched out of you.

he laughed, so soft and quiet. “yeah, you are.” he bent forward and pressed a kiss on your forehead. “might just keep you.”

he didn’t sound playful when he said this. he sounded certain, and it filled your heart up with giddiness because—

“please.”

john cooed and snuggled up beside you, pressing his bulk on your back and pulling you impossibly closer. not letting go.

not after that. not anymore.)

[ozzgin]

Yandere! Android x Reader (I)

It is the future and you have been tasked to solve a mysterious murder that could jeopardize political ties. Your assigned partner is the newest android model meant to assimilate human customs. You must keep his identity a secret and teach him the ways of earthlings, although his curiosity seems to be reaching inappropriate extents.

Yes, this is based on Asimov’s “Caves of Steel” because Daneel Olivaw was my first ever robot crush. I also wanted a protagonist that embraces technology. :)

Content: female reader, AI yandere, 50's futurism

[Part 2] | [More original works]

You follow after the little assistant robot, a rudimentary machine invested with basic dialogue and spatial navigation. It had caused quite the ruckus when first introduced. One intern - well liked despite being somewhat clumsy at his job - was sadly let go as a result. Not even the Police is safe from the threat of AI, is what they chanted outside the premises.

"The Commissioner has summoned you, (Y/N)." 

That's how it greeted you earlier, clacking its appendage against the open door in an attempt to simulate a knock. 

"Do you know why my presence is needed?" You inquire and wait for the miniature AI to scan the audio message. 

"I am not allowed to mention anything right now." It finally responds after agonizing seconds.

 It's an alright performance. You might've been more impressed by it, had you not witnessed first hand the Spacer technology that could put any modern invention here on Earth to shame. Sadly the people down here are very much against artificial intelligence. There have been multiple protests recently, like the one in front of your building, condemning the latest government suggestion regarding automation. People fear for their jobs and safety and you don't necessarily blame them for having self preservation. On the other hand, you've always been a supporter of progress. As a child you devoured any science fiction book you could get your hands on, and now, as a high ranked police detective you still manage to sneak away and scan over articles and news involving the race for a most efficient computer.

You close the door behind you and the Commissioner puts his fat cigarette out, twisting the remains into the ashtray with monotonous movements as if searching for the right words.

 "There's been a murder." Is all he settles on saying, throwing a heavy folder in your direction. A hologram or tablet might've been easier to catch, but the man, like many of his coworkers, shares a deep nostalgia for the old days. 

 You flip through the pages and eventually furrow your eyebrows. 

"This would be a disaster if it made it to the news." You mumble and look up at the older man. "Shouldn't this go to someone more experienced?" 

He twiddles with his grey mustache and glances out the fake window. 

"It's a sensitive case. The Spacers are sending their own agent to collaborate with us. What stands out to you?" 

You narrow your eyes and focus on the personnel sheet. What's there to cause such controversy? Right before giving up, departing from the page, you finally notice it: next to the Spacer officer's name, printed clearly in black ink, is a little "R." which is a commonly used abbreviation to indicate something is a robot. The chief must've noticed your startled reaction and continues, satisfied: 

"You understand, yes? They're sending an android. Supposedly it replicates a human perfectly in terms of appearance, but it does not possess enough observational data. Their request is that whoever partners up with him will also house him and let him follow along for the entirety of the mission. You're the only one here openly supporting those tin boxes. I can't possibly ask one of your higher ups, men with wives and children, to...you know...bring that thing in their house."

You're still not sure whether to be offended by the fact that your comfort seems to be of less priority compared to other officers. Regardless of the semantics, you're presently standing at the border between Earth and the Spacer colony, awaiting your case partner. A man emerges from behind a security gate. He's tall, with handsome features and an elegant walk. He approaches you and you reach for a handshake. 

"Is the android with you?" You ask, a little confused. 

"Is this your first time seeing a Spacer model?" He responds, relaxed. "I am the agent in your care. There is no one else." 

You take a moment to process the information, similar to the primitive machine back at your office. Could it be? You've always known that Spacer technology is years ahead, but this surpasses your wildest dreams. There is not a single detail hinting at his mechanical fundament. The movement is fluid, the speech is natural, the design is impenetrable. He lifts the warm hand he'd used for the handshake and gently presses a finger against your chin in an upwards motion. You find yourself involuntarily blushing. 

"Your mouth was open. I assumed you'd want it discreetly corrected." He states, factually, with a faint smile on his lips. Is he amused? Is such a feeling even possible? You try your best to regain some composure, adjusting the collar of your shirt and clearing your throat. 

"Thank you and please excuse my rudeness. I was not expecting such a flawless replica. Our assistants are...easily recognizable as AI."

"So I've been told." His smile widens and he checks his watch. You follow his gesture, still mesmerized, trying to find a single indicator that the man standing before you is indeed a machine, a synthetic product.

Nothing.

"Shall we?" He eyes the exit path and you quickly lead him outside and towards public transport. 

He patiently waits for your fingerprint scan to be complete. You almost turn around and apologize for the old, lagging device. As a senior detective, you have the privilege of living in the more spacious, secured quarters of the city. And, since you don't have a family, the apartment intended for multiple people looks more like a luxury adobe. Still, compared to the advanced way of the Spacers, this must feel like poverty to the android.

At last, the scanner beeps and the door unlocks. 

"Heh...It's a finicky model." You mumble and invite him in.

"Yes, I'm familiar with these systems." He agrees with you and steps inside, unbuttoning his coat.

"Oh, you've seen this before?"

"In history books."

You scratch your cheek and laugh awkwardly, wondering how much of his knowledge about the current life on Earth is presented as a museum exhibit when compared to Spacer society. 

"I'm going to need a coffee. I guess you don't...?" Your words trail as you await confirmation. 

"I would enjoy one as well, if it is not too much to ask. I've been told it's a social custom to 'get coffee' as a way to have small talk." The synthetic straightens his shirt and looks at you expectantly. 

"Of course. I somehow assumed you can't drink, but if you're meant to blend in with humans...it does make sense you'd have all the obvious requirements built in."

He drags a chair out and sits at the small table, legs crossed.

"Indeed. I have been constructed to have all the functions of a human, down to every detail." 

You chuckle lightly. Well, not like you can verify it firsthand. The engineers back at the Spacer colony most likely didn't prepare him for matters considered unnecessary. 

"I do mean every detail." He adds, as if reading your mind. "You are free to see for yourself."

You nearly drop the cup in your flustered state. You hurry to wipe the coffee that spilled onto the counter and glance back at the android, noticing a smirk on his face. What the hell? Are they playing a prank on you and this is actually a regular guy? Some sort of social experiment? 

"I can see they included a sense of humor." You manage to blurt out, glaring at him suspiciously. 

"I apologize if I offended you in any way. I'm still adjusting to different contexts." The android concludes, a hint of mischief remaining on his face. "Aren't rowdy jokes common in your field of work?"

"Uh huh. Spot on." You hesitantly place the hot drink before him.

Robots on Earth have always been built for the purpose of efficiency. Whether or not a computer passes the Turing Test is irrelevant as long as it performs its task in the most optimal, rational way. There have been attempts, naturally, to create something indistinguishable from a human, but utility has always taken precedence. It seems that Spacers think differently. Or perhaps they have reached their desired level of performance a long time ago, and all that was left was fiddling with aesthetics. Whatever the case is, you're struggling not to gawk in amazement at the man sitting in your kitchen, stirring his coffee with a bored expression.

"I always thought - if you don't mind my honesty - that human emotions would be something to avoid when building AI. Hard to implement, even harder to control and it doesn't bring much use."

"I can understand your concerns. However, let me reassure you, I have a strict code of ethics installed in my neural networks and thus my emotions will never lead to any destructive behavior. All safety concerns have been taken into consideration.

As for why...How familiar are you with our colony?" The android takes a sip of his coffee and nods, expressing his satisfaction. "Perhaps you might be aware, Spacers have a declining population. Automated assistants have been part of our society for a long time now. What's lacking is humans. If the issue isn't fixed, artificial humans will have to do."

You scoff.

"What, us Earth men aren't good enough to fix the birth rates? They need robots?"

You suddenly remember the recipient of your complaint and mutter an apology. 

"Well, I'm sure you'd make a fine contender. Sadly I can't speak for everyone else on Earth." The man smiles in amusement upon seeing the pale red that's now dusting your cheeks, then continues: "But the issue lies somewhere else. Spacers have left Earth a long time ago and lived in isolation until now. Once an organism has lost its immune responses to otherwise common pathogens, it cannot be reintegrated."

True. Very few Earth citizens are allowed to enter the colony, and only do so after thorough disinfection stages, proving they are disease free as to not endanger the fragile health of the Spacers living in a sterile environment. You can only imagine the disastrous outcome if the two species were to abruptly mingle. In that case, equally sterile machinery might be their only hope.

Your mind wanders to the idea. Dating a robot...How's that? You sheepishly gaze at the android and study his features. His neatly combed copper hair, the washed out blue eyes, the pale skin. Probably meant to resemble the Spacers. You shake your head.

"A-anyways, I'll go and gather all the case files I have. Then we can discuss our first steps. Do feel at home."

You rush out and head for your office. Focus, you tell yourself mildly annoyed.

While you search for the required paperwork - what a funny thing to say in this day and age - he will certainly take up on your generous offer to make himself comfortable. The redhaired man enters the living room, scanning everything with curious eyes. He stops in front of a digital frame and slides through the photos. Ah, this must be your Police Academy graduation. The year matches with the data he's received on you. Data files he might've read one too many times in his unexplained enthusiasm. This should be you and the Commissioner; Doesn't match the description of your father, and he seems too old to be a spouse or boyfriend. Additionally, the android distinctly recalls the empty 'Relationship' field.

"Old photos are always a tad embarrassing. I suppose you skipped that stage."

He jolts almost imperceptibly and faces you. You have returned with a thin stack of papers and a hologram projector.

"I've digitalized most files I received, so you don't have to shuffle a bunch of paper around." You explain.

"That is very useful, thank you." He gently retrieves the small device from your hand, but takes a moment before removing his fingers from yours. "I predict this will be a successful partnership."

You flash him a friendly smile and gesture towards the seating area.

"Let's get to work, then. Unless you want to go through more boring albums." You joke as you lower yourself onto the plush sofa. 

The synthetic human joins you at an unexpectedly close proximity. You wonder if proper distance differs among Spacers or if he has received slightly erroneous information about what makes a comfortable rapport. 

"Nothing boring about it. In fact, I'd say you and I are very similar from this point of view." He tells you, placing the projector on the table.

"Oh?"

"Your interest in technology and artificial intelligence is rather easy to infer." The man continues, pointing vaguely towards the opposing library. "Aside from the briefing I've already received about you, that is."

"And that is similar to...the interest in humans you've been programmed to have?" You interject, unsure where this conversation is meant to lead. 

"Almost."

His head turns fully towards you and you stare back into his eyes. From this distance you can finally discern the first hints of his nature: the thin disks shading the iris - possibly CCD sensors - are moving in a jagged, mechanical manner. Actively analyzing and processing the environment. 

"I wouldn't go as far as to generalize it to all humans. 

Just you."

[sttoru]

‘if there’s anyone in this world who loves being a girl dad the most, it must be your husband — gojo satoru.’

☀︎｜tags. girl dad!gojo x female reader. fluff. you’re married. reader gets called ‘mama, sweetheart’. wrote this at work so not beta read. fic one out of two for satoru’s birthday!

giggles fill the living room — familiar laughter that sounded like your daughters’. a more sultry and manly voice also resonates in the background. one that you could recognise from miles away.

your curiosity leads you to investigate the source of the joyful sounds and soon enough, you find your dear husband and daughters sitting on the couch. though, in a situation you hadn’t quite foreseen.

satoru was talking on the phone about important business whilst your little girls were giving him a rather sparkly makeover. the most heartwarming thing was satoru’s surrender to your daughters’ antics — allowing them to do whatever to his face and hair.

“mhm, yeah..” the white-haired sorcerer hums over the phone, not having the slightest idea about what ijichi was yapping about. probably something that has to do with the recent sighting of a special grade curse in the city.

but, that wasn’t satoru’s priority at the moment at all (even if it should have been). his focus was all on his two daughters that were enjoying their playtime with him.

“papa’s so pretty.” one of them comments with a big smile — a smile satoru wishes to protect until his last moment on earth. her fingers push and pull on a small strand of his hair, trying to tug it into another ponytail.

satoru had already lost count of how many messy and half-done ponytails his snowy hair got divided into. the same goes for the amount of stickers on his face and neck.

the two sisters work together to put another pink and glittery sticker on satoru’s chin — though were no match to their father’s playful attitude. he jerks his head forwards and teasingly nibbles on their tiny hands that came in touch with his face.

this causes almost ear deafening squeals to reverberate through his ears. not that he’s complaining — satoru loves to hear them.

“. . .gojo, are you listening?” ijichi’s shaky voice over the phone interrupts the squeals. satoru doesn’t even try giving a proper response and only mutters a quick ‘yeah’ between snickers. that was enough of a sign for ichiji to understand that he couldn't get through.

everyone knew how much satoru loved his little family. he cherished them and put them above everything, including his work. sometimes it was necessary for you to remind satoru that he's needed outside your home - that he was and will keep being the strongest sorcerer that people depend on.

"wow, you two really made papa super pretty!" satoru coos as his daughters bring him a hand mirror. his phone had already been discarded somewhere on the couch - not even bothering to hang up on ijichi first.

your husband effortlessly picks the children up and cuddles them close to his body, smothering them both in sloppy wet kisses on their cheeks and necks - making them giggle uncontrollably. "y'know, papa will give you both a nice little reward for making me so beautifu—”

a faint cough echoing from the mobile device next to them reminds satoru that he was still on call. he reaches out and grabs his phone, rolling his eyes in a sassy way before clearing his throat;

"i need to attend important business. see ya." the sorcerer declares and hangs up right after. to him, playing around and taking care of his daughters was more than necessary. even in comparison with an actual critical situation: it wasn't like there weren't any other special grade sorcerers that could take on the mission.

the second his phone plops back down on the couch, satoru's hands fly over to tickle his little girls' bellies. they wriggle and squirm around in his lap - squealing for help from their mama.

you had been watching the scene unfold from the doorway and decide to join in on the fun once you hear your daughters’ call. you gasp dramatically before scurrying over to the couch, acting like you were genuinely scolding your husband for his 'torturuos' tickles;

"oh no, my little girls!" you pout, taking in the way your daughters laugh and outstretch their tiny arms towards you, searching for an escape in your arms. you gladly help them away from their dad's grasp, though not without getting a whine out of satoru.

one of your daughters sticks out her tongue at the sulky sorcerer on the couch, the other mimicking her sister's actions. you chuckle and decide to do the same; frowning and sticking your tongue out.

"ack!" satoru clutches his chest, fingers curling around the material of his shirt like he just got shot. he topples over on the couch and acts dead with his eyes half closed, "i can't. . . believe. . . it. my girls hate me. ugh, my heart - can't take it."

you scoff at his exaggerated act. you were used to it after years of dating and marriage, but your daughters seemed to still take the bait. they writhe around in your arms and once you put them down on the floor again, they run back to their 'fallen' dad.

they shake him by his shoulders and harshly pat his cheeks in attempt to bring him back to life. a constant loop of 'papa!'s and 'wake up!'-s echo throughout the house. even some 'we're sworry!'-s thrown in-between.

satoru couldn't take it anymore and his arms move at the speed of light so he could pull both of his daughters in a big hug. he squeezes them a bit too tight to his chest, causing them to shriek and laugh.

"are you not joining us, sweetheart?" satoru asks with a shit-eating grin. it's then that you realise that he was blushing from pure joy — his cheeks rosy. well, you couldn't possibly deny his request when he was this ecstatic.

the high-pitched 'mama too! mama too!' coming from both girls mellowed your heart even more. and thus, you give in.

you happily join the pile - climbing on top of your husband and between your daughters which lay on each of his sides. your head rests on his chest, your eyes closed and your ears filled with laughter.

satoru eventually relaxes, however that genuine smile never leaves his lips. this is where he belongs. with his family - the most important thing of all.

[sofiatarot]

What Is Your Future Self Dying to Tell You? Pick a Card

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Group 1

Your future self is asking you to recognize where you’ve been neglecting your own growth. There’s a part of you that’s been putting others first or investing energy into situations that drain rather than nourish you. It’s time to shift your focus inward. Reflect on the ways you might be holding yourself back by ignoring your needs and desires. You have the ability to create abundance, but it starts with taking care of your foundation.

Clarity will come once you stop second-guessing yourself. You’ve been searching for answers outside of yourself, but your intuition already knows the truth. The uncertainty you feel is temporary, and they want you to trust your inner voice. Stop looking for validation in others and begin to trust your own instincts.

You might feel as though your efforts aren’t paying off, but the future-you is here to remind you that not all seeds bear fruit immediately. Some situations aren’t meant to grow, and it’s okay to let them go. Focus on what truly matters to you, rather than trying to force outcomes that aren’t aligned with your path.

There’s a message here about communication and observation. You may be learning valuable lessons by watching how others handle conflict or challenges. Your future self encourages you to approach situations with curiosity rather than judgment. Be mindful of your words, as they hold the power to heal or hurt.

Rest and reflection are crucial right now. You may have been pushing yourself too hard, and it’s affecting your ability to make clear decisions. Take a step back and allow yourself the space to recover. Your future self reassures you that rest is productive—it prepares you for the next chapter.

There’s a lesson here about letting go of the need to "win" at all costs. They want you to prioritize peace over pride. It’s time to walk away from conflicts that drain your energy. Choose your battles wisely, and don’t allow others to pull you into unnecessary drama.

Finally, this future version of you is guiding you toward balance. There’s a sense of harmony waiting for you, but it requires you to juggle your priorities with care. Celebrate the small victories along the way, and remember that true stability comes from within. Your efforts will lead you to a place of celebration and fulfillment.

Group 2

Your future self wants you to know that the delays you’re experiencing are not failures. It’s natural to feel frustrated when things don’t go as planned, but these setbacks are helping you build resilience. This is a time to focus on refining your goals rather than rushing ahead. Trust that the universe has a plan, even if it’s not immediately clear to you.

Conflict or competition may be present in your life, but your future self encourages you to see this as an opportunity for growth. Challenges can help you sharpen your skills and clarify your priorities. Stay grounded and avoid getting swept up in unnecessary arguments. Choose collaboration over conflict whenever possible.

Abundance is within your reach, and they want you to know that your hard work will pay off. There’s a sense of independence and self-sufficiency in your future, but it requires you to stay committed to your goals. Celebrate the progress you’ve made and take pride in how far you’ve come.

There’s a warning here about seeking external validation. They want to remind you that success is not about the approval of others. Focus on your own definition of fulfillment rather than trying to live up to someone else’s expectations. Stay true to yourself, even when it feels like the world is pulling you in different directions.

A new emotional beginning is on the horizon. This future-you is encouraging you to open your heart to new opportunities for love, connection, or creativity. Let go of past disappointments and make space for something beautiful to enter your life. Trust that you are worthy of the joy that’s coming your way.

You might feel a sense of lack or loss, but they want you to know that this is temporary. Sometimes, letting go is necessary to make room for something better. Don’t be afraid to walk away from what no longer serves you, even if it’s difficult. Trust that brighter days are ahead.

Your future self sees you stepping into a more confident and adventurous version of yourself. Embrace your passions, and don’t be afraid to take risks. However, remember to protect your energy and resources. Balance your drive with practicality, and you’ll find yourself creating a life that feels both exciting and secure.

Group 3

Your future self sees you standing at a crossroads, where the options seem endless but also overwhelming. You may feel unsure of what direction to take or what is truly meant for you. The key is to listen to your inner guidance and trust that clarity will come when you step away from external distractions. Avoid the temptation to overanalyze; your intuition holds the answers you seek.

You’re being reminded of the power of stillness and observation. They want you to embrace patience and allow things to unfold naturally. There’s wisdom in knowing when to act and when to simply observe. This is a time to rely on your inner strength and trust in divine timing, even if the path ahead isn’t fully illuminated yet.

There’s a sense that you may be ignoring a difficult decision or avoiding something that requires your attention. This future-you urges you to face these challenges head-on. You’re stronger than you realize, and the discomfort you feel now is only temporary. Once you take action, the weight you’re carrying will begin to lift.

Life may feel unpredictable, as if things are happening beyond your control. They want you to know that even when life seems chaotic, there’s a greater plan at work. Trust that the cycles of change are ultimately bringing you closer to where you need to be. Adaptability is your greatest strength right now.

Despite the challenges, there’s light shining through. Your future self sees you rediscovering your joy and reconnecting with the things that truly make you happy. Focus on the simple pleasures and the people who bring positivity into your life. Gratitude will guide you through any darkness you’re currently experiencing.

They want you to address the doubts or insecurities that have been holding you back. It’s time to release limiting beliefs and embrace your potential fully. Stop underestimating your ability to create the life you envision. You’re capable of achieving more than you give yourself credit for.

Finally, your future self sees you breaking free from the burdens you’ve been carrying. There’s a celebration in your future—a moment where everything clicks, and you realize the hard work has been worth it. Trust in your resilience and your ability to overcome any obstacles in your path. Transformation is inevitable, and it will bring you closer to your highest self.

Group 4

Your future self wants you to reflect on how your past may be influencing your present. There’s something you’re holding onto—perhaps an old memory, relationship, or way of thinking—that is keeping you stuck. It’s time to release what no longer serves you and make space for the new. Healing begins when you acknowledge and let go.

Heartache or disappointment may be weighing heavily on your spirit, but they assure you that this is not the end of your story. Pain often carries lessons, and from these lessons, you’ll grow stronger. Be kind to yourself as you navigate this period of emotional recovery.

You might feel like the world is working against you or that your efforts are going unnoticed. They want you to know that even setbacks are part of the bigger picture. Sometimes, things fall apart so that you can rebuild in a way that’s more aligned with your true purpose.

Stagnation may be frustrating, but this future-you encourages you to focus on the small victories rather than the bigger picture right now. Progress doesn’t always look like forward motion; sometimes, it’s about learning to be patient and trust the process. The answers will come when you stop forcing them.

A breakthrough is on its way, and your future self wants you to embrace this moment of clarity, where the truth becomes undeniable. Use this newfound insight to move forward with confidence and determination. Trust your ability to make decisions that honor your needs and values.

They see you stepping into your power. There’s a fierceness within you, a determination to rise above any challenges. You’re being called to lead with both courage and compassion. Take bold action toward your goals, and don’t let fear hold you back.

Ultimately, your future self is here to remind you that the wheel of life keeps turning. Even when things feel uncertain, change is inevitable. Trust in the cycles of growth and renewal. What may feel like an ending is actually a new beginning. You are stronger than you realize, and this is only the start of an incredible transformation.

-xoxo ✨️

[melosliving]

Can you do a fic where reader and Aaron are married and have been for years. But the public didn’t know about the reader. They thought Aaron was single. But anyways reader makes cooking videos on TikTok and is pregnant with a baby and somehow they put 2 and 2 together and realize they are married. The public is surprised that he has a wife. And now everyone is calling them a cute couple.

Thank you for your request !!! Let me cook and I hope you’ll like it ❤️❤️

aaron pierre x wife!reader

folks discovering y’all are married with a baby on the way …

You’d been craving jollof rice all week, so naturally, you decided to make it and turn the process into a TikTok. Pregnancy cravings weren’t something to play with, and your audience always loved your cooking content anyway.

The video was perfect—vibrant colors, smooth transitions, and a warm, inviting voiceover walking your viewers through each step.

“Once the tomato base has reduced,” your voice explained as the pot of rich red sauce simmered on the screen, “you’ll add the parboiled rice and mix it thoroughly so it soaks up all that flavor—”

But right as you reached the next step, a familiar voice cut in. Deep, smooth, and unmistakably British. “That’s looking good, love. You saving me a plate, yeah?”

You could hear the smile in your voice as you replied, “Aaron, I’m recording.”

“And I’m hungry, girl,” he quipped, unfazed, clearly not realizing his voice had been picked up by the mic.

“I always save a plate for you baby,” you replied softly, with a little laugh, before continuing your voiceover like nothing happened.

At the time, you didn’t think much of it. Just another normal moment with your husband. You edited the video, uploaded it, and figured the focus would stay on the jollof rice. But your followers? They had other priorities.

The comments section was on fire within minutes.

#tiktok!comments

@ user 1 WAIT. Is that Aaron Pierre???

@user 2 Not this deep British voice interrupting mid-recipe… I KNOW THAT’S HIM.

@user 3 She said Aaron like it was casual. GIRL, WE KNOW.

@user 4 Y’all… she’s pregnant, cooking jollof, and married to Aaron Pierre? I’m logging off.

People began dissecting the video like detectives. The way your tone softened when you spoke to him, the casual back-and-forth, the fact that he felt comfortable interrupting at all—it all added up. By the end of the day, his name was trending, and everyone was convinced they’d cracked the case: not only were you married to the Aaron Pierre, but you were also having his baby.

The next morning, Aaron found out before you did. He was sitting on the couch, scrolling through TikTok, grinning like a kid. “Love,” he called out, “you’ve got to see this.”

You shuffled into the room, hand on your growing belly, already suspicious of the look on his face. “What now?”

He handed you his phone, showing an edit someone had made of your video. They’d slowed it down, isolated his voice, and overlaid the words NOT AARON PIERRE INTERRUPTING HER MID-JOLLOF in bold text.

“They’re really out here doing audio forensics,” you said, shaking your head with a laugh. Aaron smirked, leaning back as you sat beside him. “To be fair, they’ve got a point. Who wouldn’t want to know who’s eating that jollof?”

You shot him a playful look. “I was trying to focus on the recipe, and here you are soft-launching yourself as my husband.”

“Soft-launching?” He laughed. “I thought we were past the soft launch when you started wearing your ring in those videos.”

You glanced at him, raising an eyebrow. “I’m blaming you for this one. You couldn’t even let me finish the voiceover before talking about plates.”

“What can I say?” He rested his hand on your belly, his voice dropping to that teasing tone. “It smelled good, and I’ve got to look out for you and baby.”

By the end of the day, the internet had pieced together everything. Fans unearthed old TikToks where Aaron’s voice could be faintly heard in the background, and someone even pulled up an interview clip of him saying, “My wife makes the best jollof rice—and she’s pregnant, so I get even more of it.”

Your comments section was relentless:

@unknown 1. Black love, jollof rice, and a baby? Y’all won.”

@user 5 Imagine carrying Aaron Pierre’s baby AND making him jollof. Sis, you’re living my dream.

@unknown 2 She’s cooking for two, and Aaron’s eating for three. I’m obsessed with this family already.

That night, as you lay curled up on the couch together, scrolling through all the reactions, Aaron leaned down and kissed your temple. “I think they’re excited for us.”

You laughed softly, resting your hand over his on your belly. “I think they’re more excited for you.”

“Nah.” He smiled, looking at you like you were the only thing in the world. “It’s us, love. It’s always us.”

@ melosliving 2025

[plumipal]

I just had a thought- how would Grim and the ramshackle ghosts feel about all the stuff happening to us?

Especially if the yandere(s) are coming over to our dorm too! Would they, depending on the severity of the yandere and their specific actions, range from supporting it cuz yknow reader gets to be happy with someone who treats them well and loves them to concerned because sweetie please get yourself outta there 😭

I can imagine Grim is NOT alright with it and for a multitude of reasons, they are taking away your time with HIM, and once he pays more attention to the bigger picture? Yeah messed up things be occasionally happening that could very well hurt you!! He does not like that!!!

im just imagining Grim being visibly not alright and reader will not have it either when it comes to him, they are a PACKAGE deal and that is that no matter which yandere comes their way 🗣️

we have many people more alright with Grim being reader’s number one priority, or yknow silently(?) wishing it was them, poor Grim and Reader man encountering yandere after yandere 😭

Grim would give us a look if we expressed any sort of romantic interest in any yandere I think lol

‘Pologies if it was too long or ranty, though I am curious who you think would be the most and least alright with this? I imagine Leona and Ace (legally required to bring up Ace he’s my all time fav next to Grim) would NOT like it lmao

.. first off, this is the longest ask ive ever gotten, I gotta just say oml thank you so much????? You, wrote all of this, fpr me?? 🥹🥹🥹💖💖💖 this literally made my week thank you so much bestie 🥹😭 second off, this inspired me to rant too, I hope you enjoy!- (not proofread btw)

So im mainly gonna focus on grim, no offence to ramshackle ghost fans, I just really like the silly little fire-cat/rat/weasel/creature. He was literally our first friend, our first companion (I bet Ace and grim bicker on who was your first).

And oh boy, guy is NOT HAPPY when he sees all these dumbasses vying for your attention and either trying to butter him up with tuna (which will not work on the mighty grim!) or ugnore him completely! Like you stated you and him are a package deal! Get the prefect and get their silly hungry companion!!

Now, grim surely uses his position as your closest companion as a safety net, they can't kill off the closest you have to family in this world! Guess they gotta live with him if they wanna have a life with you.

Ace hates that grim was your friend before him, feeling annoyed whenever he bullied (Juice) Deuce about being friends with you before him only for grim to butt in. Ace isn't too annoyed with grim though, and grim thinks that Ace is one of the better choises of the roster you have, they're both friends after all.

Of course most students in the cast don't liek "sharing" you with grim, especially the more territorial ones. Leona is probably the worst, I mean come on they're both feline looking creatures. With scent being a heavy thing for felines (yes even beastmen dont come at me) Leona is not happy to have his scent on you be muddied by the little rodent (the greatest mage of all, grim). Probably the worst choise since they're just gonna bicker to the end of the world..

Floyd doesn't like this either! Not fair that he has to share!! And with grim no less.. Floyd results in biting you instead of scenting, his chompers being good for nibbling on you. He also has the advantage that grim is sorta afraid of him (honestly who wouldn't be? Especially yan Floyd...).

Kalim tries to brime grim, with anything he could ever think off! Unlimited tuna for grim, and the best there is as well!! Nything grim could ever want on a silver platter, only if grim let's kalim marry you! That alone doesn't sound too bad, but that unsettling horrifying servant that follows Kalim around. He knows what jamil can do, and he sure does NOT want you with that dude!- guy is manipulative and creepy (he would definelty seperate you and grim!-)

Malleus... Malleus scares grim, guys is honestly horrifying. Threatening to curse him into an eternal slumber so he can whisk you away from him, he doesn't want that! You would also get sad id malleus did that, so luckily the possessive dragon had to share (for now...)

Whoever you choose, grim would probably disapprove, guy thinks of you as family (he will never admit that tho). He cares about you, and he is not okay with the invasion of privacy from these teenagers! >:(

I know you didn't ask fpr any drawing or such, but I couldn't help myself sorry 🤭 hope you like my ramblings back at you!

[cthulhus-curse]

Cherry Waves

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Gender Neutral Reader

Word Count: 10,079

Warnings: Milf!Stripper!Wanda Maximoff, Teacher!Reader, Smut, Fluff | 18+ Minors DNI

Summary: In which you meet the woman of your dreams in the most unexpected of places before a romance between the two of you blossoms.

The sight of yellow vehicles alongside bouts of snow and bleak, barely tended-to outer walls were triggers of disgust. They were constant reminders of a previous life filled with animosity, a time where the priority was survival, not living. Once as a child there was not much to cling to, ostracized and forgotten by peers who pitied faced experiences. Upon growing up, her life didn’t change for the better, but mostly the worst. 

“Drop-off is right here, mom.”

At the sound of the small voice, Wanda shook her head. Her hands loosed over her steering wheel she didn’t know she held onto with mighty fury. “Thank you, honey. I almost missed it.”

“Are you okay?” One of the twins, the eldest by only minutes – Tommy – frowned at her words. “You look really tired today. When you dropped us off at dad’s earlier yesterday I thought you’d be sleeping a lot more. You gotta take care of yourself too, mom.”

“I know, sweetheart, thank you,” Wanda beamed at his words, bags hiding beneath messy makeup from the previous night underneath her eyes. Eyeing her twins from the rearview mirror, she couldn’t help but bask in the loving, short moments the three of them had. “Now it’s time to go to class, boys. I don’t want you to be late again.”

At his mother’s words, Billy grimaced. “Oh about that…”

“Yes?” Wanda didn’t miss the hesitation, raising her eyebrows and crossing her arms upon her chest, small ounces of glitter hiding under her hoodie. “What’s wrong? Come on, you have about thirty seconds to spit it out.”

“Ourhomeroomteacherwantstotalktoyouaboutourtardiness,” Billy rambled. He didn’t wish to stay back, instead hastily opening the door of the backseat of the car before throwing himself out. “Bye, ma. Have a good day, love you!”

Albeit surprising, Wanda couldn’t help the way the ends of her mouth rose at the action. She turned to Tommy who broke out into a fit of laughter, following his brother’s steps as he slid out of the car with a patience much like his father’s. 

“He said that our homeroom teacher wanted to have a meeting with you. We’ve been late a bunch of times. I tried explaining myself, but not even the principal was having it,” Tommy shrugged. “Now I get why you don’t like Mrs. Potts.”

The reason was much deeper than that. During her adolescence it was Pepper who made it her focus to continuously pick on Wanda through high school, even up until graduation day. Although the elementary school principal found it to be water under the bridge, each time she was forced to see the woman, Wanda found herself holding onto a constant reminder of her torture. 

“I’ll take care of it, sweetie. You just go in and have a good day at school,” Wanda forced an exhausted smirk. “I’ll call later today and set up a meeting. And please make sure your brother eats his lunch, all of it. You don’t have to eat his veggies just to cover for him. Now go, honey, or else you’ll be late once again.”

Unlike his brother, Tommy took the time leaning in and wrapping his arms around his mother, even if in an awkward position. “I love you, mom. See ya later.”

“Bye, Tommy. Remember your dad’s picking you up today, it’s your weekend with him. I love you too, I’ll miss you!”

With the absence of her children for a handful of days, Wanda sighed. Weekends were by far the busiest times, especially as the holiday season loomed over. All she could do was slap her forehead against the steering wheel before dismally driving away, hoping to whatever universal power that she could get through the month in one piece. 

━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━

“Red, I need you to focus up tonight. You’ll be front and center while the new girl shadows you. Just show her how it’s done before going out and- Scarlet, are you listening to me?”

Distractions overtook Wanda as she shook her head, turning away from the lengthy mirror and towards her coworker. “Sorry, Ags. I was just…thinking.”

Agatha was the eldest at the club, only a few years older than Wanda and reeking with wiseness. She was something of the leader of the pack, forever ensuring the safety of the other girls, training new ones, and nurturing them all when required. It had been her who drew Wanda into the life of a dancer, promising to care for her and give her an easy way to get by while still present in her children’s life. 

The divorce between her and Jarvis had been amicable, and yet living by herself caused her difficulty. As a former paralegal, a career she excelled at, Wanda chose to put her children first rather than her occupation. She was young when the twins were born with nowhere to go with her family having disowned her shortly after her high school graduation when they found her making out with her former friend. Back then Audrey had blamed her for it all, and given her rebellious phase being in full-force, her parents sided with the girl before dumping off their only daughter as though she was trash. 

From then on it was Jarvis, her best friend since middle school, who had her back. Only their romance was short-lived, a mistake on Wanda's part who believed she could change much like her parents hoped, as their friendship thrived through adulthood instead. After all, they were much better as co-parents than a married couple. 

“Get your head in the game, sweets. I need my best girl tonight. You and I both know that on Saturdays you’re all the boys want to see…and girls,” Agatha gave her a knowing look. “If you get enough tips tonight, maybe you won’t have to come in tomorrow.”

“I have to work anyway,” Wanda shook her head, finishing her makeup before staring at herself through the mirror. “I haven’t bought the boys’ Chanukah gifts. I know there’s over a month to spare, but I’m barely breaking even with what I used to make years ago. Nobody wants to see me, Ags, let’s face it. I’m…old.”

“Honey, you're barely halfway through your thirties. If you’re old then I’m a fucking dinosaur,” Agatha laughed. She stood behind Wanda, hands placed over her nude shoulders that squeezed lovingly. “Plus, you got the best tits in the club. You should be proud of the fact that men pay hundreds just for you to flash them.”

“I suppose that’s nice…I think?”

Agatha wasn’t one to easily take Wanda’s insecurities lightly. “It’s the best compliment I can give you right now. I’m running on a mix of Redbull and coffee that Carol made. So I’ll either stay awake for an entire day or die trying. Now come on, this girl Kate is waiting for the master to teach her a few tricks. Time to shine, Red.”

Meeting Kate, or Lucky as she named herself, was a forever reminder of the youth that escaped Wanda. Although she was barely clothed, only stockings covering her legs alongside knee-high heeled boots and a thin see-through bikini, seeing the younger woman in much less clothes made her become fueled by humiliation. 

She showed her the ins and outs of the club, reminding the girl that her safety would forever come first. There was no doubt she’d do well – Kate was young and pleasing to the eye, everyone would fall to their knees for her as they had once done for Wanda. Now with a body carrying carved stretch marks, a painful scar across her abdomen that was a permanent reminder of the birth-gone-wrong of Billy, and rolls upon her tummy, the redhead wasn’t quite sure how to make ends meet. The day job she garnered much to Jarvis’ dismay, who offered to help pay her bills, somewhat allowed her to just get by. As if working dancing at the club wasn’t bad enough, during the days she threw on a uniform to spend lengthy shifts as a bagger at a local grocery store. 

As they walked around backstage, Kate noticed a shining golden chain across Wanda’s neck. 

“That’s a beautiful necklace,” she pointed out. 

Wanda didn’t need to look down as her hand involuntarily went to the Star of David that hung from her neck. “It was a graduation gift from my brother – the last thing he ever gave me, actually.”

“Oh? Well, where is he now?” Kate wondered with furrowed brows. 

Since the day she was kicked from her home, her parents barred Pietro from getting in contact with his twin sister. Each day she only longed to see him again, even if for a smidge of a second. Throwing a sad smile towards the new dancer, Wanda shrugged. “I wish I knew.”

━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━

The start of a new job carried numerous amounts of stress and anxieties, of hidden fears that you wished to push far down until their disappearance. You weren’t used to going out and putting in effort for anything, always living a sheltered life where anything you wanted was simply bestowed upon the palms of your hands. 

Your dream of being a teacher confused your parents. They simply couldn’t understand why rather than taking over your father’s business, or perhaps becoming part of it, you’d choose to go out of your way and put more effort into a career when you already had one set in stone. Although they disapproved at first, it was relieving how they eventually came to be proud of you for molding your own path. 

Of course no one ever told you of the stress teachers were put through on the daily, much less of the rather adventurous manners in which some decompressed after what had been a harsh semester. 

“Come on, it’ll be fun. You’ve never even been to one of these before. Trust me when I say you’ll have the time of your life.”

While you had only worked at Westview Elementary for a few months, you could easily feel yourself trusting Maria. She was a mathematics teacher with her room right across from yours, a quiet educator who during breaks made sure to bring out the life of the teacher’s lounge. It was the first person you had gotten close to at the school, that alongside the gym teacher Carol Danvers and her young assistant, Peter. 

“Are you sure?” You eyed Maria incredulously as she pushed you through the doors of the club, smiling at her coworkers who followed along. “Have you ever been to a strip club?”

“Well, not this one, but I heard only good things about it. Their star dancer is something else,” Maria responded with excitement, “I, uh, have a bit of a thing for redheads.”

Although you didn’t know it then, it was a sentiment you too shared. 

Entering the club was a rather out-of-body experience you had never lived through. Seeing the flashing lights amidst the darkness made you hiss from the sudden pain upon your eyes, but as they darted towards the main stage, they ended up widening. 

Upon the first sight of a mane of red, you couldn’t quite easily shake away the feeling of longing and desire. It was your first time seeing her and yet you knew it was her you wanted. And nothing would dare stop you from getting what you wished.

━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━

While your coworkers spent most of the night throwing loose bills on stage, Maria quite enthralled by a certain redhead which caught her eye, you remained rigid upon your seat. The once dancer that took your attention moved around the stage through her set, her outfit adorned by bills, some much larger than others, peeking through her waist of breasts that you felt guilty staring at for too long. 

Even with the self-proclaimed Black Widow dancing by her, Maria’s eyes averted to your ragged state, frowning as you didn’t tear away from your focus. Smacking your shoulder playfully, she yelled at you through the music that drowned her out. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah I was just…thinking I guess,” you shouted back, and yet never did you turn to Maria. 

She took notice of this as she followed your line of sight. When she came to find what you were taken by, the woman smirked. “That’s why we came here. Apparently she’s very popular and, well, I thought you might like her. I would offer to get you a private dance but, you know, teacher’s salary…”

“It’s okay,” you fondly responded. Before your arrival you had taken the liberty to gather some funds for the outing. You never thought you’d use them all in one night, but you’d spend whatever you needed to get her to so much as look at you. “I think I got this, thanks. Just enjoy your night. Maybe I can get you a private dance with her.”

As the night went on, it was you who blessed Maria with a privacy dance from the Widow herself. You had enough money to spare, and seeing your newly found friend carrying a goofy smile as she was dragged backstage was far too enjoyable to constitute as a waste of your earnings. While growing up, your family had forever been well-off. With all that they gave you, you could easily retire without even needing to work. 

There was hesitation on your part, but after a smidge of apprehension from a flushed Peter and a thumbs-up, he was who gave you the confidence to request a dance from the club’s most notable dancer. And as you sat in the dark, dimly-lit room with only echoes of the music booming through, all you could do was pray for it to be all you longed for. 

Never had you been one to follow your instincts in such a way. The way the woman had drawn you when you first saw her was like no other. There was no feeling you could easily shake away, you way you’d voluntarily tear your eyes from her frame as you sought out her services. Surely you’d had flings here and there, but the passion you felt upon merely seeing her was unknown, a mystery to your soul. 

As you rummaged through your own thoughts, you didn’t see the curtains of the small room be shifted as a huffing figure appeared. At least not until hands were placed upon your shoulders making you jump. “You’re far too tense, darling.” The voice drifted closer as a weight was pressed against your body. “Let me help you with that. All you have to do is sit back and enjoy the little show I got for you. I promise you’ll like it.”

Even as the slow, sultry music began, you shut it out as a means to bestow your attention upon her. Your mouth lay agape, heavy breaths being ragged out as you got a better look at the woman. Her red hair shone upon the fluorescent lights, dark lips ghosting upon your forehead as she straddled your lap. Her chest was practically bare let alone for her see-through skimpy outfit that you attempted not to stare at too hard. With hands merely hovering over her hips, you were left in awe. 

“I, uhm…” you didn’t find the right words, instead stammering out incoherent babbles as your face turned beet red. “I’ve never done this before, sorry. I’m not really sure what to do right now.”

“It’s okay, sweetheart. I can tell.” Her giggle made your racing heart catch its breath. “Just relax for me. I’ll take care of you. You’re in good hands, my dear.”

Sways hypnotized you without much effort. Melting against the faux leather couch, your arms were limp at each side of your frame. Flickering orbs were entranced by each slow movement. Scarlet, you had learned, carried herself with the utmost grace. She was a vision you mentally recorded, steady mannerisms recorded to be forever plastered upon the walls of your brain. Her alabaster skin was one that drew you in to so much as graze upon it, but the no touching rule was one you took to heart. 

The tune was made for her dance. The woman, only slightly older than you, alternated between swaying on top of you before she mounted your lap, her nearly bare breasts brushing upon your face. With each passing second your arousal only grew. Being in close proximity to the goddess Aphrodite envied was intoxicating. You had paid dearly for the private session, but the tips you’d give her would be grandiose in comparison. 

“You’re perfect,” you found yourself breathing out. Within the dusk of the room you still noticed stretch marks across her barely-clothed breasts, arms, and thighs, ones that you gawked out while drool was held back. “Just look at you. I’ve never seen anyone so beautiful.”

Wanda had never been one to have such compliments thrown her way, especially not after having her children. “Careful, sweetheart, or else you may become a favorite client of mine.” 

“Yeah? I’d like that. You have no idea how good you’re making me feel,” you groaned when Scarlet grinded upon your lap. She didn’t hesitate to grab hold of your hands before guiding them to her breasts, breaking her own personal rule only to allow you to squeeze the soft mounds. “I’m so glad I came here.”

There was a peculiar mark upon her abdomen that made you frown. A certain familiarity made you tilt your head as you absentmindedly felt your heart squirm for her. You didn’t make note of it, not daring to put her in any discomfort. Instead you did as she told you – leaning back, Scarlet was the one to take the reins for the rest of the session.

Much to your dismay, the dance ended as soon as it began. 

“That was…wow,” you were at a loss for words. As you sat up on the comfortable couch, you thanked whatever higher power allowed the small room to hide your need-stricken features. “Thank you? I’m not really sure what to say.”

“Your gratitude is appreciated,” the woman laughed, carefully stepping away from your lap with a hesitation you didn’t notice. “Most people just slap my ass and ask me if I offer other services. Which in case you were interested, I don’t.”

Hiding your dismay was difficult, and yet you took your time to fully compose yourself before reaching out. “I’m sorry you have to go through that. I can’t imagine you getting to meet the loveliest people in a place like this.” Making small talk with the dancer would be losing her money, so rather than keep her busy, you handed her the remainder of the cash you brought with you. “I’m not really sure how much to tip, but I hope that’s enough. It’s all I have left.”

Looking down at the flurry of hundreds, Wanda’s eyes widened. Normally she had nothing but animosity towards her clientele, especially those who refused to treat her as anything other than a piece of meat, but she could there was kindness in you – something most individuals in the club desperately lacked. “Are you sure? This is a lot for just one dance. With this you could probably get the other services I was talking about with a girl down the street.”

“I’m not really interested in that,” you shrugged. “Just keep it, really. I hope you have a good night, Ms. Scarlet. Oh and happy holidays!”

You left before she could respond. Nearly running through the curtains and into the main area, you were glad your face was practically unrecognizable in the club. There was a deep need within you to go back into the lounge and make a move, to do anything to ensure you could see the woman again. 

But as you saw Maria waving you down, you decided against it. At some point you wished your paths would cross again no matter what, even if it meant you returning to the club for a smidge of attention from the woman who caught your eye. 

━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━

“So you’re not coming to visit me?”

With your phone pressed against your ear, you huffed. It was almost the norm with your parents. Although loving, they were not ones to follow typical familial traditions, especially not those that surrounded the holiday season. Another year, another disappointment. 

“Your father and I are really sorry, Y/N. He has to attend a convention in France and I’ll be-”

“It’s alright, ma,” you shrugged as though she could see you. Waltzing through the packed aisles of the grocery store, you refused to let anyone take notice of your true feelings. Instead you threw a box of cereal onto the cart, shaking your head before paying attention to your mother once again. “I’ll send out you and dad’s presents next week. I’ll prepare myself for another pair of fluffy socks from him, huh?”

“You know him so well.”

The two of you amicably chatted as you made your way across the store dumping essentials onto the basket – at times adding self-indulgent treats you’d surely down while watching whatever showed up first on your television or grading finger paintings with full marks for them all. At times your parents disappeared from your life, not even showing up when you moved into the town of Westview, even missing your college graduation and hoping to make up for it by sending you a postcard from Matla with a check you didn’t require. 

Once you were done with your weekly shopping, you made your way towards the registers. Your eyes were downcast, the exhaustion from the days at the school catching up to you. Although you adored your students, at times they could be far too energetic for your liking. 

“Hey ma I-” before you finished your sentence, your eyes widened. Staring at the register you made a beeline towards, you quickly pulled back. Rather than take another position in any of the slowly growing lines you hid behind a shelf, only the top of your head and your eyes peeking through to get a better sight at the woman who stood scanning various items. “I gotta go now, ma. Something came up. Tell dad I said ‘hi’.”

Opting to not wait for a response, your mouth was left agape as you hung up. There stood the one woman who had plagued your thoughts through the past week. The unmistakable scarlet mane was one you couldn’t easily forget, much less the tender features that lacked the smoky, dark makeup she wore on the previous Saturday night. 

Gulping down a knot of surprise, you ran to the self-checkout line. You refused to allow her – Scarlet herself – to see you. As embarrassment coated your cheeks, you left the store in a rush, perhaps forgetting items on the way all for the sake of avoiding the sudden object of your affections. 

Although you felt a sudden wave of humiliation wash through you, a part of you longed to see her again.

━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━

On the day of the meeting with her sons’ teacher, Wanda opted to double her coffee intake in the morning alongside lexapro. The mere thought of being sent back to the one place she despised, her years from elementary through high school spent in constant torment, brought her back anxious thoughts she couldn’t easily shake awake. That alongside her lengthy shift at the club on the previous night would make it impossible to get through the meeting without backup. 

She made her way through the disgustingly colorful hallways she knew so well, passing the lockers she was once shoved into even at her then-young age. Rolling her eyes, Wanda only wished to get it all over with, to leave before her shift at the grocery store began — she was already far too late as it were. 

Of course she didn’t count on the familiarity of the face she saw through the small window of the classroom. Frowning, Wanda knocked lightly, all before stepping inside without daring to wait for an answer. 

“I’m sorry I’m late, I had a long shift and I-”

“You?” As soon as Wanda heard the accusatory voice, her eyebrows furrowed as she stared up at you with confusion. Only a stammer later the words were salvaged. “You…you must be Tommy and Billy’s mom, welcome!”

When Wanda gazed at you, you gazed back.

Ever since the small incident at the grocery store, you found it nearly impossible to go through another day without the image of her, of Scarlet, grinding herself on top of you. Guilty washed upon your being as you came to realize its perversion. And when you thought you were finally safe, there came another version of her. You refused to believe a parent of two of your students could be the Scarlet, so rather than assume it was her third life, you imagined her to be some sort of twin much like her sons. 

The two of you chatted amicably, your smile forced over your features as you refused to let her see any sign of awkwardness within you. She was…different from the woman, someone who you refused to compare to her. Her face lacked an ounce of makeup, hair pristinely put into a messy bun while she donned a classy, yet casual outfit that screamed that of a mother. Even then, you deemed her to be the most beautiful woman on the planet. 

“And what is it that you do, Mrs. Maximoff?” You questioned, gulping down a knot of fear.

“It’s actually just Ms. Maximoff – I’m divorced,” she corrected. “And, uhm, I work overnight sometimes.”

“Oh that must be exhausting.” Of course it was, you had seen it firsthand. Mentally slapping yourself, you longed for the floor to swallow you whole. 

You felt bad for putting her in a situation where she mercilessly fidgeted with the rings on her fingers, staring down at the floor “Yes, very. I also dance…at my job.”

“That sounds wonderful. I’m not a good dancer myself. I got two left feet,” you joked, shaking your head with amusement as you took in Wanda’s solemn expression. You couldn’t pinpoint where her reservations came from, her body tense as she stared down with cheeks tinting, their hue mirroring that of a tomato. It’s when you frowned, gave her another once over, and as your confusion grew you-

Oh.

Oh.

“I know it’s not the most usual thing, but it helps me get by. It’s not easy being a single mom, especially when my ex lives very, very far away. The boys don’t know, obviously. I just…don’t really think it’s a conversation I could ever have with them. I’m not exactly ashamed of what I do, but I get it’s hard for people to take in.”

As she sat before you, you were left speechless. 

Garnering your verbiage back had its difficulties. You jumbled through your words, the infectious anxiety making your head spin as your fear-stricken smirk flashed to her. It really was impossible to have any sense of normalcy when the dancer who had given yoh a private show sat before you.

“You look familiar,” Wanda frowned as she pointed out, and just about then you could feel and hear your fear racing. “Have we met before? Did you also go to this school?”

“Uhm no, I’ve lived in the city my whole life,” you choked out. “Maybe if we dim the lights a bit you might…”

“Oh my god.”

You never meant for her embarrassment to creep up as she looked blankly at you, and for a moment you swore there were small tears forming over her eyes. Wanda knew, she knew. Her life was easily broken up into three — her daily occupation, being a mother, and her shifts in the night that only her ex-husband knew about. Otherwise she made sure to upkep privacy for whoever long she could, never allowing her lives to spill onto one another, at least not until she met you. 

“I, uh…” Wanda was at a loss for words. She knew she could trust you, she felt it as soon as she waltzed through the door as she easily spewed on her secret life. What she never expected was for you to know already, to have been with her in a rather intimate manner that she, surprisingly, didn’t regret. “I have to-”

“Please don’t go,” you begged, and Wanda stayed. “Fuck, I know this is going to sound weird, but I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you. It was just a dance, I get it, but I felt…something.”

Wanda snickered trying to lighten the mood. “A lot of my clients feel that something, honey, but that’s not part of my job description.”

“No, no! Not that. I mean I felt a connection, which, yes, I realize might be dumb. I just haven’t been able to get you out of my head. Not in a weird, pervy way, but in a I-want-to-take-you-out-for-dinner way. And then I saw you at the grocery store and maybe I’m just romanticizing everything but-”

“You know about my other job?” For a moment Wanda imagined herself to have a stalker, but gazing into your eyes realized you’d be the first joyous threat she’d have. 

“Point is-” you didn’t let her speak again out of personal embarrassment. “I’m not going to tell anyone. I can only assume discretion is really important in your line of work, and although that thing happened, we can just forget about it. Really, Ms. Maximoff. I’m not here to make your life harder than it has to be. And we already discussed the matter with your sons so, uh, I guess you’re free to go.”

Impulsiveness had always been Wanda’s undoing, but seeing you hold her up on a pedestal and being kind to a total stranger made her heart swell. “You’re sweet, darling. Does this mean I can still get taken out for dinner?”

And as soon as she spoke the words you thanked whatever early Christmas miracle ensued to give you such a wonderful present. 

━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━

As the holidays loomed over with December coming through in full-force, you found yourself to be lucky by Wanda’s side. It was strange, even awkward at first as you accustomed yourself to being around someone slightly older, much wiser and the mother of your students at that. You had become enchanted by her body, and yet it was her mind that made you fall each second, even if far too early in what you couldn’t even deem a relationship. 

The first date you had went well. Even if you stammered through some sentences, something Wanda found endearing, her radiant smile never left her features. She had to find time from her busy schedule to go out with you, and even then it was a short-lived event before you drove her to the club before grabbing a snack at a nearby cafe. You wanted her to be safe, but even with a lack of words, only squeezing the woman’s hand tenderly, she knew what you meant. Watching her leave made your heart light itself on fire, yet you knew it wouldn’t be the last you’d see of her. 

The second one was much longer, with Wanda inviting you to grab lunch with her after her shift at the grocery store. The twins were with their father that weekend. Between the laundry and cleaning around the house, she found time for herself for the first time in years. There was an unspoken air of guilt. Wanda hadn’t been one to settle for romantic relationships even after her divorce. The most she had were meaningless one-night stands that ended with her humiliation only increasing. Sitting across you from that restaurant table made her feel a sense of warmth she hadn’t experienced in years – if ever. 

By the third date Wanda knew you’d make a permanent mark in her heart whether you chose to stay in her life or not. 

“I don’t want you to pay tonight, really,” she said, shaking her head as she grabbed onto your arm. It had been weeks since you began going on dates, getting to know each other through numerous conversations had when she picked the twins up and texts when you weren’t together. While worried constantly over her financial situation, Wanda suddenly didn’t hesitate when it came to either you or the twins. “I got it. You’ve already paid for the last two dates and I-”

“I don’t mind,” you chuckled. The two of you made your way across a nearby town. It was a small one, not too far from Westview where the streets were decorated with numerous shining lights and decorations for the holiday. You dragged Wanda to a local movie theater you found, promising that whatever she wished to watch, you’d humor. “Have I told you about my parents?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Well, they’re basically rich snobs to put it lightly. I’ve been well-off my entire life, and I am not one that loves all that expensive luxurious shit. So it makes me really happy to pay. And if it makes you smile, then it’s worth it,” you held her close, still finding it strange to embrace her in such a manner. It was rushed, you knew, and yet you couldn’t care. “Please let me pay. It also makes me feel good to know I can spoil you rotten, pretty girl.”

Wanda held the door open for you when you arrived at the theater, shaking her head with amusement stricken upon her features. “Pretty girl?”

You didn’t miss the way Wanda’s eyes lit up when she was presented with the concession stand, remaining far back with wide orbs that longed for bouts of sweet and popcorn – it had been long since she last felt such child-like joys. “Yeah. You’re a pretty girl, Wanda. Hasn’t anyone told you?”

The answer was clear upon the phantom hiding beneath her face. Rather than delve into such darkness, Wanda squeezed your hand. Fingers interlaced themselves with your own as though it was second nature. “So, tell me more about your family. Then I’ll tell you all about mine.”

From the moment the two of you bought the tickets to the laughter you held at the concession stand as Wanda waddled off happily holding her snacks, you told her all about your life. There was not much to tell, not enough moments of adversity that you knew others experienced. For a third date you knew not to throw in details that would make her run for the hills, but also give her a clear view of who the real Y/N was beneath the shroud of an elementary school educator. 

She received all the details about your upbringing – the pressure your parents forever put on you before it eventually dissuaded, the understanding nature of your peers when you came out to them, something that you noted made her flinch for a half-second. The one thing that truly caught her attention was the mention of a dog, a family pet who still resided in your parent’s place in the city. 

“I had a dog once – Sparky was his name,” Wanda mumbled as the two of you sat in the dimly lit room with nothing but a few people scattered around. “I, uh, haven’t seen him since I was…”

Even as Wanda trailed off, her words dying and falling limp upon her lips, you had a smidge of an idea of what she meant. There was not much she told you, but from the slight information she threw your way each time you saw her, you knew there was no bridge built up between her and her family that wasn’t her children. 

When the advertisements rolled by signifying the beginning of the film, your focus was on her. Wanda’s eyes flickered over the flashing lights of the movie, green orbs amazingly rising as you gawked with adoration. Squeezing Wanda’s hand, you softly ran your fingers over its back. Within the noisy dark room you could still hear your heartbeat alongside hers; it quickly became your favorite melody.

For the first time that night you shared a kiss with Wanda; and for the first time that night you realized love was something you finally earned, not given to you. 

━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━

On the last day of school you felt that for once in the last few months you could finally catch your breath. Snow trickled down the sky, freezing itself over the town that lay in a cold blanket of white. You shuddered each time you went outside, even if numerous layers covered your body – even a scarf Maria had been kind enough to knit you as an early holiday present. 

Time was spent aimlessly lounging over your couch, the central heating of your apartment turned up to the max as you defrosted beneath numerous big fluffy blankets. Between the snowfall and paralyzing low weather, you could barely find the courage to leave the safety of your own place. Bingeing whatever movies or shows came on, you came to enjoy the quiet, lonely time with yourself. At least during moments where you, much to your dismay, had to separate yourself from Wanda. 

During the nights she slept at the club you barely slept. Getting to know the woman meant slowly growing fond of her, your worry skyrocketing at the mere idea of her alone at such a place. There were guards, and Wanda promised you that the girls all looked out for one another, but you were well-aware of the dangers some of the clientele brought. Helplessly you tossed and turned each night until she sent you the one ‘got home safe’ text that allowed you to fall into a deep slumber with the knowledge you’d hear of her on the following day. 

Christmas had never been a big deal within your family. The clear rifts between you all torn by your parent’s absence were far too large to cover with a simple commercialized holiday. While their refusal to visit your newfound home stung the depths of your soul, you knew to brush it off and pretend for it to be fine. You had done it as a child, it would not be difficult to carry out in adulthood. 

Rather than throw your focus into a holiday you’d inevitably spend alone, you averted it to the newfound object of your affection. With each passing day since the beginning of Chanukkah Wanda not only feasted with her children, but received a gift from you. 

“You should come over on Christmas,” Wanda offered you once through the phone. The twins were at their dad’s place, and during the time she was lucky enough to be free from her occupation, the two of you could, even if not physically, be together. “I want you to come over for Christmas.”

“Won’t you be at Vis’ place? I mean, I know you don’t celebrate but-”

You could hear Wanda’s smile even through the phone. “I’ll be home all by myself. I want to give the boys some time alone with their dad. He deserves time with them too.” There was a pause, and for a moment the skipped beat of her heart was deafening. “I know we’ve only met a bit ago but Y/N…I would be happy if you came.”

She knew of your parents, of the pain you hid which they elicited upon you each year. Wanda didn’t dare mention it unless you gave her the greenlight, and for that you were thankful. With her, everything felt lighter — it felt right. 

When Christmas Eve came you didn’t notice the extra pep in your step. Your smile was not easily tarnished from your features, especially not with the snow piling up by the inches upon the ground. Carrying a mountain of gifts, you giddily drove down to Wanda’s place. There was a smidge of sadness within you knowing the twins would be present, but it had been her who urged you to wait. The last thing she wished was to be hurt again, and never would she put any ounce of love over that she shared for her sons. 

Kicking at the snow on the ground, you traced the path you knew to be towards Wanda’s front door. The neatly wrapped presents, courtesy of your mother’s teaching, wobbled over your anxious, freezing hands. 

“When I told you to come over I assumed you’d think to call me beforehand,” Wanda greeted you with a wide smirk, her head popping through the cracked door, a face full of makeup, while her body lay in the shadows. “Hmm but I have to say I missed you.”

“I missed you too,” you admitted. Going in for a kiss, you were disappointed for it to be only a small peck, but intrigued by the mystery of it all. “Is this a bad time?”

“Uhm a bit. I just have to rush to get ready, honey. I thought I had more time for it,” the sultry voice Wanda solely reserved for the club was in full blast, and for once you could happily listen to it without the backdrop of music. “You can come in, but I need you to close your eyes. I’ll let you know once I’m done, alright?”

“Anything you say.”

You’d agree to whatever she wished if it meant leaving the porch where your coat, pants, and boots were battered by the snow that grew into a violent hail. Once your eyes were closed, you were dragged by Wanda’s strong arms who left you waiting at the door atop the doormat. You couldn’t help the amusement that came out while you attempted to clean your boots without watching, all while you could hear the distinct sound of high heels clacking against the hardwood floor as Wanda seemingly ran away. 

Patience had never been your forte, much less when you were fully aware of the secrecy Wanda was far too bad at hiding. From what you knew was her bedroom came a soft tune, and the urge to take a small peek only skyrocketed. You opened your eyes slightly, familiarizing yourself with the house you frequented when the boys were away, but as soon as you heard the woman rushing back towards you, you shut them.

“Keep them closed, baby,” Wanda’s voice was hypotonic. Even if you humored the idea of disagreeing, she wouldn’t allow you to. “Let’s leave these here and you come with me. Promise you won’t peek?”

As she took the load of presents from your arms and placed them by where her chanukiah lay, you nodded. “I pinky promise, Wanda. Now tell me what’s up. You know I’m terrible with surprises.”

Surely that was true, but as soon as you were thrown into her bedroom, your heart raced. Wanda let you sit atop a chair in the middle of the room, the lights dimmed out as you could tell through your eyelids. Breathing in an unmistakable scent of lavender, your nostrils were in heaven. The beat you previously heard came back, only in full blast and keeping you grounded in place.

Hovering before your sitting body, hands atop your own that gripped the armrests, Wanda’s lips ghosted along your face. “You can open them now.”

Before you were struck by lightning you were able to take a peek at the state of near-nudity Wanda was in. You knew her ‘outfit’ to be similar to those she wore in the club, only in your favored color which you knew full-well she had only recently bought. Her heels made her much taller, full breasts in perfect view before she swooped in like a hawk and claimed what was hers.

Kissing Wanda was intoxicating on its own, but when she kissed you, your brain short-circuited and awaited hours until a proper reboot. She took charge, a confidence she usually lacked soaring through her body as she cupped your flushed face with her hands. Fingers brushed against your burning cheeks, bloodshot nails leaving tiny marks you’d proudly carry. 

Lipstick was smeared over her face, and yet you kept kissing as though your life was dependent on it. Her tongue swirled in your mouth easily, but as you came to your senses, your own fought for dominance. Hips were gripped, a small moan drawn out from the depths of her throat that awakened the animalistic being inside of you 

“I thought I should give you an early Christmas present. You’ve done so much for me in these past few weeks,” Wanda hummed as her tongue swirled over your wet lips. “Let me help you now. Sit back and relax, sweetie. Scarlet’s going to make you feel so good.” 

Seeing Wanda dance for others or even having her dance for you at the club was nothing compared to her doing so in the privacy of her bedroom — only a few scented candles shedding enough light on her voluptuous body. She swayed on top of your body, her ass grazing your lap before she grinded herself upon it. Hands lit by flames were everywhere. You couldn’t think, much less formulate proper verbiage to describe your ever-growing arousal. 

The no touching rule was one you respected, but all bets were off as Wanda placed your hands on her hips and nodded your way. It was exaggerated for your own entertainment, but each time you groped or knedded any area of her body, she let out a breathy groan. Her backside was fondled, pulling her towards you only to capture her lips with a more forceful manner. You had yet to see her in a full nude glory, and yet the knowing stench of arousal drove you mad. You wanted, no, needed to have Wanda. 

“You’re so fucking hot,” you couldn’t help but mumble. “Look at yourself, Wanda. I’ve never seen anything so perfect.” Grabbing both of her breasts at once, you squeezed tenderly until her nipples hardened and poked through the fabric of her loose bikini top. “I need you so bad right now. I need to…I have you, to show you just how beautiful you are.”

Running your hand over her stomach, admiring the adorable rolls upon it, you made her blush for once. “Behave, honey. You wouldn’t want me to regret letting you touch, huh? Be a good pet for me and do as I say.”

You tried, you really did, but there was no chance of success as you watched and felt her dance over you. Aphrodite’s jealousy over Wanda was rampant. The woman gave it her all. She climbed on your lap, holding your shoulders for balance, with a smirk across her features and her breasts keeping your face hostage between them.

With each minute that passed your need for her grew. She gave you a treat at least, allowing you to be the one to untangle the knot of her top with guided hands before it inevitably fell to its demise. When you came to see the beauty beneath the fabric, you nearly saw the light then and there. 

Wanda unknowingly drove you to the brink of insanity as her nude breasts brushed against your body. Her hands did quiet work to remove your own clothes until you were left in nothing but your shirt and underwear. Kneeling before you, she placed kisses over your inner thighs, face nuzzling upon your skin as you licked your lips. 

“I’m ready,” she told you. There was no need for further explanation. Instead you drew a hand down and tenderly pet her, Wanda leaning in to the touch in peace. “I need you now, Y/N. Won’t you be a good pet and-”

She didn’t finish her sentence as you grabbed a fistful of red hair and tugged her away gently. Throwing her over the bed, you didn’t miss the amused laughter that came from her as you removed the last few articles of clothing from your body.

As you climbed atop Wanda, she stared at you incredulously. “And what do you think you’re doing, sweetheart? Hmm where is this confidence coming from? Not that I’m complaining…”

“I’m returning the favor,” you breathed out raggedly. “You lay back now and relax. Let me make you feel good, baby.” 

When you took off the remainder of her skimpy outfit, your mouth went dry as though the Sahara Desert resided within it. Exhilaration shot through your being as you stared down at Wanda’s shaved sex that she attempted to hide between hugged milky full thighs adored by stretch marks. 

Hands traveled all over her skin, your eyes closing as you trailed your way across the map you’d forever remember in your mind. With each lingering touch her hips, with a mind of their own, gyrated. You could barely slide your fingers past the valley between her breasts without her crying out in pleasure. You were quickly obsessed with the responsiveness of her body. Tugging, squeezing, and groping her breasts drew the deepest moans, you found.

With your mouth dropping kisses over her chest, ensuring that you focused primarily on her taut breasts and hardened rosy buds, your hands went to wander off. One kept her hips steady, digits finding her stretch marks that you traced with their tips, all while your dominant hand moved towards the puffy, flushed area that glistened beneath the hold of her thighs. 

“Let me touch you, Wanda,” you urged her, your voice husky and deep as though you swallowed a shot of her essence. Kissing your way up to her jawline, you let your tongue explore its way until her lips were swirled against. With her plup, wet mouth ready to be devoured, you towered the woman with all your might. “And you know we can stop whenever you want to. Just say the words, alright? I want to make you feel good — feel comfortable. You tell me what you want me to do, and I promise I’ll do it.”

While it took a few seconds to build confidence, Wanda nodded in awe of your own. “I want you inside me. I want to feel you…I need to feel you. I’ve been thinking about this ever since we saw each other, since I gave you the dance. I wondered what it would be like for you to fuck me. It’s embarrassing, but I have to admit the thought has helped me through some lonely moments when it’s just me in this dark room alone.”

At the implication you giggled. “Way to rub my ego.”

“You’re welcome,” she pecked your lips, foreheads mixed together as your fingers began descending over her glistening cunt. “I hope I didn’t interrupt you. I was looking forward to having you inside me.” With newfound conviction, Wanda tilted her head. “Don’t you want to fuck me, baby? Or would you rather I tell you about the countless times I’ve touched myself at the thought of you?” 

That was enough to get you to absentmindedly begin rubbing Wanda’s cunt. Her bulbous clit was tender to the touch, but more so when it came to the arousal it elicited from the woman. The foreplay was not enough, even if with each flick her back arched and her pussy rubbed against the palm of your hand. Looking down at her gaping hole that oozed her juices, you knew it was the only way to sate your hunger. 

You got Wanda aroused enough that her juices dripped onto the sheets. Your mouth continuously left multiple love bites on her skin that you knew she’d wear proudly in the privacy of her home, but was required to hide at work. Her legs were parted far enough to shyly wrap themselves around your waist and pull you closer; with a lack of words Wanda begged for more. 

“Relax,” you said. “Everything’s gonna be okay, baby. I'll take good care of you.”

Forever maintaining your promises, you did as Wanda wished. When you first slid a pair of fingers within the confines of her velvety walls, you let out a loud grunt that matched your lover’s. She was tight, her cunt adapting to the adoring feeling of you stretching it out for your own amusement. From her ragged state you knew she wouldn’t last long, but you’d be sure to make the best of it for the sake of leaving a good impression. 

“Oh fuck you’re so tight,” you spit out. “Baby you’re so warm. Your pussy is practically swallowing my fingers whole. Such a hungry little thing…”

“Y/N,” Wanda whined, brain hazy with far too much lust stricken over it. “More.”

“I’ll give you what you want.” You planted a kiss on her blushing cheek. “I’ll give you more, my pretty girl.”

Once she felt ready enough to take you, Wanda rolled her hips. It was a sign to let you keep going, to begin sliding yourself in and out, watching in awe as your hand dripped with her essence that coated your soul. You thumbed at her clit, stimulating it gingerly until you saw Wanda visibly relax. 

Being inside Wanda was unlike anything you had experienced before. It was soft and sweet, wet and warm, but more so night and day — the time you could spend absolutely worshiping her until exhaustion inevitably took over. Moving within her was difficult as all you yearned to do was remain deep in place as you fell to your slumber atop Wanda; the two of you forever connected as one. 

With a steady pace you set, you’d surely bring her over the edge in moments. Your teeth sunk into her supple breasts with love, marking them as though they were yours to own. Her moans against your ear drove your ambition forth. They were the push you needed to curl your fingers deep in her cunt until their tips hit her sweetest spot — with the howl Wanda let out, you were sure her neighbors would show up at the door to complain in minutes. 

“‘M close,” she sobbed, tears of desire pooling at her eyes as she lazily began grinding herself down on your hand. “I’m gonna cum, I-”

With a searing kiss you shut her loud noises of desire down. Her walls clamped down around you, squeezing you tight as the knot in her abdomen loosed. A lengthy, powerful orgasm shattered itself through Wanda, leaving her breathless and without a sane mind to properly register the gift you bestowed upon her. 

You were breathless messes clinging to one another for dear life. Wanda came undone, her clammy cheeks brushing your own as in her state of haziness she repeated mutters of your name. Her lips planted sloppy kisses on your, thanking you for the love you gave her – a happiness she lacked since her adolescence. 

“That was amazing,” you spoke in her honor. “Did that feel good, baby? Are you okay?”

“I wanna go again,” she slurred – and for Wanda’s sake you’d do whatever she wished. “Please?”

Her pleas are what drove you further. You nipped your way down her body, her tummy rolls worshiped as they came from a true goddess you adored. Wanda’s insecurities from her slowly aging body were rampant, but you would never dare see her with anything but desire. To her she lacked the beauty of a younger woman, but to you she was the only one you could ever have eyes for. 

At the first taste of her pussy you became addicted. Your fingers remained knuckle-deep within her, her walls warming them as you began timidly lapping at the wetness before you. The sweet nectar was one you’d grow you obsess over. She was delicious, your tongue just needing to burn against her sex rapidly as you sought out more. 

“Oh my god!” She squealed. “That’s it baby, just like that. Your tongue feels so good- so fucking good!”

The words of affirmation turned your movements into vigorous ones. The tip of your tongue swirled over her clit before you took it between your lips. Lightly suckling the bundle of nerves made her upcoming orgasm intensify, Wanda’s hands gripping the bed sheets as she pounded her fists over them with a need for release. 

Simultaneously you pumped your fingers in and out of her gaping hole with your tongue running across her flushed slit. The rhythmic grinding against your face did wonders to increase her arousal. It shot up to the sky when you so much as pressed at bulbous clit before allowing your teeth to delicately brush at her cunt. 

“Cum for me,” you let out the muffled command with a mouthful of pussy. “Be a good girl and do as I say. Come on, Wanda. I know my sweet girl can do it.” Rubbing your thumb over her swollen clit, you nodded her way. “I got you, princess. All you have to do is let go.”

In your hold Wanda came once again, only this time her exhaustion took over as soon as the orgasmic wave grabbed a hold of her. She tossed and turned, screaming until the euphoria settled into normalcy. Hands shivered as her skin was set aflame. For moments you resided in your given place until she relaxed, and once you knew your lover to be blissed out, you gingerly removed your fingers – much to your dismay leaving her cunt gaping and searching for the fulfillment you handed out. 

“You did such a good job. I’m so proud of you, Wanda,” you told her as you kissed your way up her body. Reaching her face meant lovingly nuzzling your forehead against her own, your lips coated with her juices that she tasted when begging for a chaste embrace. “Thank you for letting me do this, for trusting me with your body. You’re fucking amazing.”

“You’re even better, honey,” she murmured. Wrapping her arms around you, Wanda pulled you down until your head fell on the pillow you’d soon share. “I have something to ask you, but can you promise beforehand that you won’t freak out? It’s okay if you say now, I just…”

Wanda trailed off, making you frown in confusion as you interlaced your nude body with her own. “What’s wrong?”

“I want to be your girlfriend,” the redhead blurted out before stopping herself. Soon after the words spewed from her mouth, she averted her eyes, the blush in her cheeks intensifying by embarrassment. “If that’s okay, I mean.” She sighed, shaking her head at what she deemed a bout of stupidity. “We’re from very different worlds, you know that, but we still have so much in common. We’ve only known each other for a few weeks and look at us now. Here we are spending Christmas Eve together, you got the boys and me some presents for Chanukah and you’re…you’re amazing. I don’t know how else to describe you. I can’t stop thinking about you, Y/N, and part of me really hopes the feeling is mutual.”

“It’s incredibly mutual,” you replied, shifting down to kiss her neck right above her pulse point. “I want you to be my girlfriend. I know it’s dumb, but god I want to show you off so bad. Of all the people in the world you chose me. You, Wanda Maximoff, chose me. Now that really rubs my ego.”

With raised eyebrows Wanda shot you an amused look. “Wouldn’t you want me to rub something else?”

The two of you shared a mirror bout of laughter, clinging to each other with adoration. “We can work on your dirty talk if you’d like, but right now I’d rather take a hot shower with you. It’s almost time to light up the next candle. If it’s okay, could I help you with it? I know I’m a goy, but I want to celebrate this with you. Maybe I can watch?”

At the usage of the traditional term, Wanda beamed. “It’s best if you watch, sweetheart, but if you want to help out, I still haven’t wrapped the presents for the last two days so…”

“I’m on it!” You sat up straight, turning to Wanda and reaching out for her hand. “Now come on. I swear I’ll turn into a goddamn icicle if I don’t have a hot shower now.”

The final days of the holiday season you spent glued to Wanda’s side, and even as the beginning stages of your relationship passed through, you remained devoted to her even more than when you first saw who would become the true love of your life.

[tojisrealwifey]

Crybaby — f. toji (pt. 4)

ˋ°•*⁀➷ Synopsis: When you realize your husband might still be hung up on his ex-wife.

・❥・requests : rules

・❥・characters: fushiguro toji.

warnings: mdni, 18+, themes of divorce, brief smut, angst but kinda fluff, slight comfort, sad gumi, toji's ex-wife's name is rei.

・❥・wc: 2.7k

・❥・masterlist

・❥・crybaby masterlist

"I know, sweetheart. I'm sorry."

Megumi sat slumped in the living room, his mind in turmoil as he tried to process his parents' impending divorce. Toji approached him with furrowed brows, a mix of concern and frustration etched on his face.

In a swift motion, he slapped the back of Megumi's head, gently but firmly.

"Why'd you do that brat?" Toji asks in a scolding tone, his fingers rubbing his forehead to show visually how fed-up he is.

"What?" Megumi snaps, rubbing the back of his head, he turns in his seat to reveal his red and slightly swollen eyes to his father.

Toji takes a look at him and sighs, feeling regretful for taking a harsh approach.

"I know you're mad, but you shouldn't talk to your mother about the divorce that way. She's also hurting." 

Toji had returned home and overheard your conversation with Megumi. He waited for you to leave the kitchen and observed as you headed to their bedroom, likely to freshen up in the bathroom. 

Knowing that you would take a moment, Toji took the opportunity to approach his son for a talk.

"I was being honest." Megumi retorts but fails to conceal his guilt, likely feeling ashamed of how he addressed the issue.

"Megumi, it's not your mom's fault. I messed up years ago, and that's why she's acting this way. I made her feel like a stranger in her own home, and I can't undo that pain.

Megumi sat in silence as his father spoke, his gaze fixed on a distant point, but his attention fully focused on his father's words.

"Whatever went down between us, it's not something you need to worry about. But just so you know, even if your mom and I split up, we'll always be there for you."

Megumi's lips downturned as a gesture of doubt, the air heavy with uncertainty.

"How can you be so sure?"

"Because she's your mother. The world can end but that fact will never change."

Megumi's eyes gloss over, prompting him to shut them close.

"Your Ma and I can't stay together because it's just breaking her heart more. "

"So you think she deserves better?"

"Yes." Toji answers without a moment of hesitation. Megumi looks taken aback by his quick response but isn't all too surprised.

"...But...what if she actually meets someone and starts a new family? Why would she bother with us after that?"

"Brat, do you really think your Ma would forget you once she meets someone else?"

Megumi falls into a contemplative silence, his thoughts carrying him away for a few fleeting seconds.

You wouldn't do that, he was sure of it. But he had also believed that his parents would never grow apart.

"I know your mom better than anyone else, and I know that you're her top priority, even more than me." There was not a hint of dishonesty in Toji's words.

As Toji gazes up, he notices your arrival in the room. Your eyelashes were still wet, whether from washing your face or crying, he didn't know.

Megumi takes the opportunity to offer you an apology.

"...Sorry Ma, I'm being so selfish. It's just, everything is gonna change now."

You and Toji stared at each other for a moment before you shifted your focus to Megumi. As you walked towards him, you wrapped your arms around his head while he pressed his face against your stomach, silently sobbing into your dress.

"You're allowed to be selfish, Megumi. You're our son." Your voice is so soft that Megumi couldn't help but hug you tighter.

The conversation ended in a heavy silence, with each of them grappling with the weight of their emotions and the changes in their family dynamic.

You and Toji made sure not to let it affect the atmosphere. The two of you cooked lunch as Megumi stood near the kitchen counter, lending a hand every now and then.

The three of you chatted, mostly about Megumi's college journey and eagerly anticipating his upcoming 18th birthday in less than half a year.

He enjoyed the atmosphere, letting the sadness be pushed to the back of his mind. He savored every single bite of the lunch that afternoon.

It was dark outside as your husband and son wordlessly prepared for bed. After the confrontation less than a week ago, you and Toji hadn't been sleeping in the same room. He opted to stay in Megumi's room for the time being.

But with him back, Toji was forced to move back into your shared bedroom. You had just finished brushing your hair and braiding it, as you do every night. Toji walks in wearing his sweatpants, bare on top.

"You don't mind, do you?" He asks you, walking over to his side of the bed. 

There was another pang in your heart, knowing your actions led to this. Your own husband was asking if he could sleep in his own bed. Your husband, who rarely gave a fuck about anyone telling him what to do, was asking for your permission.

"I think we're way past that phase, Toji." You joke, trying to lighten the heavy air. But no laughs follow, so you just nod in acceptance. 

"You don't have to ask, Toji." Taking the brush off your lap, you place it on your nightstand. 

Fuck, he missed you.

The two of you were living under the same roof, yet he missed you. He wanted to pull you in and place a kiss on your forehead like he did every night, but he held himself back another day.

"I'm just gonna go check on Megumi. Do you need anything?" You ask as you get off the bed.

'Yeah, you.'

Toji almost says the words on his mind, but refrains, shaking his head instead. Walking out of the room, your steps slowly lead you to your son's room. Knocking a few times, you wait for an indication to go in.

When Megumi verbalizes his permission, you open the door, watching him fluffing his pillow a few times. Just like his father, he too only wore a pair of sweatpants, choosing to go bare from the waist up. 

"What is it?" Megumi asked, confused as he took a seat on his bed. You shake your head at his direct tone, sighing once.

"Can't I check on my own son?" You ask, hands in fists as your knuckles pressed against your hips.

"You can, it's just I'm really tired." Megumi says, getting under the blanket and pulling the fabric up to his chest. His arms folded under his head, acting as a pillow while he closed his eyes.

You 'aww' at his tired face, walking up to him and sitting down beside his outstretched figure. You place a hand against his forehead, stroking it up towards his hair.

"I know, honey. Your alarms are all off, right?" You ask, your fingers running through his hair comfortingly. Softly massaging his head, you felt him relax under your touch.

"Y-yeah..." He answered, but his hesitation was clear to you, making you question him.

"Hm? What's wrong?"

He falls silent momentarily, before turning to his side, still facing you. His eyes remained closed as he spoke.

"Could you...stay here for a while?" He asks timidly, pushing his head into the pillow. You chuckle at his sudden shyness, giving a noise of approval.

Shifting yourself, you get under the blanket as well, lying down and embracing him with no hesitation. 

He softly fights against your tight hold, but you don't falter, instead attacking his face with small kisses.

"I missed you so much, baby 'Gumi." You cooed, pushing his head into your chest, pampering him with kisses.

Megumi stops fighting back, admitting defeat as he eases into your hold. Although he felt like a child again, he didn't complain anymore, easily lulled to sleep due to your warmth.

You pat his head just like you used to when he was 11 and had trouble falling asleep. Unconsciously you start to admire his features, noting what a beautiful boy he had grown to become.

He was handsome just like his father, although his face was a lot more delicate as compared to Toji. You had no doubt he took after Rei in that aspect.

You sigh, closing your eyes as you think about this irritable situation.

Was Rei watching over Megumi, even in her death? You were sure she was. This felt so unfair, yet so inevitable.

Your mind could no longer distinguish between what was right or wrong, who to blame or forgive.

'I'm sorry, Miss Rei.' You whispered in your thoughts, a heavy weight settling in your chest. 

'I know you wished to be here, to raise your son.' Your head swam with unspoken apologies to the late woman, regrets you could never voice aloud despite never meeting her.

"You're probably cursing me for hurting your son like this. Especially after Toji trusted me too," Guilt seeps into every corner of your heart.

You held Megumi tighter, feeling his form against yours. Your eyes closed, shutting out the world as you sought refuge in sleep, a brief escape from the pain.

'I won't let Megumi feel like this again.' You vowed silently. 

"Nor will I ever blame Toji for something he has no control over. That's my promise to you, Miss Rei. So please, rest easy."

Tears slipped down your cheeks, unseen in the darkness, as you clung to Megumi, hoping your love could somehow fill the void left by his mother's absence.

"Toji...~"

Toji starts to stir, warm breath wafting against his cheek. He doesn't startle awake, but when he does open his eyes, your silhouette greets him.

It was dark, yet he could make out your features. Toji moves his arms almost on instinct, placing his hands on your waist, only to be met with your bare skin.

Toji, coming to his senses now, could feel your nakedness against him, breasts pressing against his chest, legs on either side of him as you lay on top of him.

He lets out a hiss, finally becoming aware of his sensitive cock that touched your folds. You let out another quiet moan against his cheek, placing a wet kiss to wake him up.

"Fuckkk [name]...It's so fuckin' early Ma." His hand smooths over your lower back, urging you to push your cunt down on him.

"Hahhh~ missed you, Toji. Mhmmm~ m-missed this..." You placed kisses against his jaw making him shiver. The coldness of the room finally hit him, realizing his sweatpants had been removed, as opposed to just taking his cock out like he had originally thought.

You slide back slightly, the tip of his cock prodding at your entrance. You sit up, ass meeting his lap as you sink down on his length.

"Ohhhh~"

"Shiiiit~ You're so warm, babe." Maintaining your movements, your hips grind against his occasionally. Your thighs were already aching from lifting yourself and settling down.

Up. Down. Up. Down. Up. Down.

Keeping up this pattern, knowing when to clench, fingers toying with Toji's chest, playfully pinching his nipples, his fingers in your mouth, biting down to contain your moans, pussy snug around him, taking him raw in the middle of the night.

Fuck.

You were perfect.

The jiggle of your breasts, flushed face visible in the moonlight, drool spilling from your mouth and down his arm, his other hand gracing your waist with its warmth, your slick forming a ring around his cock.

It was perfect.

But not real.

Toji didn't jolt awake, but his hand came to hit hard against his head in frustration. Wiping his face to get rid of the accumulated sweat, he sighs in defeat.

Eyes still closed, he uses the same hand to feel the area beside him. Opening his eyes, he noticed your side of the bed still empty.

You didn't return?

He checks the small digital clock on his nightstand, eyes glancing over the blaring white numbers.

2:14 AM

He sighs. He caught himself early tonight.

This was the fourth time this week he had woken up after a wet dream about you. This started the day he walked away from you that night and camped out on the couch. 

It wasn't like he had never had a wet dream that consisted of you, but it was never consecutive, and...you were always there to take care of him.

After the confrontation that night, he fell asleep in distress, thoughts revolving around you and only you. He wasn't surprised to have a dream like that.

That was night one.

After having to clean himself up in his son's bathroom (since you were there in their shared room) he decided to just sleep in Megumi's bed, considering it was better for his back. He wasn't getting any younger

On night two, he had the same dream of you riding him, and although he woke up immediately, it was too late as his sweats were already soiled.

They say the third time's the charm, right?

Wrong.

After dreaming of taking you in their car, he climaxed instantly and almost punched himself after he woke up.

However, by today, the fourth night, he had become aware of his consciousness, forcing himself awake.

Turning on the lamp, he spares one look at his sweatpants, just in case, before going on the quest to locate you.

One leg follows the other in getting out of bed, his feet making a subtle 'thud' against the floor with every step. The soft sound was loud in the quiet night, but he continued, making his way to the only place you could be. Megumi's room.

He turns on the hallway lights and notices the door to Megumi's room slightly ajar. He softly pushes the door open wider, the yellow lights of the hallway flooding into the room in the form of a beam.

The beam of light was directly painted over his wife and son's sleeping figures. Your and Megumi's breaths were synchronized, snoring simultaneously. 

The two of you were clinging to each other, and Toji almost had the urge to chuckle at his son's actions, arms wrapped around your waist tightly.

If Megumi knew of this, he would likely dig a hole and climb in, hoping to vanish from existence. 

Something like this was so unlike Megumi, and this is what made Toji realize how his careless words were probably going to ruin this.

Because of bringing up a divorce, his son might never feel the love of his mother again. And nor will Toji.

"I'm sorry, Megumi. But there are complexities... things you're not aware of." "Tell me! Maybe I can help!" "No. It's something only I can fix. But, my heart just isn't ready for it."

No. It wasn't something only you could fix.

He made a mistake. That much was obvious to him, but he underestimated just how many people this could affect, where initially his intention was to be the only one hurt by this.

Instead of walking away, he should have comforted you properly. 

Instead of giving you 'freedom' in the name of divorce, he should have assured you.

Instead of wanting you to find someone better, he should have been the one to better himself.

Rei. He missed her. He loved her. Rei was a part of his life that could never be changed. She showered him with love, gave him a son, and showed him light in the sad dark he thought he could never escape. 

But she was gone, leaving Megumi in her place to keep him out of the darkness that threatened to drown him every waking second. 

So, He held on. For Megumi. He held on when he was shamed by his family. He held on when his family threatened to take Megumi away. He held on when he was on the brink of living on the streets. He held on to provide for his son. 

He held on when he didn't understand how school admissions worked. He held on during parent-teacher conferences where he had no idea how to respond. 

He held on when his son's friends were over and he had no idea how to host. He held on when he was around other parents, him being the only single parent. He held on as he saw couples walking happily with their children when he stood alone with Megumi, missing Rei's presence.

He held on. Until he found you. Because you were there to take him in your arms and hold him close, making sure he never fell back again.

And now he failed you.

Rei was a memory that he would never forget, even in his death. He was sure that memories of her would flash before his eyes as he would lay on his deathbed.

But you...

You would be there to hold his hand, letting him know that he died being loved.

He has to show you what you truly mean, but he doesn't know how.

If only his grunt nature allowed him to speak his heart. Well, he'll work hard to prove his love in any other means necessary.

Smiling softly, he steps back and closes the door to its entirety.

taglist: @lunesmai @montyrokz @boyimjustaloserforyourlove @sad-darksoul @qoumaina @4y3sh4 @mellohatesyou @abisangelss @blankwashed @m0rganit3 @c4rm1son @eichhiinem @ghostfacefricker6969 @quinnyundertow @orange-stars @lillycore @whosmarjj @keanureevessmile @esposadomd @latorsgatorz @tananaxx @cauqhtz @r0ckst4rjk @creative1writings @numblytemporary @swirlingcurses @lostinneocity @sleppyann @eneiyri @ebiharachan

a/n: how tf do you do the gradient text on here?! i'm crying in html someone please helpppp!!!!

[its-avalon-08]

I don't know if you're taking requests, but can you do something where the reader and Lando broke up after they had a stupid fight about where readerfeels they haven't spent any time together so lando tells her to leave in a fit of rage. (One Lando regrets and is very sad. Sad boy.) And a few weeks later reader gets into a accident and the hospital calls him because he's next of kin when they were dating and when he gets there he's freaked and the doctors surprises him by saying the baby's fine, but reader tells lando that he has to be there for them both thats why she didn't tell him because she didn't want her baby to feel second best. Happy ending, though, please. I'm sorry if that's long.

never enough (ln4)

✦ pairing - lando norris x female!reader

✦ genre - angst, tears, comfort, break up

The tension in the room was suffocating, every word between them cutting deeper than the last. Y/N stood near the dining table, her arms crossed, her face a mixture of frustration and heartbreak. Lando sat on the couch, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees, running his hands through his hair.

“You don’t even try anymore, Lando!” Y/N’s voice cracked as she spoke, but her words were sharp. “I can’t remember the last time you actually looked at me like I mattered to you. Do you even care?”

His head snapped up, his eyes blazing. “Don’t you dare say that, Y/N. Don’t you dare act like I don’t care. I’m doing my best here!”

“Your best?” she scoffed, her tone bitter. “Your best is spending every waking moment either at the track, with the team, or in your own world. You’re never here. Not really.”

Lando stood abruptly, the movement startling. “I’m sorry that I have a career that demands everything from me! What do you want me to do? Quit? Give it all up just to sit here and hold your hand?”

“That’s not what I’m asking for, and you know it!” Y/N fired back, her voice trembling with barely contained anger. “I’m asking for you to make time for me. For us. But I’m always the one waiting, always the one begging for scraps of your attention. I can’t keep doing this, Lando. I feel like I’m not even a priority anymore!”

His fists clenched at his sides, his voice rising as frustration overtook him. “And I feel like no matter what I do, it’s never enough for you! I’m stretched thin, Y/N! I don’t know what else you want from me!”

“I want you to act like you actually love me!” she shouted, tears now streaming down her face. “Like I’m more than just someone waiting for you at home!”

“Fine!” he yelled, his voice thunderous in the quiet room. “If I’m so terrible—if being with me is such a burden—then maybe you should just leave!”

The words hung in the air like a death sentence, and Y/N froze, staring at him as if he had just struck her. “What?” she whispered, her voice barely audible.

“Leave,” Lando said again, though his voice was quieter now, the anger giving way to something more hollow. “If this isn’t enough for you, then just...go.”

Her breath hitched, the weight of his words crashing down on her. She shook her head, her voice trembling. “You don’t mean that.”

“Maybe I do,” he muttered, though his eyes betrayed the regret already forming in his chest.

Y/N’s hands trembled as she grabbed her bag from the chair, slinging it over her shoulder. “You’ll regret this,” she said quietly, her voice breaking on the last word.

He didn’t respond, his silence cutting deeper than any argument could have.

And when the door slammed shut behind her, the emptiness it left behind was deafening.

-- time skip --

It had been weeks since Y/N left, and the emptiness in Lando’s flat mirrored the hollow ache in his chest. The regret weighed heavily on him, an unrelenting reminder of what he had lost. He tried to focus on racing, to bury himself in work, but it only made the silence louder.

Every room held memories of her—the scent of her perfume lingering in the air, the mug she always used sitting untouched on the kitchen counter. He stared at it now, running his thumb over the rim, a pang of guilt twisting his stomach.

"I’m sorry," he whispered to the empty room, though he knew it was far too late.

His phone buzzed on the counter, jolting him from his thoughts. The screen lit up with an unknown number. Frowning, he picked it up.

"Hello?"

"Is this Mr. Norris?" a calm but urgent voice asked.

"Yes, this is Lando Norris," he replied, his chest tightening with unease.

"This is St. Thomas’ Hospital. You’re listed as the emergency contact for Y/N Y/L/N. She’s been in an accident."

The world seemed to tilt on its axis. "What? An accident? Is she okay?" His voice cracked as panic surged through him.

"She’s stable, but you need to come down to the hospital immediately."

Lando didn’t think twice. Grabbing his keys, he bolted out the door, his heart pounding in his chest. The drive to the hospital felt like an eternity, every possible worst-case scenario playing in his mind.

At the Hospital

He burst through the hospital doors, scanning for the reception desk. "Y/N Y/L/N," he said breathlessly. "She was in an accident. Where is she?"

The nurse directed him to a room, and he practically sprinted down the hall. When he reached her room, he froze in the doorway.

Y/N was lying in the hospital bed, her face pale and a bandage on her forehead. But she was awake, her eyes widening when they landed on him.

"Lando?" she asked, her voice faint.

"I’m here," he said, stepping inside. His voice trembled as he approached her. "God, Y/N, are you okay? They told me about the accident—"

"I’m fine," she interrupted gently, though her voice was tired. "Just a few bruises and stitches."

Before he could respond, a doctor walked in, holding a clipboard.

"Ah, Mr. Norris, I’m glad you’re here," the doctor said with a kind smile.

"Is she okay? What happened?" Lando asked, his panic bubbling to the surface again.

"She’s stable, and the baby is fine as well," the doctor replied casually.

Lando blinked, the words not registering at first. "The baby?"

Y/N closed her eyes, exhaling deeply.

The doctor, sensing the tension, quickly excused herself.

Lando stared at Y/N, his mind racing. "You’re pregnant?"

"Yes," she said quietly, her gaze fixed on the blanket covering her legs.

"Why didn’t you tell me?" he asked, his voice breaking.

She finally looked at him, her eyes glistening with tears. "Because I couldn’t do this alone with you half in and half out of our lives, Lando. I needed to know you’d be there. Not just physically, but really there. For me and for this baby. I didn’t want my child to feel like a second choice."

"Second choice?" he repeated, his voice filled with anguish. "Y/N, I’ve made so many mistakes, but loving you was never one of them. I was stupid, I was selfish, and I pushed you away because I didn’t know how to balance everything. But this? This is everything. You and our baby are everything."

Tears slipped down her cheeks as she listened to his words. "Lando, I can’t do this if I’m going to be fighting for your attention. Our child deserves better than that."

He moved closer, kneeling by her bed and taking her hand in his. "You won’t have to fight anymore, Y/N. I promise. I’ll be there for you and for our baby. I’ll do whatever it takes to prove it to you. Just—just don’t shut me out."

Her lip trembled as she stared into his eyes, seeing the sincerity in them. "I need you to mean that, Lando. Not just for me, but for them."

"I do," he said firmly, his voice steady despite the tears pooling in his eyes. "I’ll be there for both of you, every step of the way."

After a long pause, she nodded, her grip on his hand tightening slightly. "Okay. But you get one chance, Lando. Don’t waste it."

"I won’t," he vowed, pressing a kiss to her knuckles.

For the first time in weeks, a sense of hope filled the room. It wasn’t going to be easy, but together, they could make it work.

time skip

Months later, Lando stood in a nursery he had painted himself, his hand resting on Y/N’s bump as they admired the crib he’d built.

"You really went all out, didn’t you?" she teased, smiling up at him.

"Nothing but the best for our baby," he said, leaning down to kiss her forehead.

Y/N smiled softly, her heart full as she rested her head against his shoulder. Maybe they had started rocky, but in this moment, she knew they were exactly where they were meant to be.

[sulkysnape]

A Lesson in Legilimency

NSFW WARNING: MINORS DO NOT INTERACT THIS ONE SHOT CONTAINS EXPLICIT CONTENT.

WORD COUNT: 3.5K

AUTHORS NOTE: This is like my first actual one shot in like a year... maybe two?? LMAO. So here is some pure smut i've been working on for the last week to make up for lost time. WHOOP

The art of Legilimency had always been seen as a weapon in Severus’s eyes. He had trained himself countlessly for years to master the precise skills to infiltrate a person’s mind and even manipulate it. It had been a tool of necessity, a means of survival… never something thrilling. 

Severus had never once dared to use Legilimency on his wife. There were times when he felt like she was hiding certain aspects of her past or not always saying what she truly meant, but he would never infiltrate her mind. After a year into their marriage however, she had let him see different memories from her life that she believed would bring them closer. He appreciated the gesture and enjoyed every moment that he could relive with her, and his wife seemed to enjoy that next level of closeness. 

As their marriage went on, life became busier and responsibility became a priority. Between Severus’s doubled work from both Albus and Voldemort, and his wife’s large presence in The Order, the couple’s quiet moments of intimacy grew less and less. This lack of intimacy caused frustration between Severus and his wife over time. Severus had never been the sort of man who craved intimacy. He spent most of his life in solitude and even after his marriage, intimacy was not something that he longed for. But he also was not immune to the weight of the distance. He could tell that his wife also missed their moments alone together. The two would often exchange soft glances towards each other whenever they could and his wife would always make sure to brush her hands against his own when they passed each other in the corridors. Their evenings were their only moments alone, however their exhausting days often superseded the need for intimacy.  

After a long day of teaching in the castle and then immediately heading to Grimmauld Place for a meeting, Severus was practically bursting with the need to just be with his wife. There was still so much to say during this meeting, yet the only thing he could focus on was his wife sitting across from him at the table. Arthur Weasley’s voice bounced around the table as Severus’s eyes locked onto his wife. He watched as she intently listened to whatever Arthur was rambling on about. Severus could see it in his wife’s demeanor; the way her shoulders tensed slightly as she ran her fingertips across the rim of her goblet. She was just as frustrated as he was. She shifted in her seat slightly, finally glancing his way. Severus curled his fingers underneath the table as he made eye contact with his wife; a multitude of thoughts flashed through his mind. He thought about the risks, the possibility of reading the situation wrong. But as she looked at him, he was already acting before he could consider any other consequences. 

By this point in Severus’s life, using Legilimency was like tying his shoes. With an effortless flicker of intent, Severus reached out towards his wife. His wife didn’t flinch. She blinked, slow and measured as she moved her fingers slowly around the rim of her cup. Severus kept his eyes locked onto his wife as he tried his best to pretend that he was paying attention to the meeting. He focused his thoughts as he flashed a memory from months before through her mind. The hotness of their breaths, his firm hands holding her straddled hips roughly against his lap, the soft mutters. Flashes of moments flooded her mind, completely unfiltered and raw. Across the table, she stiffened as her grip on her goblet tightened. Severus watched as her eyes glanced towards him quickly while raising her brows slightly. Severus kept a straight face as he held his gaze on his wife as she rolled her shoulders back. 

He continued to keep his thoughts to himself for the rest of the meeting, occasionally glancing over towards her to slightly raise a brow or give a subtle smirk. When they returned back to their private chambers that night, she wasted no time. The door had barely closed when she turned to face him with a slight grin on her face. He barely had time to register anything as his back hit the closed door behind him. 

“Legilimency during an Order meeting?” She spoke softly as her hands gripped the sides of his cloak, “And here I thought my husband was a man of discipline.”

Severus chuckled softly as he looked down at his wife. 

“You seemed…disinterested. I simply provided you with something more…engaging to focus on, my love” 

His wife groaned slightly as she leaned forward to peck his lips. Each kiss continued to grow more and more heated as they made their way through the livingroom and down the hall. Severus kept his hand on the small of his wife’s back as he led her down the hall and towards their shared bedroom. They moved forward through the bedroom, losing any resemblance of restraint. He slowly lowered his wife down onto the bed so that she was now laying on her back. Severus stood still for a moment as he looked down at his wife. This was the first time they have been able to have any form of intimacy in quite some time now, so Severus wanted to savor the moment. She looked up at him as she fidgeted with her fingers, her chest rising up and down. Severus stood at the edge of their bed as he moved his hands to slowly and deliberately unbutton each button on his cloak, keeping his eyes on his wife the entire time. He smirked softly as he watched his wife let out a slight huff of impatience. He moved his hands down to begin unbuttoning the last half of his cloak as he pushed into his wife’s mind with ease once more. In an instant, his mind was flooded with his wife’s echoing voice pleading with need. His lip twitched slightly as he slipped his cloak down to the floor before moving forward to lean over his wife. He dipped his head down slightly as he whispered into her ear with a breathy voice. 

“You should be more careful about the thoughts you allow into your mind, darling.” 

The shiver underneath his body was the only response he needed. He dipped his head down once more to gently kiss her earlobe and then down to her neck, feeling her body arch underneath him. Severus exhaled slowly as he continued to leave gentle trails of kisses down her neck, allowing himself the rare indulgence of just feeling. He moved his mouth to the edge of her jaw as he worked his way towards her mouth. As their lips connected once more, Severus’s hands instinctively moved to each of his wife’s wrists, pinning them gently above her head. His wife groaned into the kiss as she moved her head forward to deepen the embrace. Not letting go of her wrists, Severus smiled into her mouth as her gasp interrupted their kiss. He slowly lifted his head back to gaze down at his wife as he watched her eyes widen. She could feel the heat between her legs instantly as his fingers brushed underneath the hem of her skirt. He watched her brows furrow as she tried to make sense of the situation. He still held her wrists above her head. He hadn’t moved. 

Severus watched her twitch underneath his body as he kept the intent locked in his mind. Another phantom caress moved below her hips as it pressed warmly against the cloth of her panties. He knew that the pressure was working, even if he was not touching her himself. The temptation to smirk was overwhelming as Severus cocked his head, looking down at his wife. 

“Is something wrong?” He spoke simply. 

“You know what you’re doing” she replied almost in an instant. 

The corners of Severus’s mouth turned up slightly. 

“Do I?” 

He pressed further, keeping the pressure firm between her legs as he began to work another force of pressure underneath her sweater. Severus dipped his head back down, planting soft, wet kisses against her neck as his wife began to feel a swirling sensation against both buds of her nipples. The soft groan releasing from her mouth was all the satisfaction that Severus needed as he continued to please his wife. His lips proceeded to trail down as he listened to his wife’s moans of pleasure. Glancing up slightly, he watched his wife's eyes squeezed shut, arching her back while twitching ever so slightly. Keeping the pressure swirling between her legs and under his sweater, Severus relaxed his mind even more as he planted one more kiss against her neck before pulling away without her noticing. Her breath continued to hitch as her head tipped further to the side to allow him more access that he was no longer taking. Her fingers twitched in place, still laying on the pillows above her head. 

He stood at the edge of the bed now, just watching. She moaned softly, as if she could still feel his breath against her skin. He watched her hips rise and fall as she squirmed against the pressure that was between her legs. The moment felt like it lasted forever as Severus just stood and admired his wife, engulfed in pleasure. He stepped forward quietly as he moved his hand out to gently touch her leg. 

“Such a pretty reaction to something that isn’t even there.” 

He watched her eyes flutter gently for a moment before quickly settling her gaze on him standing at the edge of the bed. Furrowing her brows, she opened her mouth slightly to speak, but the pressure between her legs quickly put a stop to that. Severus stepped forward slowly as he placed his hand down on the hem of her skirt. 

“Do I even have to touch you?” He spoke once more, continuing with his confidence. 

“Severus,” she gasped slightly, “Please.” 

He moved his hands once more to gently pull the edges of her skirt below her hips and down to the floor. He leaned forward, gently placing a kiss on top of her panties. She shuttered under his kiss, arching her back again while moving her legs further apart. He placed a second kiss before gently resting the pad of his thumb over the cloth that covered her clit. Only his eyes flashed up towards her as he circled his thumb in a slow, hard movement. 

“Is this the pressure you love so dearly?” He held his gaze directly on her, “So dearly that you’d even let yourself fall apart without a single..real touch?” 

She only responded with a breathy groan as she parted her legs further for him, resulting in a soft chuckle escaping from Severus’s mouth. He dipped his head down slowly to move himself between her legs, leaving gentle kisses between her inner thighs. 

“Severus..” His wife let out another breathy moan.

“Tell me,” He spoke with his voice firmer now, “Which feels more like me?”

His fingers slowly crept over the cloth of her panties as he held them to the side with his fingertips. Making eye contact with her once more, his head lowered further as he planted a soft kiss against her folds. She shuddered beneath him as he held his lips firmly against her entrance, gently tracing soft kisses up and down her folds. A small breath of air escaped from his mouth as he pressed his face further into her slick. The tip of his nose gently pressed against her clit as he leaned his mouth forward to lick along her folds before moving to suck ever so slightly around her now swollen bud. He kept his gaze locked onto hers as continued the light attacks of suction followed by a subtle flick of his tongue. Severus couldn’t help but let out a soft groan as he continued his assault, humming against her mound while swirling his tongue in a calculated motion. He continued to massage his fingers in a circle around her clit, glancing up at her once more. 

Focusing his intent once more, he moved his mouth from her cunt to trail kisses up her stomach, pulling her sweater over her head. Even as his kisses left her swollen mound, the pressure and suction feeling continued in his wife’s mind. She gasped and arched beneath him as he met his lips with her own, pecking them once before glancing down to stare at his wife, who was now a complete mess.

“You are falling apart, my love,” He whispered seductively.

“Severus,” she managed to groan, “Please…” 

“Please what? Is that all you can say?” He responded almost instantly, “I haven’t even begun.” 

His kisses trailed from her jaw down to her chest, placing gentle kisses and nibbles all over before glancing back up at his wife. 

“You’ve missed this, haven’t you?” He spoke in a low growl before wrapping his lips around one of her hard nipples, feeling her twitch beneath him. “Your body certainly has missed this.” 

Severus moved his mouth to her other nipple, lightly circling his tongue around her sensitive bud while squeezing the other lightly with his fingertips. The pressure between her legs continued as his wife squirmed in complete pleasure. Severus could feel the blood flowing to his cock even more than it already had. He wanted to drag this out for as long as he could, but he also had his own limits. Severus moved his mouth away from her nipple before leaning back to sit up once more. He glanced down at his wife, who was still writhing in ecstasy. Moving his hands to the buttons of his trousers, he held his gaze on her while unfastening each button and pulling his trousers to the floor. His cock throbbed painfully under his now incredibly tight boxers as he moved his hand to his waistline to pull them to the floor as well. The second he pushed his boxers down, his cock sprung free. He could practically feel his heartbeat in the head of his cock as he gripped his fist around the shaft, keeping his eyes locked onto his wife on the bed. 

He leaned forward once more to hover over his wife as she arched beneath him. He felt the hot air from her gasps blow against his cheek, making his cock twitch. Dipping his head down farther, Severus leaned in to kiss his wife passionately, moving his right hand to cover her eyes as she writhed under him. He continued the kiss, using his free hand to fist his cock and position himself at her entrance. He swiped the head of his cock against her now wet folds, making it incredibly easy for him to thrust into her. Keeping his right hand over his wife’s eyes, Severus grunted softly as he thrust his hips forward, burying his cock completely into her cunt as an uncontrolled moan released from his own mouth. He held himself in place for a few moments as he tried to regain some sort of control. His eyes rolled back, engulfed in the warmth and wetness wrapped around his cock.  His wife continued to twitch and squirm beneath him, her cunt tightening around his cock with each moan. As Severus watched her, he realized she was too lost in ecstasy to realize that he was now buried deep inside of her. He promised himself that he would keep some control…that he would take his time. But he was starting to suffer now and needed his own pleasure. 

Keeping his hand firmly over her eyes, Severus pulled his hips back gently, slipping his cock out to the tip before slamming himself directly back inside of her with a grunt. His wife gasped underneath him as her walls tightened around his cock once more. 

“You poor thing,” He lowered his head to speak in a low growl, “You don’t even know what is real anymore do you?” 

He snapped his hips forward again, feeling his cock twitch inside of her. He moved his mouth against her ear, whispering in a low voice.

“Look at yourself, darling.”

He moved his hand away from her eyes, positioning himself now to hold himself up. Continuing the pressure circling around her clit that he put there with his mind, Severus thrust his hips forward for the third time, now beginning a slow pace. He held his gaze on his wife as she moaned and twisted beneath him. Her eyes fluttered open partially as she looked around, her chest rising and falling rapidly. Severus could see that the constant pressure was beginning to overstimulate her. Her cheeks were flushed and she twitched every couple of seconds. She could feel his cock pulsating inside of her with every pump as his calculated thrusts began to speed up. He bit the skin on the inside of his cheek, thrusting his hips forward with a viscous snap. Keeping his eyes on her, he focused his mind once again. 

Still keeping up with his pace, Severus began to slip through his wife’s mind once again. He grunted, continuing to pound into her while beginning to think about their night together a few months ago. The moment the thought entered his mind, he felt her walls tighten around him as her moans grew louder, but slightly strained. Severus imagined the night he pounded into her mercilessly with his hand gently wrapped around her throat. His wife knew his arms were still holding himself up, and that this was another one of his mind intrusions. She felt the slight tension around her throat, heightening everything she was feeling. 

Severus already had her in the palm of his hand, so pushing his mind into hers was incredibly simple. He made sure that the pressure around her throat was light, but just enough to keep her aware of his presence. She kept her eyes locked onto his as her cheeks turned pinker than they already were. She bit the skin on the bottom of her lip, grunting along with her husband as he slammed into her and overloaded her body and mind with stimulation and pressure. 

Severus moved his arm to rest his right hand on her lower stomach, pressing and rubbing softly while thrusting into her. He slowly lost some of his rhythm as he could feel himself nearing orgasm. Sliding his hand down a few inches, he used his thumb to rub her swollen clit in light circles. Her legs snapped around his hips as she clenched around him, throwing her head back while letting out another stifled moan. She could feel the pressure building up inside of her and Severus was close to his own release. The sounds of him plunging into her and their moans echoed through the room. His thrusts had now turned into slow, hard pumps, his body leaning forward to bring his mouth to her collarbone. He kissed along her collarbone, leaving small love-bites between each kiss, causing her to arch herself further into him. He snapped himself forward roughly, grunting in her ear with each pump. 

“Sev… I’m-” she gasped, barely getting the words out. 

“Gods… I’ve… missed… you…” He grunted with each thrust, throwing his face into her neck. 

With that, she threw her head back, her moans echoing through the bedroom. Severus worked up enough energy to lift his head, continuing his thrusts as he looked down at his wife coming undone. 

“There we are…” He hummed, “Look at me, darling.”

She struggled, but she eventually attempted to flutter her eyes open to look up at her husband moving into her. Her toes curled, feeling a tingling crawl up and down her body. As Severus thrusted in, warmth spread over her, making her twitch and spasm in pleasure. 

“G-GOD..” She moaned out, “God, I-I lo-ove you..” 

He thrust his hips forward with a few more snaps before feeling the warmth spread through his own body, his cock twitching before the rest of his body felt numb. Severus leaned forward, moving more of his weight onto his wife as a broken moan slipped from his mouth. He pushed his cock deeper into her, riding out his release with his wife clenching around him. Severus pushed his face further into her neck with his eyes rolling to the back of his head, feeling nothing but pleasure throughout his body. He tried his best to keep his mind focused, but the stimulation continued to twitch throughout him making it incredibly difficult to remain focused. With one final thrust, Severus moved from his wife’s mind, putting a stop to the pressure between her legs and around her throat. 

A soft whimper slipped from her mouth before she lifted her arms to brush Severus’s hands with her fingers, still feeling a tingling all over her body. She moved her fingers through his tangled hair while they each came down from their climaxes. Severus kept his face tucked in his wife’s neck, keeping his cock deep inside of her. The two laid in that position for quite some time in total silence. Eventually, Severus lifted his head to look down at his flushed wife. 

“Never again,” He spoke in a soft voice before leaning down to place a gentle kiss on her cheek, “Never this long apart again.”