#being a child and seeing her mother get all these phone calls about people in their relatives' neighborhood who died

[karinyosa]

i constantly re-remember how recently the countries my family are from gained independence. like i have relatives older than their countries' independence

[slaygentford]

Armand's podcast chiarobscuro on obscure art history is just him speaking in a monotone for 1 hour about 1 page of 1 illuminated manuscript nd it's coincidentally number 1 trending on pods because people use it as a sleep aid. but then sometimes in the middle of it he'll say something incredibly disturbing and a cult (haha.) following starts claiming there are hidden subliminals in it which are allegations Armand never acknowledges and which people on twitter roast but reality shifters on tik tok get increasingly into. Daniels podcast by/line is beat out consistently by pod save America which is totally fine and not contributing to his alcoholism or his divorce or his psychosexual obsession with armand. he won't listen to armands podcast as a point of principle except for when he puts it on to fall asleep and then gets weirdly turned on and then pavlovs himself into arousal every time he hears armands voice. one sided psychological torture. Armand's cult (haha.) following continues to grow until lestat's podcast lestat (self-titled) filed in culture & the arts blows up and usurps him even though its an hour and a half one-man monologue about quite genuinely nothing at all, though worryingly often, his mother. and Louis? well Louis isnt privy to any of this because he has a child to raise and zones out whenever lestat starts talking about renting out a bigger recording studio for his podcast so that he can have guests on and invest in sound equipment FOR CLAUDIAS FUTURE, OF COURSE. her college fund Louis! the dividends will go toward her college fund. ahaha. what is the definition of this: dividends. Louis gets curious and listens to lestats podcast but gets distracted by recommended for you: chiarobscuro, finds it interesting enough that he doesn't fall asleep, and mentions it offhandedly to lestat after telling him lestat (self-titled) is cute. lestat is distracted by the high of being told Louis likes his podcast but wakes up in the middle of the night sitting straight up in bed when he remembers Louis said "chiarobscuro" in passing at precisely 7:46am this morning. lestat who has armand in his phone represented by the 🕴🏼emoji from college (Louis doesnt know he knows him, lestat has never once mentioned him) calls him from the bathroom at 4am and demands he immediately end his podcasting career. armand who of course answered at 4am counters that they meet in a neutral location to discuss terms. at 5am lestat and armand meet at a park. lestat rages, scaring off several sunrise joggers and their dogs. armand allows this to happen in silence and then says look across the pond. at which point lestat does and sees a bedraggled 50 year old white man plodding along with bodega coffee. you needn't worry about your Louis, says armand. I have a different project. I have been implanting subliminal messages in my podcasts in order to lure Molloy into my thrall. lestat, grudgingly impressed, concedes and stops to get coffee for the family before going back home. Louis and claudia are delighted by the impromptu breakfast and lestat is offered a special shower time reward. before disrobing, and working quickly, he hacks Louis' phone (passcode claudia's birthday) and in a fit of true selfless sacrifice deletes not just Louis' subscription to chiarobscuro, but his podcast app as a whole--damning his own podcast to never again be heard by Louis but removing armand permanently from their lives forever. he joins Louis in the shower, stunned by his own genius. perhaps he will have that worm molloy on his show in order to thwart armands plans. lestat 2 armand 0. it's almost enough to ease the burn of armand telling lestat in their audio production class in college that he's too dumb to start a podcast

[xxxdreamscapexxx]

Sweet trouble

Pairing: Step!Mother Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader

Word count: 12.7k

Summary: Being left home alone is the perfect time to catch up on all your secret activities. What you don't expect is that your Step Mother has secrets of her own, or that you'll stumble on them accidentally. What will happen when she finds out you've been going through her things?

Warning: NSFW, 18+, lesbian relationship, Stepcest?, masturbation, edging, teasing, oral, fingering, finger sucking, Mommy!Kink, top!Wanda, Bottom!Reader

Masterlist with all my works.

When you woke up this morning, you never, in your wildest dreams imagined that one of your most secret, most shameful desires will come true. It was something you had only seen in fanfiction and maybe twisted porn, but never believed real people did, or that it could in fact, happen to you. Truthfully, if someone had told you such a thing will happen, you would have scoffed and called them crazy.

But you were getting ahead of yourself. Your morning started the way it often did during the summer. You got up and walked down the stairs, to find Wanda sipping her coffee and scrolling through her phone. As usual, she put it away as soon as she saw you and she greeted you warmly.

Wanda Maximoff was your stepmother. She had married your father a little over 4 years ago, but you had known her for almost 5 and despite having a rocky start with the woman, you actually had a great relationship with her. She was warm and sweet and she never treated you like a child, nor did she try to “replace” your actual mother, who did her best to stay in your life. In fact, Wanda treated you with respect and kindness and you soon saw her as a friend.

Well… That wasn’t entirely true. You started seeing her as a friend at first, but over the years that connection shifted. She talked to you about the things your parents never wanted to, she always listened without prejudice or judgement and gave amazing advice. She also cared about your interests and she supported all your hobbies and little projects and she even often helped you.

Wanda was there when you decided to make a replica of the “T.A.R.D.I.S” from “Doctor Who” and spent an entire weekend helping you build it, so it would end up perfect, she watched every scary movie you asked for, because you could never bring yourself to do it on your own, and even though you were both scared, she always pretended not to be. For your sake. And then, when you were too scared to sleep alone, she pretended to fall asleep on the couch and let you snuggle into her, even if her back hurt the next day. She encouraged your writing, she read every book you ranted about… She supported you when you came out. For all those things and so much more, you gave Wanda your love.

Unfortunately for you, those were also the reasons why at some point, you stopped seeing Wanda as a friend and started seeing her as the woman of your dreams. Yes, cheesy. But true. And that idea gnawed at you ever since you stopped trying to lie to yourself.

The truth is, you spent way more time with Wanda than your father ever did. He was good, a good man and a good father, but his work often had him travelling for long. When you were young, he often took the whole family with him. Had private tutors for you, made sure you were educated by the best and brightest and the love of learning connected you together. But as you grew older, that life drove your mother away. To make the matters worse, he realized you needed stability just around the same time he met Wanda and soon, you were left in the big house, surrounded by housekeeping and your new stepmother, while he was away for months at a time. But at least he let you attend high school, instead of hiring more tutors, so you wouldn’t feel so alone.

You often wondered why Wanda chose to be with him when you, his daughter, knew more about her, spent more time with her and, you were sure, loved her far more than he did. But you never dared to ask and she never spoke of that, preferring to focus on you instead and you reciprocated that interest. You watched her favourite sitcoms with her, spent afternoons making pottery with her, which resulted in way too many crooked ceramic mugs in your home that you never knew what to do with, but loved too much to throw away. You taught her calligraphy, after you showed her your first story and she declared that you have the “prettiest handwriting” and asked you to teach her. In turn, she gave you cooking lessons, because her food was by far, the best thing you had tasted, until it became a tradition that you made dinner together.

God, you shared so much of your life, so much of yourself with the woman, you gave so much of yourself to her, that it shouldn’t have come as such a surprise that you ended up falling for her. And her way with you didn’t help matters either. And yes, it wasn’t something outrageous. It was little things, like the way she’d hold you, pulling you closer into her side during movie nights, which by the way were almost every night. It was the way she sat with you on the couch in the study, reading her book while you did homework, mindlessly playing with your hair, it was her protective on the small of your back, when you felt surrounded by people, the way she always knew when you needed her to step in and save you from strangers, or the soft way she held your hand when you went somewhere together…

It was never one thing. It was a million little things and each one had you falling more and more deeply in love with her, until you couldn’t deny it anymore. You realized it during your junior year, when all your friends wouldn’t shut up about boys and their crushes and all you would think about was Wanda. What plans you had with her, what you’d watch with her, what meal you’ll be making together, where you’d go over the weekend… It was all Wanda. Even in your dreams. And to make matters worse, those dreams soon manifested into your waking hours, flooding your thoughts with nothing but her.

Now, the beginning of summer after senior year, when you had decided to take a gap year before college and focus on yourself, your writing, perhaps even travelling, you were fully aware that you wanted none of those things without her. You hadn’t booked a single destination, because you hadn’t yet the courage to ask if she’d join you. You had stopped showing her your stories, because they were all about her and despite your best efforts had turned highly suggestive and then straight up erotic, up to the point that they no longer soothed you, when you thought of Wanda, but rather left you even more turned on and needy.

The neediness, unfortunately for you, had been another new development. No matter how many cold showers you took, how many times you masturbated to thoughts of her, the ache between your legs never quite went away. Actually, every time you’d see her, every night when she cuddled you and played you a movie, every evening when you helped her make dinner, each hot afternoon spent at the pool with her, left you a horny mess.

Today, after you helped Wanda make breakfast, that the two of you shared, she asked you if you’d like to go out with her. She had some errands to do and she promised to make it fun, despite the tediousness, offering you lunch at your favourite restaurant, or perhaps a small shopping trip in the afternoon, but you declined, opting to stay home instead.

To be fair, you wanted to go with her, you wanted to spend every second you could with her, but being left home alone meant that you could perhaps catch up on your writing without her seeing you and asking to read your story, or finally take care of the ache between your legs that lately never went away, but you were never alone for… Maybe even do it, the way you so often longed for, but never could… God, you were a twisted girl. But you couldn’t help it. You just wanted her so much.

Wanda seemed a little bit surprised and frankly disappointed by your refusal, but she took a deep breath and she wished you a nice day, before she took her purse and her car keys, phone tucked in the back pocket of her tightly fitted jeans and she left, putting on her stylish sunglass, before opening the front door and disappearing from your view.

As soon as she was gone, you rushed to the study, reaching out behind a cluster of old, dusty books and taking out the Paperblanks hardcover journal dedicated to Edgar Allan Poe that she got you as a gift. It was beautiful and stylish and filled with all the stories you wrote about her.

As soon as the notebook fell open, you saw the last page you had written on and your fingers traced the last paragraph, reading through it. “You don’t hesitate when your fingers lace with my hair, your grip firm as you hold me in place and you study my face. My mouth open, my tongue sticking out as it awaits your dripping pussy...” Yes, you remember that and your legs instantly cross over each-other at the wave of arousal, but you keep it at bay.

For the next few hours all you do is write. Your fantasies running rampant and free and filling the pages. It was almost a trans-like state, your hand moving almost on its own while the images in your head played out in front of your eyes. It felt freeing to be able to “share” your thoughts somehow, even if no one ever saw them and you only reluctantly stopped, when your stomach growled for food and your hand was cramping.

You made your way to the kitchen, groaning, your writing session had left you wet and so needy, that despite your instincts and Wanda’s voice in your head, telling you to eat something heathy and filling, you pulled out a fruit yogurt with mango and maracuja and ate it, leaning on the counter, wanting to stretch your legs a little.

Finished with your “meal”, you headed upstairs, making your way to the bedrooms. Yours was at the end of the hall and you headed for it, but stopped mid-way, when you saw Wanda’s bedroom door was slightly ajar and you stopped right in front of it, debating with yourself. You knew you shouldn’t go in, that it was an invasion of her privacy, but your heart was so full of longing for her that you eventually reasoned, that you’ll only look around… Just get her scent in your nostrils and leave.

As soon as you walked in, your eyes started to search the unfamiliar space. It’s not that you’ve never been here, but the room was so alien to you, one you’d spent the least time in, that it almost didn’t feel right. You certainly never dared be so inquisitive, when Wanda was there with you.

Your eyes scanned every object, every photo, most of which were of you and Wanda and you allowed yourself to breathe in the aroma of everything Wanda. It smelled like clean sheets and her favourite vanilla and Himalayan magnolia air freshener, like her perfume and just something uniquely her. God, you’d roll around in it if you could.

Everything seemed so perfectly in order, her bed made and without a single crinkle in it, the room so pristine and clean. It was lovely, and your heart skipped a beat at the thought that you wished you could wake up here, next to her each morning.

Walking further into the room, your curiosity almost entirely satisfied now, you ran your fingers over the objects she had on display. Souvenirs from trips the two of you had went to, her certificate for completing a “beginners” course in Latin dances, that she only went to for you and that you had stopped attending, because you hated how every man in the studio drooled over her, the ceramic figurine of a cute bear that you made her one time, a bowl of sea shells that the two of you had collected last summer at the beach…

You were just about ready to leave, when the sight of a drawer, half-open and because of that seeming out of place, caught your attention. Everything was so perfectly in order in this room, that it looked so strange to see it left like this and you went to it thoughtlessly, pulling it open to inspect its content, only to gasp in surprise at what you found there.

It was full of toys. Sex toys, to be exact and you couldn’t help but stumble backwards a little at seeing just how many there were. Dildos in all colours, shapes and sizes and made from different materials were organized, each in its individual place. Handcuffs, soft Velcro cuffs and steal, regular ones easily distinguished. Ropes, blindfolds, some butt plugs, vibrators, lube, a couple of harnesses and even other things that you couldn’t name or guess the intended use of, could be seen laid out and you studied them with deep curiosity.

Did Wanda use all these? Did she lay here, in her big, soft bed and play with herself at night? What did she think about? Who did she picture in her fantasies, when she buried one of these toys inside herself? Did she do it slowly, or did she like it rough? How did it feel to be stretched out and full?

As your mind was flooded with questions, you mindlessly got closer, your hand reaching into the drawer and your fingertips grazing a rather large, realistic looking dildo. You’d never actually seen toys in real life, so the sensation was both strange and exhilarating. Sure, you were 19 now and could buy them if you wanted to, but the thought just never appealed to you.

You just couldn’t picture it. You’d never had anything other than two of your fingers inside yourself and it had already felt too much. You couldn’t even imagine what something so big would feel like or would do to you. Did Wanda enjoy the feeling of them? Did she ever wear her harness and bury one of these inside someone or did she like to be on the receiving end? You certainly liked to imagine yourself on the receiving end of one of her toys, especially after you learned of her past with women. She had shared those details when you came out to her, hoping to soothe you and help you feel like you’re not alone, but you never imagined that you’ll one day walk into your stepmother’s bedroom and find so many toys, or that you’ll find yourself wishing you could see her play with them… God, the one you reached for looked so big, so thick in your hand. That could never fit inside you.

Yet the thought of Wanda stepping into her harness and picking out a dildo from her collection, while you waited for her in the bed, spread out and so needy for her, had your legs squeezing together in search for relief. Would she tie you down? Would she be sweet and soft? Would she use her fingers and her mouth? What would it feel like to have your arms wrapped around her, to be able to kiss her, as she had her way with you?

Fuck, you needed relief. And you needed it now. And you knew you should just go to your room and do what you always did, but this time you couldn’t. You couldn’t just close your eyes and picture Wanda, when here, in her room, all your senses were surrounded by her.

You hesitated for a moment, considering the danger, but it was still early and all the staff had the next few weeks off, so you knew you’ll be all alone. You could just… Lie down. Not even under the covers, just on top of her sheets and maybe pull your panties to the side. They were all wet already. You’ll just pull your dress up and take care of that ache and then you’ll fix Wanda’s bed and leave.

You knew it was a bad idea, but in your brain, clouded by lust, you couldn’t help yourself and gave in. So you did exactly as you planned, the skirts of your dress bunched up around your waist, your panties pulled to the side, while your fingers circled your clit. You lay on your stomach, you face buried in Wanda’s pillow and inhaling her scent as your mind filled with images of her. It was wonderful. God, it was heavenly. But it wasn’t enough. Before you knew it, you had made yourself orgasm twice already, but the desperate feeling never went away. You needed more.

You slowly turned, laying on your back, your hand finding its way back to your clit, but it was only a measure to keep you calm while you thought. What could you do? And almost like fate, your face turned to the open drawer full of toys and an idea sparked inside you. You could… No, that was an extremely bad idea. It was wrong… But maybe, it could help?

Getting up, telling yourself you’ll only take a quick look, you made your way back to the drawer and looked inside. You had no idea how to choose, so you trusted your instincts, picking a fairly small, pink dildo that seemed to look cute and entirely forgetting what a terrible idea this was, you made your way back to Wanda’s bed with giddiness, lying on your back and looking the toy over for a moment, before reaching down.

You rubbed the toy’s head against your opening, getting it slick with your juices and teasing your clit a little, before you started to slowly push it inside. The stretch felt unfamiliar, the toy, despite being small, still being larger than your fingers and you took your time to let it sink in deeper, allowing your pussy some time to adjust to it.

In just a few minutes, you had it fully inside you, the base pressing against your opening and oh, it was perfect. It was exactly what you needed and you quickly reached down with your free hand, finding your clit and adding the extra stimulation. Thoughts of Wanda quickly made their way into your head and you started to imagine the older woman doing exactly what you did to yourself, her hands working you perfectly, while her velvety voice wrapped around you and made you lose yourself entirely.

Taking your time to let it unfold, your body buzzing with excitement and pleasure, your muscles tightening, you knew you were about to have one of the best orgasms of your life, when suddenly, you heard the front door open and shortly after shut itself.

Fuck!

Sitting up, you heard Wanda’s keys land in the bowl with yours and your nervous anxiety hit a new high, when she called out your name form the living room.

Fuck!

She’d start looking for you soon, if you didn’t act quickly! God, what do you do? You needed to get out of there!

Your eyes roamed around the room nervously, toy still buried inside you and you knew you couldn’t put it back like that, covered in your slick! She’ll see it eventually and then she’ll know what you did. In the rush of the moment, you did the only thing you thought would be smart. You put your panties back where they belonged, seeing the imprint of the dildo against them and you got out of her bed. You tried to smoothen it as much as you could, but you herd her voice call out your name again, this time from the kitchen and you knew she’ll come up the stairs next. In a rush, you just closed her drawer and practically ran out, leaving the door slightly ajar as it was and you hesitated if you should go to your room, but before you could make your way there, you heard Wanda’s steps as she ascended the stairs and you knew there will be no time.

Closing your eyes for a moment, wiping your sweaty palms on your dress and feeling the fullness as you tried to calm your nerves, you committed to the decision you knew you had to make and despite every instinct of yours, you rushed towards her, meeting her just as she was at the top of the stairs.

“Ah, Y/N, there you are! I was calling you.” She smiled as she saw you, reaching out to give you a hug.

“Yeah, I heard you, I was just coming to meet you.” You manage to say, forcing a smile.

“Are you all right, honey?” The older woman’s eyebrows furrowed. “You look a little flushed.” She said with concern, one of her hands reaching out to feel your forehead. “And you feel warm too.” She determined, her eyes scanning you.

“Yeah, I’m all good.” You tried to reassure her, still practically blocking the older woman’s path.

“You sure?” Wanda asked once more, concern evident in her eyes and you tried to calm your nerves.

“I promise.” You tried to say with conviction and hoping your knees wouldn’t buckle.

“Ok, honey, but if you feel unwell, you’ll tell me, right?”

“Of course.” You smiled warmly and, seeing that the woman seemed to be going to her room, the place where you had just been, you tried to dissuade her. “Hey, I was wondering, could we have pasta for dinner today? The one with the special sauce you make?”

“Sure, honey.” Wanda beamed, her hand stroking your cheek softly before she moved past you. “Let me go get changed and we’ll go make it together.” She suggested.

Not wanting to seem weird, you let the woman pass and after watching her enter her bedroom, you actually relaxed a little, thinking that you could use this time to go back to your own room and pull out the dildo still nestled inside you, when her voice forced you to stiffen once more.

“Hey, honey, why don’t you go and take out the vegetables from the fridge and start washing them? I’ll be right down.” Wanda called out, interrupting your train of thought and destroying any chance you had of going through with disposing of the cursed toy.

“Ok.” You called out, facing the stairs defeatedly.

In your guilt over what you did, you felt like you couldn’t risk saying “no” and going to your room instead, not wanting to rouse Wanda’s suspicion. So, a little wobbly on your legs and feeling even more aroused than when you first went in her bedroom, you walked down the stairs, doing exactly as she asked, planning how to excuse yourself later and pull the damned thing out of you.

Wanda walked into her bedroom and started to unbutton her shirt, asking you to start dinner as she went, but suddenly stopped, her eyes narrowing. It wasn’t that there was something particularly wrong, it’s just that something felt out of place and she couldn’t quite put her finger on it.

Shrugging, she tossed her shirt on an empty chair and started to take off her jeans next, leaving herself in just her underwear and going to the closet to pick out more comfy clothes. She put on a pair of black sweats and took out a dark red top that she knew you loved and put it over her head, turning to leave, when her eyes narrowed again.

Her bed was all wrinkled and the covers were looking lumpy and it bothered her somehow. Did she leave it like this today? She leaned down and started to fix it, her hands smoothing the covers and tucking them in as she always did, when her palm ran over a damp spot. Now this really caught her attention and she inspected it more closely.

It looked like a small wet spot, more visible now that she knew to look for it and she wasn’t sure what to make of it. Had you been here? But why would you be on her bed? That didn’t make sense, until a realization came over her, like pieces of a puzzle coming together. Your flushed face, the way you tried to block her path, how out of breath you seemed and this… The state of her bed… She suddenly straightened, rushing to her drawer.

As soon as she opened it, she knew what you had done. She knew her collection very well, knew exactly what she owned and where it was, so the absent pink dildo was like a glaring hole in the middle of her drawer. But why hadn’t you put it back? Had she gotten home and interrupted you? That seemed more and more likely and at the thought, she could only sigh.

Wanda was a lot of things, but stupid just wasn’t one of them. She realized you had a crush on her somewhere around the end of your junior year and at first the thought scared her. Sure, she had noticed you turning into a beautiful young woman, she wasn’t blind, and you had already shared with her that you were gay, but she never imagined you’d develop feelings towards her. Naturally, she thought it was simple curiosity. You were growing, it was normal. It would probably go away on its own. You were surrounded by girls your own age, with young bodies and unburdened by life, so she believed you’d soon move on.

But as time passed those lingering looks you gave her started to be accompanied by something else. A kind of longing in your eyes, a kind of shy almost hope that she couldn’t quite place. Until eventually she did. Wanda knew you better than anyone in the world, she knew what made you tick and as she watched your gaze follow her, while she sipped wine, your eyes fixed on her lips and your legs squeezing together, she realized that your relationship with her had changed. You saw her differently.

That thought scared Wanda more than she ever expected and she excused herself quickly, practically running to her bedroom and burying her face in her pillow and her first thoughts were for you. She felt terrible, imagining how scared you must be, how sad and disheartened to be infatuated with your father’s wife. She kept thinking about how alone you must feel, not being able to tell anyone. How heart wrenching it must be to spend every day with her and know she was with another.

In her eyes you were her girl and she held so much love for you that the knowledge that she caused such feelings inside you, that she caused you so much pain, was devastating to her. After realizing what really bothered you, she spent so many sleepless nights, thinking of you. And in her love, she thought the best thing for you would be to pull away from you.

Yes, she didn’t love your father anymore… If ever. He was hardly ever home, hardly ever spending any time with her, always promising to retire, but never doing so… The only reason she stayed all this time was always you. She married him because she wanted a family, never expecting that she’ll find that in you. And when she had… Well… That made her choice very easy. But you were such a young girl. An old soul, admittedly, but still so young. She couldn’t let you spend those sweet years pining over your stepmother. So pull away she did.

Little did she know how devasted you’d be, feeling her absence as a hole in your heart and crying so many nights, when you thought that she no longer wanted your presence. She watched your heartbreak from afar, hating herself for it, yet thinking it would be for the best, until one night, when she heard you speak to one of your friends on the phone.

Your broken voice almost made her cry then and there and she vowed to never do that to you again. So she made sure that things went back to normal, to the routine the two of you had, but she never quite stopped noticing how the love in you bloomed.

The summer vacation after your junior year she spent entirely with you, having a grand time going to the beach, sunbathing, while you read books and drank cocktails together. Yours virgin, of course. But she’d let you have a sip from hers every once in a while, to indulge your curiosity. She’d rather let you drink with her and make sure you’re safe.

Then came your 18th birthday and the party you hosted at the house, you and your friends having fun around the pool and she thought that with all these people around you, you’d lose interest, but you never did. After everyone was gone, all you wanted was to cuddle up to her on the couch and watch your favourite movie with her. You always preferred her to anyone else, chose to stay home and try new recipes, rather than go out and she thought that perhaps this thing you felt for her was serious.

And once that knowledge settled inside her, it no longer bothered her. And with acceptance came something else. Something she never thought she had in her. A kind of curiosity of her own.

Obviously, she was flattered to know you had such feelings for her. You were a young, sweet thing, your life was just starting and she… How could she take advantage of you?

Then again, you didn’t make it easy for her. The way young girls did, you flirted boldly, openly and in gestures of sudden bravery. You flaunted yourself to her whenever you got the chance. Wearing skimpy bathing suits and even asking her to fix the strings for you, asking her to go shopping with you and dragging her into lingerie stores, showing her different sets and asking her opinion, wearing short dresses and tight shorts whenever she was around, which happened to be all the time… Asking her to watch scary movies with you in your room, cuddling into her in nothing but your panties and a t-shirt and then asking her to stay when you were too scared to stay alone.

Ugh, you were a tease. She’d feel you wiggle unnecessarily, so you’d “settle” and you’d blush furiously anytime she so much as looked at you. She’d wake up with your back pressed against her front, your ass pressed up against her as you slept happily, and every time you’d pull one of those stunts, she’d feel you chip away at her resolve.

You were so soft, so sweet, such a delicate thing, your skin smooth and flawless under her fingertips. Whenever you’d ask her to stay with you, falling asleep on her shoulder, she couldn’t help but stroke the exposed skin of your bare arms, the length of your thighs, just to feel you. It was a small action, was it not? Done out of curiosity. And it soothed her to be able to get this small thing for herself, since she had promised herself not to take you entirely.

Your last year of high school passed like that, with you parading yourself and eventually Wanda broke. She told herself she’d never make a move on you. It was wrong, but she needed an outlet for her frustration. That’s how she first spent a night thinking of you while she touched herself. Not that thoughts of you hadn’t crossed her mind before, but she always pushed them away. But when she no longer could, that one action broke the dam.

The images of you flooded her mind constantly and she found herself seeking relief in the privacy of her bedroom, imagining she had you to play with. She thought of all the gloriously depraved things she could do to you, the things she could teach you and all the ways she could corrupt you. It would be so sweet.

It got worse as your feelings progressed and she’d often wake to the sounds of your moans in the middle of the night. The first time such a thing happened she rushed to your room, thinking maybe you’re in pain, only to see you sprawled on your bed, legs spread wide and your hand moving furiously in your panties. You thought you were being quiet, that you were being subtle, but honestly, she could sometimes make out the way you called her name as you made yourself cum.

Now, looking in her drawer of toys and realizing what you’d done, she tried to let it go, but she just couldn’t. You went behind her back, sneaked into her bedroom, snooped through her things, used her toys and masturbated on her bed. As much as she was impressed by your boldness and surprised to find that your desire for her went that far, she was furious. You didn’t even have the decency to hide it well! Why didn’t you just wash the toy and put it back? Did you still have it? Ugh, she was angry!

She knew you probably didn’t mean for it to go this far, but she just couldn’t help it. How was she meant to stay away from you, to keep her resolve and refrain from marching down and fucking you senseless, when you did such things? She had to teach you a lesson.

Her fingers clenching over the edge of the drawer, knuckles turning white, Wanda was ready to slam it shut and storm down the stairs, when her eyes landed on a pink remote control. It was for the dildo you had used and she was surprised you hadn’t taken that too, before she realized you probably had no idea it had a vibrating function. Or maybe you hadn’t gotten that far. Who knows? Either way, an idea sparked into her head and she decided to test a theory and if she was right, tonight she’ll teach you a lesson and pay you back for every time you’d teased her, every time you paraded yourself in front of her, every time you tempted her and made her crave you.

In the back of her head, she knew what this decision meant. She knew she wouldn’t be able to stop herself. If she went through with it, she’d go all the way. Closing her eyes and breathing in, she tried to think clearly, but she had reached the end of her restraint, the end of her self-control. She couldn’t pretend that she didn’t want this anymore. She had to have you.

Taking the small remote control, she put it in the pocket of her sweats and she walked down the stairs. She found you prepping the vegetables, just as she asked, your cheeks still flushed, but you tried to act as normal as possible. With a smile, Wanda did the same, starting to make the dough for the homemade pasta and starting up a light conversation with you.

“So, honey, what did you do today?” She asked sweetly.

“Oh you know, just normal things…” You trailed off as your legs squeezed together.

“Yeah? Did you finish the new book I told you about?”

“No, not yet. But almost. I’m so excited to see what happens.” You tried to feign interest, but Wanda knew you. You hadn’t read a page. “What about you, did you have a nice day?”

“Nice isn’t how I’d describe it. But I’m glad to be home.” She responded shortly. “You know, sweetie, why don’t you get the sauce started and leave it on the stove, I’ll watch it while I make the dough and you can sit down. You still look a little flushed.” She suggested and you sighed with relief at her offer, doing as she asked, finishing as quickly as possible and making your way to a chair in the kitchen, sitting down and watching her cook, the way you have so many times before.

Except, as soon as you sat, you realized it was a mistake. The dildo, still nicely nestled inside you, was pressed against the surface of the chair and pushed as deeply as it could go, causing you to let out a small whimper at the feeling of being so full and even with her back to you, Wanda knew that her suspicion was right.

“What was that, dear?” She turned to look at you for a moment, your legs squeezing together so tightly your muscles shook.

“N-nothing…” You stuttered out, a hand gripping the edge of the table.

My, you were so responsive. You must have been close, if you were this worked up. How delightful. Wanda was going to have so much fun with you.

Unaware of how closely you were being watched, or of the wicked plan your stepmother had formulated for you, you started to gently rock on the chair, the movement bringing brief relief to the aching between your legs. But Wanda wasn’t going to let you just fuck yourself right in front of her. If anyone was going to fuck you tonight, it was going to be her.

Reaching into her pocket, she felt around for the buttons of the remote control and she turned it on and let it start at the lowest setting. Your reaction was instantaneous. You gasped, trying to do it quietly and softly, but she heard you none the less.

Feeling the dildo start to vibrate had you stiffen on the chair. God, did your slow grinding press the start button on the device? It was possible. Now you felt the gentle hum of the lowest setting and it drove you crazy. Perhaps with some concentration you could ignore feeling the toy inside you, but you couldn’t contain yourself like this. It was nestled at the deepest parts of you and vibrating against an especially sensitive spot and it had you shaking.

“Wanda, I think I’m going to lie down.” You suddenly said, swallowing hard and preparing yourself to stand.

“Oh, sweetheart!” She gasped when she turned to you. You looked a mess and it was absolutely breath-taking. She always wanted to see you like this. Now that she was so close, she wasn’t going to let you slip away so quickly. “What’s wrong? You seem even more flushed. And your forehead is so hot, baby, maybe you should lie down on the couch, so I can take care of you.” She suggested with concern. “I’ll bring you a cool cloth for your forehead and a glass of water.” She suggested, offering you her hand and guiding you to the couch.

“No, you don’t have to do that, I’ll just lie down upstairs for a bit.” You tried to protest, following her lead on instinct, despite your wish to escape to your room, but she was having none of it.

“But, sweetie, you can barely walk.” She argued, guiding you to the couch. “Look at that, you’re shaking. Lie down here for me, honey. I’ll take care of you.” She suggested, helping you lie down.

She went to grab you a glass of water, just as she promised and, on her way back, she watched you squirm and try to contain the sensations going through your body. When she made you drink at least some of the water, she left the glass on the table and she went to get you a cool cloth for your forehead, but not before sticking her hand in her pocket and increasing the speed of the vibrator.

A loud moan graced her ears just as she did it and she could hardly contain her smirk as she walked back to you.

“Now, honey, you stay here and rest and I’ll go check on dinner and I’ll be right back, ok?” She explained with a soft voice and she stroked your cheek affectionately, basking in the state you were in.

Your cheeks were burning with a mixture of arousal and shyness, your whole body squirming with need, even your hips bucking, when you thought Wanda wasn’t looking, loving the stimulation, yet needing so much more. Fuck, she could play with you like this for hours. If she had it her way, she’d strip you down first, of course, but there was plenty of time for that later. She’d watch you writhe and make you beg to be allowed to cum, push you to admit what you did and then tease you some more as punishment for it. And once you’ve surrendered, she’d make you cum over and over again, until you can’t take anymore. She’ll take your shaking little body upstairs and help you get cleaned up, so she can cuddle you to sleep. But she was getting ahead of herself.

She went to check on the pasta and the sauce you were making, stirring the pots and making sure that it wouldn’t get burned. She often looked at you at the corner of her eye, watching you writhe and, deciding to take pity on you, she clicked the off button on the remote control in her pocket, seeing you instantly settle in both relief and frustration. It was obvious you wanted more, that you needed that orgasm badly, but you didn’t want to get caught and Wanda smirked to herself. She’ll make you beg for an orgasm soon enough.

In the next minutes she let you rest, while she set up the table and finished dinner, not wanting to overwhelm you too much too early. She came over to you carefully, checking to see if you managed to put yourself together and you indeed looked much better. The frustration from the teasing and edging was obvious, but other than that you were holding up quite well and she smiled.

“Hey, honey, how are you feeling?” She asked softly. “Do you think you can come to the dinner table, so we can eat, or should I bring your food here?” She suggested, smiling.

“I’ll come to the table.” You agreed, removing the damp cloth from your forehead and taking her hands, so you could stand.

“Ok, baby, wash your hands and let’s eat.” She smiled softly at you.

Once you settled, poorly hiding a whimper when the dildo was once again pressed into your depths and against your most sensitive spots, you struggled to find topics for a conversation, but Wanda distracted you, telling you about her day and keeping your mind occupied while you ate. It was still hard to keep your urge to grind down on the toy sometimes, especially when Wanda would look at you with those pretty green eyes and swirl the wine in her glass, before sipping it. How could she be so sensual without even trying?

“Wanda, I think I’ll head upstairs. I feel tired.” You tried to excuse yourself after the meal was finished.

“Oh, really?” She said with disappointment in her voice. “You sure? I was thinking we could watch a movie together.” She suggests, pouting at you cutely and melting your heart.

“I don’t know…” You hesitated, wanting to stay, but feeling your walls contract around the dildo inside you and almost making your legs buckle.

“Maybe for a bit?” She offered with hope in her eyes. “You lie down and pick anything you want to watch and I’ll make us some popcorn. If you’re still not feeling well, I’ll help you upstairs.”

You tried to refuse her, you really did, but the truth was, that you could never say “no” to Wanda Maximoff. She was your greatest weakness and you knew you’d do anything she asks, no matter what, so you settled onto the couch, searching through the movie options and finding one that looked promising, while she brought over the big bowl of popcorn she made, sitting down next to you and pulling you into her side, just as she always did, kissing the top of your head affectionately.

You played the movie, trying to distract yourself and reminding yourself that all you had to do is get through the movie with her and then you’ll go to your room and have all the orgasms you wanted. It was just a couple of hours with Wanda.

But you’d barely gotten through the intro, when the vibrator came to life with a sudden buzz and you had to refrain from grinding against the couch at how good it felt. But that’s all the restraint you could show and you quickly realized Wanda was looking at you with concern.

“What’s the matter, sweetie? Is everything all right?”

You barely nodded, pretending to watch, when all you could do was do your best to stay still in Wanda’s hold. God, how did this thing turn on again? How do you stop it, before you have an orgasm, right there, sitting next to the woman you were desperately in love with? Worse! What if she hears the vibration? Could she hear it right now?

It was driving you crazy and holding back became increasingly difficult as time passed, your breathing going more erratic and just when you thought that it will happen, regardless if you wanted to or not, the vibrations suddenly stopped.

“Did you say something, honey?” Wanda turned to you once more, making you realize that you had whined pretty loudly.

“N-no.” You stutter out, shaking your head and she barely contains the smirk forming on her face, before it gives away just how much she’s enjoying this.

She gives you a break, letting you calm down, before she turns on the vibrator again, startling you and this time you look at her, trying to see if she actually noticed, but Wanda had her attention on the TV.

The damned thing was driving you crazy, but you couldn’t help a thought that crept into your mind. Why does it keep going on and off? Was it you? You were sitting pretty still… And then another, more shocking thought sparkled in your mind. Could Wanda? No, that was absurd. Even if she found out you took it, how would she know you still had it inside you? Would she do this on purpose?

As you turned to her, studying her expression, you couldn’t imagine Wanda doing such a thing. But you had to know for sure. So you waited for that moment when you got close, your body starting to lose some of its control and just as you were about to fall off the edge, the toy stopped, leaving you desperate and needy, extremely frustrated and utterly shocked. Did she just put her hand in her pocket? Did she have the remote there?

You had a million questions almost clouding your brain and you had no idea how to ask, no idea how to approach that subject, scared that if you were wrong, you’ll give yourself away, when Wanda suddenly turned to you.

“I see you finally figured it out.” She said in a low, raspy voice, smiling. She was almost predatory with the way she was looking at you, her soft green eyes now full of intensity. “Don’t you know that taking someone else’s things without permission is wrong?” She asked, raising a brow at you expectantly.

“I… Wanda… It’s not…” You tried to say something coherent, putting a little distance between your bodies, but you were in a state of shock and you couldn’t find the right words to explain.

“Not what it looks like?” She finished the sentence for you, scoffing. “I highly doubt that. Or are you going to deny that you snooped through my bedroom and took something that doesn’t belong to you?” She asked sternly, her eyes fixing you.

“I… ” You tried again, the words never coming out. “I didn’t mean to!” You tried, knowing it was a useless protest.

“Well, what did you mean to do, sweetness, hm? Come on, explain it for me.” She challenged again, raising a brow at you impatiently.

She gave you some time to collect whatever was left of your thoughts and she waited for you to say something coherent, but nothing actually came. There was no excuse, and you knew it well.

“Wanda… Please.” You said quietly, not even sure what you were asking of her, just knowing that you couldn’t stand the way she was looking at you, couldn’t stand how disappointed she was.

“Should I tell you what I think happened, hm?” She asked, her tone having that stern edge again. And before you could answer, she continued. “Or are you going to tell me yourself?” She asked again, holding up the remote control that was previously sitting in her pocket. “Do you need a little incentive?” She asked with a predatory grin, a slender finger hovering over the start button. “Maybe another edge or two would loosen your tongue?” She suggested, almost turning the device on.

“Oh my God, Wanda, please, no! Please! I can’t take anymore!” You begged pitifully and her heart melted a little, knowing you’ve probably never been edged. Even now you had your legs squeezed together, your eyes fixed on the remote she was holding.

To be fair, Wanda never intended to be cruel with you. She only wanted to be kind towards you, but you had pushed her buttons today and it had brought out a side of her she never wanted to show you. And you had never earned such treatment from her either, so she found it hard to contain her emotions, but she took a deep breath and tried to soften her features.

“Please, I’ll never do that again!” You pleaded.

“Oh, I know, sweetheart.” She said with surprising gentleness, stroking your cheek affectionately. “I’ll make sure of that. But you’ll have to tell me why you did it.” She explained.

“I can’t…” You tried to protest again, voice shaking. How could you explain that you’re in love with her?

“If you can do it, you should be able to talk about it.” Wanda coaxed.

“Please, let me just go upstairs and I’ll clean everything up and…”

“Oh, no, it’s too late for that now.” Wanda interrupted you, knowing where you were trying to go with that thought. “You don’t get to pretend that nothing happened.” She added with a thoughtful expression. “You see… I tried to pretend that I don’t see the way you act, or your little skimpy outfits, or the way you look at me. I tried to pretend that I don’t hear you calling my name at night, when you touch yourself… I tried to stay away and be a good stepmother, a good wife… And then you go and do something like this… Tell me, Y/N, what should I do with you now, hmm?”

Her words, the way she said them… The admission that she knew of your feelings sent you spiralling all over again and you didn’t even know where to begin. What were you meant to say? What did she intend to do? Was she going to tell your father? God, you hoped she wouldn’t. Not even because you were so afraid of him, but because you were so afraid of losing her. You never wanted to lose her.

“It would be so wrong of me to take you.” Wanda continues, talking more to herself now, her words taking a surprising turn. “So wrong… But you make it so hard for me to resist you.” She confessed. “You’ve been driving me crazy.” She said in a low voice, getting closer to where you stood, cupping your chin with her fingers, so she could make sure that you’ll look at her. “Do you know how hard it has been? Watching you offer yourself to me so shamelessly, listening to your moans at night, hearing you call my name and having to stay away from you…” Wanda’s gaze had darkened, making your pussy throb around the vibrator inside you and leaving you even more needy and helpless in her hold. God, you wanted her! “Do you know how many nights I almost didn’t? Do you know how many nights I had to cum to your filthy little sounds, imagining that it was me, making you feel that good?” She asked, searching your face.

You couldn’t believe the words that kept coming out of her mouth, couldn’t believe that she would ever want the same thing you did, that she would even give you the time of day… You wondered if she really meant it. Yet she kept speaking, her words making the ache between your legs almost unbearable and the need to grind against the vibrator nestled inside you harder and harder to resist. You were ready to combust. Fuck, you were ready to let her do absolutely anything and everything to you, just as long as she finally took you.

“Tell me something, honey…” Her words pulled you from your thoughts. “Do you want Mommy to make you feel good? Is that why you pulled this little stunt? Wanted to get my attention?” She asked, watching your eyes go wide at the mention of the title you used, the one you moaned out when you thought of her. “Oh, yes, I know what you like to call me.” She smirked. “It has a very nice ring to it, when you moan it out, touching yourself.”

You could only whine, too scared to admit how badly you needed her, how much you thought of her, how long you’ve waited for this moment, but Wanda didn’t rush. She held your gaze and she searched your eyes, filled with longing, as she let you think this through. If she was going to do this, she would do it right.

“Wanda… Please?” You uttered in almost despair, not knowing how to ask for what you wanted and not daring to hope that you would be lucky enough to get it.

“Please what, sweetheart? What do you want?” She asked softly, her thumb brushing your cheekbone as a way to soothe you. “You’ll have to use your words.” She coaxed, when she saw the way you took her hand, trying to guide it lower, to where you needed her most.

“Mommy…” You whined once more, trying to plead with her, hoping that it will affect her enough to finally make that final move.

Hearing your pleas, hearing that title pass your lips as you looked at her was easily pulling at her heart strings. It was also making her want to ruin you. She couldn’t deny that it did something to her and despite your poor behaviour today, she wanted to be good to you, wanted to care for you, to shower you with the love and affection you deserved, but she couldn’t make that move, not before you asked. She had no intention to be cruel to you, she just wanted to be sure, that you wanted to take that step with her.

“I know you’re feeling shy, dear, but this matters to me.” She said softly. “I need you to know what this means and I need to know that you want it. For that, you’ll have to use your words.” She clarified again, waiting for her words to sink in, but this time she didn’t have to wait long.

“You know I want this. For years I’ve wanted this, wanted you. And I never thought you’d ever see me, the way I see you, but Wanda, if you do… Please, don’t make me wait anymore. Please?”

As soon as she heard that, she leaned forward, capturing your chin with her fingers and looking deep in your eyes, letting the anticipation build between you, before she slowly connected your lips in a gentle kiss. It’s slow and soft, she moves tentatively, bringing her body closer, so she could let her tongue explore you as well, and she’s pleasantly surprised when your hands grip her top, pulling her on top of you.

Just this small contact had your heart fluttering with joy. You never thought this could be your reality. It felt so good to feel her weight against you. You had waited too long for this. You had spent so many endless nights thinking of just this. But Wanda was worth it. To be able to smell her, to taste her for yourself, you would do it all over again.

Her hands were just as gentle as they ran up and down your neck, or buried themselves in your hair and you couldn’t help but moan and whimper as you desperately tried to get more friction and more attention from her.

She was trying to take it slow, letting herself feel the culmination of her longing and just enjoy the way your lips felt, but it just wasn’t enough. She wanted to feel more of you, feel every part of you against her and explore every millimetre of your gorgeous body. This moment between you was long overdue and you both knew it.

Tentatively, she straddled one of your thighs, pressing her knee against your aching core, hoping to provide some much-needed relief to you both, but it only made you needier and more desperate for Wanda to finish what she started.

“Mommy, please.” You whispered softly, breaking the kiss to look up at her with longing and she instantly understood.

As much as you hoped to hold yourself together, as much as you wanted to prolong this moment, scared that if you opened your eyes, she’ll disappear, you couldn’t help the way your pussy throbbed. You had waited hours, teased and edged and filled to the brim with no relief and you couldn’t stand it a second longer. You needed to cum, or you were going to combust.

Wanda met your gaze, her head spinning from how lost she let herself get in your kisses, only to see you in a similar state. The love and adoration in your eyes, all that pent up longing and your pleas were irresistible. She had to indulge you. Then again, she also had to teach you a lesson and it felt right to use this toy. You had started all this by taking it after all.

With a devilish grin, Wanda reached into her pocket, feeling for the remote control and blindly pressing the start button. She felt the toy come to life with a sudden buzz, the vibrations dull against her knee, but from the way you gasped at the sensation, she could tell you were having a much more intense experience and she let it continue its work, while she took you in a deep kiss.

When it became too hard to keep up with her, your mind too distracted by the pleasure, she started to kiss her way down your body, kissing your neck and helping you grind against her, elated to hear the way you moaned and whimpered from every small touch. God, you were gorgeous.

“Look at you.” She admired you with a soft smile. “I’m about to make you fall apart, while fully dressed and without a single touch to your pussy.” She rasped, her hands massaging your breasts through the fabric of your dress and bra.

Her words made your cheeks burn and pulled another whine from you, yet you couldn’t deny how hot it was, or how badly you wanted it. In fact, they only made you grind against her more, trying to pull her in for another kiss, desperate to feel her against you.

She was right too. You were shaking beneath her, your movements turning more erratic, the closer to your edge you would get, and knowing that once you were there, you wouldn’t be able to stop it.

“Mommy, please I want to cum.’’ You pleaded softly. “Please, don’t stop it this time.”

“So pretty when you beg.” Wanda smirked. “You wanna cum, my darling?”

“Yes, want to cum so badly.”

“If you want to cum, you have to promise Mommy some things first.” Wanda explained, removing a strand of hair from your face. “First: You’ll never take Mommy’s toys again without permission.” She stated sternly. “Is that clear?”

“Yes, Mommy, I promise.” You nodded, body squirming under her intense gaze. God, you were close.

“Second: No more touching yourself. And no more cumming unless you have Mommy’s permission either.” She explained while she trailed soft kisses down your neck. “Understood?”

“Yes! Yes, I understand.” You almost screamed, your hips stuttering against her. “Fuck!”

“Good.’’ She smiled triumphantly. She could probably get you to agree to just about anything right now. “But most importantly, no one else is allowed to see you like this, to touch you like this, to feel you and fuck you and kiss you the way I can. You’re all mine, got it?” She almost growled in your ear, one of her hands tangling in your hair to make you look up at her.

“Yes! God, yes! I don’t want anyone else, Mommy, just you. Please! I just want to be yours. Please? Can I be yours? Can I please cum?” You spoke in a high-pitched tone, your desperation reaching new hights as you heard the possessiveness in her voice.

Wanda could tell you were seconds away from your orgasm and the smile that spread over her face when she reached into her pocket, stopping the vibrator, could only be described as evil. She found it amusing that you would think that she’d let you cum like this, with a toy you had taken from her, instead of getting to feel you for herself.

“Oh my God, no, no no…” You whined, tears prickling your eyes as the sting of denial hit you full force. It was horrible, being so close, yet unable to finish. If Wanda wasn’t right on top of you, you would have reached down, trying to finish it yourself. At the same time the pleasure that burned through you, unyielding and demanding was somehow sweet.

“How does that feel, my sweet girl?” Wanda asked with a calm, self-satisfied tone that had chills run down your spine. Something told you that she would love to do this to you again. “Frustrating, right?”

“Yes.” You whined, as your nails dug into her arms, as the orgasm you had built started to dull down and fade.

“That’s what it felt like, every time you teased me.” She explained with a growl. “That’s what it felt like, to find out you took something of mine without my permission.” She added, as she took down your panties, her eyes zeroing in on the pink vibrator nestled inside you. “I’ll do much worse, if you try something like that again.” She snarled, the threat clear in her voice.

“I wouldn’t Mommy, I promise.” You squirmed under her inquisitive eyes.

“Learned your lesson, huh, my darling?” She smirked, pulling out the dildo as well, discarding it on the floor carelessly, so she can admire your sweet pussy. You were so beautiful like this. Legs spread wide, slick folds on display and your desperate pussy twitching with need and excitement. You were perfect. “Then let me show you how good I can be to you.”

With a smile, she teased her fingers over your sensitive folds, playing with your clit and pulling small moans from you, before she eased her digits inside you. Your tight walls accepted her gladly, fluttering and pulsing around her happily and a string of moans filled her ears. She curled them experimentally, looking for your sweet spot and it didn’t take long to find it, your back arching off the couch in delight.

“Yeah, that’s your spot, isn’t it? Right there.” She emphasized her words, by pressing on it again.

“Yes, right there!” You sighed, back arching as the pleasure inside you started to grow again.

Wanda’s fingers were even better than the toy, stretching you deliciously, as they moved just the way you liked and you couldn’t believe that you had lived so long without getting to experience them.

Her hungry eyes were stuck on the view of her fingers moving in and out of you, your juices sticking to the palm of her hand, that she made sure to press against your clit at each stroke. It was obscene how much you reacted to her, how badly you needed her and you tried to pull her closer, so you’d hide in the crook of her neck, but she wouldn’t let you.

“No need to be embarrassed, darling. Mommy loves to see how good she makes you feel.” She husked, but gave in none the less, wanting to feel you close to her.

She peppered soft kisses on your cheeks and jaw, trailed them down your neck and against your ear as you moaned for her, clawing at her clothed back and it took everything in her not to stretch you out with a third finger. When your walls tightened around her, gripping her hard, she knew you were getting close again, your insatiable little pussy just begging her for more.

“Are you going to cum for me, baby?” She asked sweetly. “Are you going to make a mess all over my fingers?”

“God, yes!” You gasped, trying to pull her impossibly closer.

“Show me.” Wanda husked, claiming your lips in another kiss, nestling even closer to you, pulling your legs around her waist, so she could press against you snugly, almost folding you in half as her fingers worked your G-spot.

The position was surprisingly intimate, your body trapped under Wanda. It felt snug and safe, all your senses surrounded by her. You could smell her perfume, see the curtain of her soft, wavy hair falling around you, taste her as she kissed you, feel her deep inside you as you reached your edge with soft moans of pure pleasure.

When you finally fell over it, she helped you ride the waves of extasy, her fingers never stopping their movement. You were writhing under her, but she held you down effortlessly, until you gave her everything you had to offer and she pulled out of you with a contented grin.

“That’s my good girl.” She praised, lifting up her fingers to inspect them and slowly putting them in her mouth, so she could clean them up. “And so delicious too.” She added happily.

For a moment she contemplated letting you rest, but her own arousal was driving her crazy, the wetness in her panties a stark reminder of how badly she needed some relief. But it wasn’t just that. She hadn’t even properly undressed you yet, hadn’t had a chance to taste you from the source. She wanted to do so many things to you…

“Thank you.” You purred like a happy cat, stretching a little from underneath her.

“Such good manners.” Wanda mused. “Always such a good girl for me.” She smiled, noting the way you beamed proudly at her praise. “Think you can help Mommy undress you?” She asked, waiting for your happy nod of consent and your eager adjustment, so you can help her lift off your dress and discard it.

For a moment you felt a little insecure about yourself, despite the many times you had paraded yourself in front of Wanda, but she didn’t let you dwell on it for too long. She kissed you deeply, her lips never leaving yours, while her hands reached behind you and unclasped your bra, throwing it somewhere behind her, while her hands explored you. Your skin was so soft to her touch, your body responding to every little caress and begging for more.

You were gorgeous in this state and she wanted to show you just how much she truly loved you, wanted to show you how deep her feelings really went, wanted you to know that this meant everything to her. You meant everything to her.

“Can I see you too, please?” You asked shyly, while she massaged your breasts, eyes fixed on them hungrily.

“Of course, darling.” She smiled knowingly, probably realizing how shy you must feel, being the only one naked. “Do you want to do it, or should I?”

“May I?” You practically beamed at her, sitting up in anticipation.

“Of course, sweetness.” Wanda smiled softly, stopping her movements, so she could give you some space.

Undressing Wanda was almost a spiritual experience. Each item of clothing you were able to remove revealed more of her beauty to your adoring gaze and she felt the swell of pride when she watched you take in every curve with admiration. It felt so good to be admired so openly and she allowed you to take your time, to kiss and caress her, as you shed her clothing.

When you unclasped her bra, freeing her breasts, you almost drooled at the sight of them. Perky nipples stood at attention, begging to be worshipped and you barely had time to ask if she’d let you, before you did just that. Capturing each breast in your palms, you swirled your tongue over her nipples, sucking on them gently and smiling when you pulled soft sighs of pleasure from the older woman.

As you finally reached her underwear, lacy, red panties fully capturing your attention, you couldn’t help but gasp, when you found her just as wet as you were.

“Do you like seeing that, honey? Do you like knowing you make me this wet? Do you like knowing that every night I heard you call out to me, I got just as wet, touching myself to the thought of making you mine? Does it excite you, knowing that you caused all this?”

“Yes, Mommy! I always wanted you just like that. Always wanted to know how you would feel, what you would taste like, if I could have you in my mouth.” You confessed, remembering each time you fantasized that Wanda would find you with your hand between your legs and give you exactly what you wanted.

“Well, now that you have me, have a taste.” She nodded happily, helping you take off her panties and spreading her legs, to give you a good view of her soaked folds.

Instead of answering, you just kneeled, slipping off the couch effortlessly and finding your place between her legs. With the sight of her soaked panties and the delicious smell of her reaching your nostrils, you could already feel your mouth water. There was something so erotic about having her above you like this.

Wanda looked as regal as a queen as she let you take her in in all her glory. Darkened, green eyes never looked away from you, as she left everything on display. And by all the gods, she was magnificent. Everything about her was pure perfection and you were happy to stay right there, on your knees, forever, worshipping and admiring her, if it wasn’t for the hand, that soon tangled itself in your hair, pulling you closer to her.

She leaned in, kissing you fully and only pulled away, when you both needed to breathe.

“Don’t make me wait too long.” She said as she leaned back against the couch, the hand in your hair pulling you forward and closer to where she wanted you.

“I wouldn’t dream of it.” You smiled, moving forward on your own and taking a small experimental lick.

Her reaction was instantaneous, her fingers tightening their grip and pulling you all the way, until your mouth was flush against her. She sighed with satisfaction, her legs spreading wider, to give you more room to explore her and by God, she tasted so good. You wanted to devour her whole.

“Yeah, that’s better!” She sighed, her hips canting up against your mouth, as your tongue swirled over her clit. “Just like that, baby.”

Her praise was almost hypnotic, sparking something inside you, an urge to be better than all her other lovers, to show her that you’re worth all this, that you would earn the privilege to be hers. To show her that you would learn what made her feel good, what made her moan out in pleasure, what had her screaming and bucking her hips into your mouth. You’d learn it all and you’ll give it to her, just so she would call you her good girl again.

“Fuck, yes!” She cursed under her breath. “So fucking good with your mouth.”

Her hand in your hair kept you firmly against her, nails scratching at your scalp as Wanda guided you through what she wanted. And she wasn’t shy about it either. The closer she got, the more she used you for her pleasure, her legs planted on your shoulders as she rode you even more.

“Fingers, honey. Put your fingers inside me.” She spoke breathlessly, almost suffocating you with how much she pushed you into her pussy, when she felt you enter her. “Yes, just like that!” She praised. “Such a good girl. Gonna make Mommy cum so hard.”

The prospect of making her cum had your excitement reach new levels and you doubled your efforts, swirling your tongue around her clit in circles that seemed to drive her crazy. You could feel her walls pulse around your fingers, squeezing you and pulling you in, as far as you could go and you knew she wouldn’t last much longer.

Wanda reached her edge with a high-pitched moan, her thighs squeezing around your head and the hand in your hair tightening its hold on you almost painfully, just as she started to fall apart. The orgasm that built in the pit of her stomach spread like a tidal wave, coursing through her entire body as she shook against you.

She could feel your free hand gripping her thigh, trying to keep her steady as you helped her ride it all out. When she did, body slumping on the couch with a happy sigh, she hurried to pull you up and into her embrace. Getting to cum with your mouth and fingers felt so much better than the empty nights she spent with her toys and she knew she wouldn’t be able to give you up, even for a second.

When she was able to recover, she got up, helping you to your feet with a gentle hand.

“Let me take you upstairs, sweetheart.” She suggested. “I believe you had an interest in my collection?”

Her words were full of innuendo and you practically leaped, following her up the stairs and only stopping in front of her bedroom.

“Wanda?” You looked up at her, a little insecure.

“Yes, darling.” She paused, at hearing her name pass your lips, instead of the title you chose to give her.

“Is this…” You tried to ask, but couldn’t find the right words, biting your lips in anticipation. “Does it mean…”

“You mean everything to me, Y/N.” She said reassuringly, clearly understanding what you wanted to ask.

She had spent her whole life looking for love like yours. For someone, who would worship her the way you did. And now that she had it, she couldn’t imagine ever letting you go. Couldn’t imagine ever sharing you with another soul, or letting anyone ever touch you the way she did. As soon as she kissed you, she knew that she will commit to you for good.

“Do you mean it?” You looked at her with hopeful eyes. “Because I…”

“So do I, my darling.” She smiled softly at you, knowing that neither one of you was ready to admit it just yet.

The two of you stood there, in front of her door, for a few moments longer, just smiling at each-other, letting your eyes say the things you couldn’t form into words, before you couldn’t stand the tension any longer.

“May I kiss you again?” You asked a little shyly, fighting the urge to hide into her again.

Wanda’s smile only widened. She opened her door, the soft light from within illuminating the perfectly pristine space, as she pulled you closer to her.

“Come inside, sweetheart and you can do so much more than just kiss.”

______________________________________________________

I just might have to make a part 2 to this fic, because there is just so much left unsaid here... But at least I get to share the beginning with you guys! Let me know what you think!

If you liked this story and you want more, please visit the Masterlist with all my works. Happy reading!

Disclaimer: Image not mine. I'd happily give credit to the owner if I knew who they were :)

[navybrat817]

How often does Dad!Bucky get hit on when he's in the baby aisle grabbing diapers?

A lot, Cia! And you get to see it one day.

The Dad Diaries: Diaper Aisle

Pairing: Dad!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader Summary: You witness a woman flirting with Bucky, but you don't react the way you expect. Word Count: Almost 1.2k Warnings: Fluff, flirting, reflecting, first time dad, slight feels (it's me), parenthood, random woman thirsty for Bucky (we get it), Bucky Barnes (he's a warning and a dad, okay?). A/N: Next part of The Dad Diaries and from your perspective. Hope you lovelies enjoy. ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @firefly-graphics. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

Bucky doesn’t like to make a big deal out of people flirting with him. For starters, he’s a married man and has made it clear that he has no intention of ever stepping out on you. He would never. You are his wife and soulmate, the love of his life, and the mother of his child. You’re all he needs.

Second, he’s unassuming. You tell him regularly how handsome he is, but he isn’t arrogant about his looks and doesn’t think every woman who looks his way has the intention of hitting on him. He may give a polite smile or nod if he catches someone staring, but will immediately divert his attention back to the task at hand, such as getting those diapers for Jamie.

Fatherhood is sexy on him.

“Your Dada is amazing,” you say to Jamie as you wait beside your cart for Bucky to grab the box.

You smile to yourself when a woman nearly runs her cart into the shelving when Bucky walks past. Not that you blame her for staring. With his luscious locks flowing free, his worn jean jacket fitting like it was made for him, and the sweatpants leaving little to the imagination, you would’ve gawked at him, too.

Which you did earlier and were now.

“Excuse me,” the woman calls out loudly, making Bucky pause as he puts the box under his arm. “So sorry to bother you, but would you mind grabbing a jar for me off the top shelf? I would really appreciate it.”

“No problem,” he says, giving you a small smile from across the aisle as he goes to help the woman.

You wait patiently as the lady thanks him with a grin. You get why she wants Bucky close by. Beyond his overall gorgeousness and kindness, he displays a responsible side of himself when he walks through the baby aisle. He never carries himself in a way that says he’s annoyed or inconvenienced by being there. Carefully selecting the diapers and anything else needed shows how attentive he is. And responsible.

You understand the appeal.

Though, you do wish the lady would stop undressing your husband with her eyes. You practically hear her inhale when he’s close enough. He does smell good, but does she have to step into his space?

“This one?” Bucky asks.

The woman has to blink a few times before she responds. “Oh, sorry. The one next to it. You really are too kind,” she answers, sweeping her gaze over him from head to toe as he reaches over for another jar. You have to bite the inside of your cheek when she takes it from his hand. “It’s too bad you can’t help me bring this stuff in when I get home.”

Yeah, it is too bad.

Clearing his throat, Bucky nods in your direction. “Well, my son might miss me if I’m away for too long. And I’ll miss him and my wife.”

The woman goes rigid as she looks your way. “Your wife?”

Bucky smiles from ear to ear when you wave. “Yeah, my wife,” he proudly states, making your heart skip a beat.

Any jealousy or bad feeling you have slips away when you see some of the light leave the woman’s eyes and the sag in her shoulders. It’s almost like seeing her in a different light because you know how you’ve felt since giving birth. At times, you feel less attractive than normal, that your body won’t be the way it used to be. You wonder if Bucky still wants you.

And you want to be seen.

While you don’t know her story, you understand the need to feel wanted and desired. It doesn’t go away when you become a mother. You don’t even know if she is a mother or if she’s in the aisle shopping for a sister, friend, or someone else. Maybe her partner isn’t giving her the attention she needs. Maybe she isn’t with anyone.

Maybe she just needed a win today.

“Take care,” Bucky says politely before he walks toward you, leaving the woman alone to stare after him. “Anything else we need?” He asks once he puts the diapers on the bottom of the cart, giving Jamie a small tickle and making all three of you smile.

“I think we’re good,” you say, glancing down the aisle. You could grab Bucky’s hand and stake your claim as the woman makes eye contact with you, but you give her a small nod and a sympathetic smile instead before you push the cart away. “That was nice of you to help her,” you say once you’re out of sight.

Bucky raises an eyebrow as he glances your way. “I don’t usually say this outright, but I’m pretty sure she was hitting on me.”

“Oh, she was,” you agree.

“Does that bother you?” He asks, brushing a kiss to your temple and making your heart race.

You shake your head as you think about it. “It did at first because it’s only natural to feel that way, but it went away pretty quickly. I have no reason to feel jealous or defensive. If it would’ve been bad or crossed a line, I would’ve stepped in. But you proudly proclaimed that I’m your wife and she backed off right away. And I know you’re coming home with Jamie and I, so why would I let it bother me?” you explain, spotting something soft in his gaze.

Like he’s amazed by you.

“That makes sense,” he says.

“I can only hope that someone like you comes along for her,” you add, your heart going out to the stranger.

The blue of Bucky’s eyes shine a bit brighter when you catch his gaze. “I love you,” he says so tenderly that you feel butterflies in your stomach and heart.

“I love you, too,” you promise before you nudge him. “And you know what? I don’t fault her at all. You know what wearing those pants does to people. It’s like some sort of sexy magic.”

His nose crinkles as he laughs, the sound making a few turn their heads. Once again, you don’t blame them for gawking. “Did you just say ‘sexy magic’ in front of our son? Is that why you like these pants?”

“Oh, yeah. You put a spell on me,” you smirk before you smile gently at your son. “And I’m very lucky for that because now I have you.”

You don’t know it yet, but Bucky will write in his diary to Jamie about how you handled yourself today. How you could’ve stormed over and grabbed him or made a snide comment to the woman, but you didn’t. And that if you felt jealous, even for a moment, you didn’t let it cloud your judgement. You know when to observe and when you need to step in. You know when to lead with your heart.

Just one of the many reasons Bucky Barnes considers himself lucky to call you his wife and the mother of his child.

And no matter how many times he gets hit on in the diaper aisle, he’ll always come home to you.

I adore this family. Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[1-800-cheolie]

baby fever | bakugou headcanons

part 2 part 3

tags: suggestive themes, not proof read, heat in the moment writing, fem reader, mentions of pregnancy, established marriage, they’re pro heroes, crappy writing.

word count: 642

☆ bakugou katsuki. when people hear that name, they say he’s rough, brusque and edgy, a double sided sword. on the other hand, you find him sweet and loving, quite adorable even if he denies it.

☆ you often think a lot about how he would treat your kids in the near future and despite his tough exterior, he’s grown fond of kids.

☆ social media thinks that he's going to be the worst dad to exist if you have kids, you think they’re delusional.

☆ but the moment you realize you know he’s the one for your non-existent kids is when you’re both out on patrol and you find a lost kid. “leave him to me” katsuki grumbles. “go get yer injury healed”

☆ you do as told, conversing with one of the medics, and in the corner of your eye, you spot the child laughing with your husband.

☆ butterflies dance about in your stomach, fluttering vigorously. “he’s going to be a great dad, [hero name].“ the medic says. “I’ve seen the way he looks at you, almost like you held the earth up for him.”

☆ you softly thank her with a smile, beaming with rays of sunshine as you approach your boyfriend. secretly watching him play with the young boy.

☆ “I see you’re both having a great time” you say. katsuki whips his head in surprise, coughing into his fist as if to hide his blush. “has dynamight been nice to you, sweetie?”

☆ the kid jumps up and down in glee, bobbing his head. “mister dynamight is the best! he even gave me a lollipop! but mommy can’t know or she might get upset”

☆ he sheers away in embarrassment. “thought it might cheer him up or somet’ing” you press your lips against his cheek, praising him for his work. the kid pretends to gag and you both chuckle, he’s an adorable little guy.

☆ “aoi!” a woman calls out and the boy goes running to his mother, “oh my god, I can’t thank you enough.” you smile at her and tell her it’s your job as heroes, waving back to aoi as they leave.

☆ “having a kid doesn’t sound so bad. I wouldn’t mind waking up to our baby in your arms. It’s adorable and sexy.”

☆ he pauses. freezing in place. did he hear you right? our baby. him being a dad? sexy? fuck. you were definitely going to be the death of him.

☆ “[hero name]!” he calls out. you wink at him, skipping off to the agency. “baby! you can’t just say that and leave me like this!” he groans. having a hard on in the middle of work was going to be difficult to explain.

☆ the next morning, you saw the media, snorting at the headline. PRO HERO DYNAMIGHT SEEN SMILING WITH A KID. COULD WE POSSIBLY BE SEEING POTENTIAL FATHER MATERIAL?

☆ you yelp in surprise, dropping your phone on the side of the bed at the sudden touch of your boyfriend. “c’mere” he rasps. “why the fuck are you up s’early? it’s only 8am, go back t’sleep”

☆ “wanted to check the time is all. do you need something?” you ask.

☆ he shakes his head and lays you atop of him, grinding against your ass as a grin paints his lips, canines showing. “only thing I need is to fill you up to the brim and pump you full of my cum.”

☆ “katsuki! It’s only 8am!” you repeat his words. they fall deaf on his ears.

☆ next thing you know, you’re holding a test in your hand, double lines are present as a smug katsuki smirks at you. what a little shit.

[teenytinyecho]

Yandere! Cheerleader and Football Player Headcanons

Pairing: F! OC x GN! Reader x M! OC

Warnings: violence, weird behaviors in general

A/N: hello all! This is a more in depth headcanons about my yandere couple, Lana and Jake! I will open request and asks about them after posting this so please send anything you want for me to answer :)

Lana Seymour

BACKGROUND

‌Lana came from a rich and powerful family, they're considered new money. Her father's tech business started to gain momentum when she's only five years old. Because of this she rarely sees her father home.

‌Her mother was a stay at home mom before the business went successful. But after that, she got busy with charities and being a socialite—essentially helping to widen her father's connection.

‌Lana was already a spoiled child from the beginning, usually dictating around the house on what others should do if her parents aren't home. She dislikes slow people, and even worse those who deny her things that she wanted. With one phone call to her parents she could fire anyone working in the house. Why would Lana even lie to her parents about the maid stealing her jewelries anyway?

‌With her parents becoming more absent and only trusting her words, Lana learns to be more cunning and only striking when she really needs too. Although sometimes setbacks like her impatience and ego can ruin her plan.

‌The first time she met you was when she got grouped in with a bunch of nobodies for a group project. Others try to get her attention by flattering her. And you did too! But you only complemented her hair once and that's it. You continued to try to get work done while others were busy kissing her ass, and she likes that just a little bit.

‌You were nice but cordial, never really getting to close to her and keeping a distance. Lana doesn't know why because you're so boring and bland! You're literally wearing an atrocious outfit choice that could make her gag if her friends are wearing it. But she doesn't really mind it on you, really she thinks it suits you.

‌The project in Lana's mind went well (only because she offered to help since only you and her were the ones she thinks are capable of doing it) and after you all present your work, you actually thanked her! By giving her...a small, ugly keychain.

‌Really, Lana sometimes can't help control her faces and she did make a disgusted one seeing the ugly clay dog in her hand. But when you said that you made it yourself and only for her? That made Lana go crazy to say the least.

‌Never in her life did she received something handmade. Only the luxurious and high-end items gifted from her friends and family. And when you gave her this? Her heart skipped a beat, her hands turned sweaty, and her cheeks started to get warm. That's when she knew that you were something special to her.

PERSONALITY

‌Like I've said before, Lana is more or less like Regina George from Mean Girls. I would say that the difference between Lana and Regina is Lana I would say is more of a social butterfly. Sure she's only talking to the people she thinks are worthy of her time but she likes to keep them close if she ever needs them. Only a few people actually had a bad time with her and that's because she fiercely wants to keep her perfect reputation.

‌A bit of a control freak. Everything needs to fit her standards. She already has lots of control since she was young and no one ever denied her of anything so she needs to control every aspects of her life. And maye yours.

‌She's very hardworking for her passion. She lead her cheerleading team to many wins and trophies. She's also very serious about school and is already set up to enter one of the most prestigious universities in the country. Of course, you're coming with her if you even show her an ounce of interest to her or Jake.

‌She's very aware that people are only trying to use her (except for you and Jake) and that's why she sometimes tends to think other people are not that serious for her. Sure, she'll be friendly towards one girl but Lana honestly doesn't really care enough to know anything besides her name. Any information will be thrown out of her mind after the girl goes away anyway.

TENDENCIES

‌She's very nice and touchy with you, but not to the point of discomfort. She might touch your face or hair a bit longer than usual but she'll back away if she notices any suspicion on your face.

‌Already knows all of your information. Where you live, your phone number, your phone password, likes and dislikes—everything she needs to know for the future where the three of you lives happy together.

‌She will always keep an eye for you. Especially pesky people she deems not worthy of your time. Her work's is slightly cut when she realized you never really had a best friend in school, so that made her really happy.

‌When you're closer, Lana will try to get to sleepover at your place. She'll whine and pout cutely and tries to even offer you to stay at her house on the weekends. She's just trying to expand her collection of trinkets from you. So far, the most precious thing she owns is your favorite shirt that you forgot when you're changing from gym class. She likes to wear it with a smile on her face when she's at home, working on her homework.

‌Overall this girl is in love and obsessed with you, but she is trying to be respectful while removing any harm from you from a distance.

Jake Savile

BACKGROUND

‌Jake's family is old money. They own many hotel chains that existed before his mother was even alive. His family dynamics is not perfect, he knows his mother and father only married for business so he doesn't really expects them to love him like a normal parent does.

‌That doesn't make him to act spoiled though. He's trained to hold the family's reputation since he was young, never acting up or humiliating his family name. He's a blank doll that only smiles politely when meeting other esteemed families.

‌He does like watching interesting things. Observing his parents fighting, his cousins bullying a maid, anything that catches his attention he will watch with a hard stare.

‌He's basically a freak that likes to observe things that catch his interest, and when someone catches him in the act—he'll only smile and walk away like nothing happened. Who's going to believe that Mrs. Savile's youngest son was only watching when his cousin pushed someone off the stairs?

‌Once he got into high school, he felt a little free than he is at home. He likes to do sports so he joined the football team. Although his parents were apprehensive at first, that quickly changed when he started to get more wins for the school and people in town started to talk more about him.

‌He started to notice you after he dated Lana in freshmen year. She'll tell him stories about you that might freak any normal person, but he'll only nod and listen with an interested gaze. He's curios to say the least the more Lana talks about you and the chance came when he's faced with you when you're interviewing him for the school newspapers.

‌He was...disappointed to say the least. You were the one Lana's been boasting about? You, who look so boring that you might blend with a crowd seamlessly. He hides his disappointment with a polite smile as you asked him questions about the state championship that the school won.

‌You were nice and that's about it. Nothing really made him interested in you. But he had to admit he saw a few things that perked up his attention every now and then.

‌He really thought you're only acting nice to Lana because you wanted to use her. But that quickly changed when he saw you confronting one of the members of your club about asking inappropriate questions to Lana.

‌Jake had a joint interview with Lana so you had a plus one to help record the interview and also ask questions. He lets out a small scoff when he saw who's sitting besides you, he knows the boy had issues with Lana so he's not surprised when he started asking inappropriate questions not even about the competition that they've won.

‌He noticed your laid back nature turned more tense the more he asked questions. And after the interview was done, Jake was grabbing his bag from the locker room when he stumbled upon the two of you in a heated argument.

‌He's surprised at how you defended Lana strongly. He thought you're only tolerating her to be honest, but he quickly changed his mind when he saw you snap at the boy and slamming your locker shut. With one last glare, he saw you walking away with muttered curses.

‌He might stay with you for a while. Maybe Lana did have a point about you being special. But Jake's going to take this slow and he'll be sure to observe you all the time to make up his mind.

PERSONALITY

‌Jake is actually a nice to everyone. He's basically Lana without the mindset of everyone is beneath them. He's trained to keep his family's reputation so he's learned to be polite and play nice to everyone.

‌More calm and controlled than Lana is, but he can get angry or annoyed by people who are kissing his ass. He knows straight away if people are trying to get close to him to use him, but sometimes he'll let them go on for a while to see if something interesting happens.

‌Very caring and protective about the people he loves. Lana is currently number one in his list (you're slowly getting on top though) but he knows Lana can handle problems by herself so he's usually hanging around in the background as support.

‌Has a more nastier side than Lana is. He's from old money with family members backstabbing anyone to get ahead of each other. He's learned this from his parents and siblings, watching from the side and taking notes on how he can do it better. If he has any pesky problems, especially people, he has connections and the money to make it all disappear.

TENDENCIES

‌He'll always know what's going on in your life. You'd never see him for three days straight and then he's asking your trip to the mall. And when you asked how'd he know about it, he'll just shrug and smile before giving you a lie.

‌Likes to help you with a lot of things. He'll offer you to carry your bag after school when you're hanging out, maybe even sneak a peek on what's inside the bag. He's curious and likes to admire the trinkets on your bag like keychains and pins. Maybe he'll even buy the three of you something to match together.

‌Very motherly? He likes to take care of you and make sure you're staying healthy. Buys you snacks and drinks, maybe even carrying extra medicines for you. He will glare at you and poke your sides when you skip a meal.

‌No one will know he's obsessed with you because he's really good at pretending. But the mask will crack every now and then, especially when you're getting too close to someone. He knows you don't have any friends, so why are you being touchy with someone he's never seen you interact with?

‌Rest assured he will try to intimidate anyone. He'll never get his own hands dirty on his first try though. Like I've said he has connections and he will use it first, and when that's not working? That's when he takes off his goody two shoes mask and just go wild.

[pekoehoneyncream]

Colonel König Headcanons

Part One!

Words: 400~

TW: None (sfw)

Part Two

Same drill as with Price, bit too many headcanons to post in one go, so we're splitting it into two.

Enjoy!

König prefers coffee over tea. His favourite drink is “Kaffee Verkehrt” which means ‘upside-down’, it's a popular specialty coffee in Austria that has more milk than coffee and is served in a tall glass.

He takes his normal coffee with lots of cream, but no sugar. He likes the sweet rich taste that whole and heavy cream has over the more typical half-and-half, he also likes that he can use less of it and still make his coffee taste creamy.

When asked how tall he is König answers 208 centimetres, and if they ask what that is in feet, he lies and says 6’8. He did not like the way people snickered when he said 6’9, so he no longer says it. No one's called him on it yet and he prays that no one ever does. 

Carries around multiple handkerchiefs. He handwashes them and keeps them clean. His mother thinks one-use tissues are a rich-man’s idiocy, and so does he.

Doesn't like being asked about his past or his family, but he'll sometimes mention his mother or an ‘Uncle Alexi' when giving advice or talking about how he learned something.

Grew up poor. Not Charlie & Chocolate Factory ‘there's only one bed and we all share it’ poor, but needing to be mindful of money, and make everything last as long as it can, repurposing things, collecting coupons, trading with neighbours, paying with meals or labour where you can. That kinda thing.

Was raised as an only child by his widowed mother. Big Momma's boy. Or Mutter's boy, in König's case. And his mother raised him right! All the aunties around their neighbourhood knew him as “Annika’s polite young man”. Annika never had to worry what the neighbours would think.

König still calls his mother every week and gets Care-Packages from her frequently. Anytime Annika finds something she thinks he'll like she sends it over, alongside a bottle of his favourite jam, and some cookies, and a new handkerchief, and etc, and etc. Every phone call includes König being asked if he's taking care of himself, when he's getting married, and if he's sent back this or that container yet. 

König sends a good two-thirds of his paycheck back home to his mother. He doesn’t need much as he's often living out of a duffle bag when on missions, and he likes his mutter to be able to live a good life without worrying about money.

There we go! I hope you enjoyed it!

I was thinking I'd post part two of Price's headcanons tomorrow, then a poll for whose headcanons to post next the day after that, then part one the winner's headcanons, then part two of König's headcanons. Etc and so on. You see how I've planned this out.

As always if there's anything you want me to write about please let me know, my ask box is Open!

PekoeHoneynCream's Masterlist

[cameronspecial]

You Are Going To Be My Entertainment, Baby

Pairing: Frat!Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings: N/A

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 0.5K

Summary: With Rafe at work, Y/N needs a way of entertaining herself.

Masterlist

With Asher’s birth, Rafe took six months off from work. Being the son of the boss helps make that possible. However, today, he got called in because someone royally screwed up and they can’t find a file he made before going on paternity leave. Y/N insisted that he goes in. He has been by her side for three months already and she can handle taking care of their son for one day by herself. One thing she didn’t account for is the boredom of being the only adult in the house. Between the crying and the taking care of Asher, there are moments of silence when the mother and son stare at each other. The TV plays in the background as the three-month-old rests on her bent thighs. His tiny hands are wrapped around her fingers. She moves her fingers around and makes playful noises to get a smile out of the babe. The laughter of her son pops an idea in her mind. “You are going to be my entertainment, Baby,” she whispers to the small child. 

——

Rafe sits back in his office chair with a sigh. His eyes glance at the time on his laptop screen. 1 PM. It is way later than when he was planning on getting home. He thought it would take him an hour tops to get done what he needed to do, but people kept coming in with requests only he could fulfill. All he wants is to get back to his wife and son. He could just go home and ignore the employees' needs. He is their boss on paternity leave after all, yet he felt a little bad for taking so long off of work. He is about to text Y/N that he is going to be a little while longer when he notices she already sent him a text. He opens the messages app to find a video waiting for him. He presses play. His wife’s singing fills the air as his son appears on screen. He can see her frame standing behind the baby, except her head is cut off by the camera angle. She is holding Asher up by the waist. Her hands cause the giggling baby to wiggle as she makes him dance while she sings. The video cuts to Asher in a different outfit and she sings a different song. This pattern continues for about fifteen more seconds before the video ends. 

He exits the video and is about to respond when he notices she sent him a picture. Asher’s face is in a giggle and it warms the father’s heart. The next photo sent is one with pure confusion written on his face. A slew of photos follows. All of this gets a smile out of the father. Once the texts stop, he takes the opportunity to call his wife. “I see you are occupying yourself while I am away,” he teases. Y/N holds the phone between her ear and shoulder as she rests her sleeping son in his crib. “I did. He was just looking up at me with big eyes, telling me that he wanted to put on a show for his daddy,” she mutters. Rafe chuckles, “I can see that. I’m sorry I’m taking so long. I’ll be home soon.” “It’s okay, Rafe. Take your time. I seem to be pretty good at finding ways to entertain myself.” 

Taglist: @winterrrnight @loves0phelia @thelomlisrafecameron @wickedlovely121 @thepatriarchykeychain @drewsmusee @starkowswife @maybankslover @forstarkey @loving-and-dreaming

[topguncortez]

Maybe blurb from crying prompt idk if this would be a hide or hold maybe both? But the reader holds her emotions in during a family thing because she's the oldest sibling and she feels like she has to be strong because that's how her family was raised and then she gets a moment and they tell her to stop being strong and that it's okay to let it out. I'm thinking either Bradley or Jake?

Hold My Hand - J. Seresin x Reader

synopsis: you get a phone call that no child ever wants to get, and as the "rock" of the family, you aren't allowed to break.

warnings: parental death, trauma, parental abandonment, incorrect medical jargon, mental abuse, grief, depression

note: I know this was supposed to only be a blurb, but I started writing and I couldn't stop. These past 16 days have been hell and there was something about writing this that just felt so freeing, like the cloud hanging over me has finally been lifted.

it had felt like a lifetime had passed, but in reality, it had only been 10 days.

10 days since that frightening phone call on that cold January day.

10 days since your mother called you, sound incoherent on the phone but you managed to gather the gist of it.

10 days since you had rushed out of your house, your hair half done, your husband chasing after you like you had lost your mind.

10 days since your father so bravely rushed into a burning building, saving other children and leaving you, your siblings and your mother behind.

You were angry, at first. Angry at the world for allowing this to happen. Angry at your father for playing superman when he was just a regular man. Angry at the other people standing around who didn’t have the same courage to run into the fire instead of standing by and yelling at your father to turn back. Angry that this was going to be the end; that your mother would be a widow at a young age, your youngest sisters wouldn’t have their father to walk them down the aisle, your children wouldn’t ever have another “grandpa day”, that you’d never get another hug and an “i love you” from your father again.

You wanted to cry. You wanted to shut out the world, force the cameras away, force the sorrowful looks from others away, force the heavy weight of your heart onto someone else.

But you couldn't. You had to be the strong one. For your mother. For your siblings. For your own children.

Jake had been watching you like a hawk since you had gotten that phone call. The morning started out like any other morning, with the two of you waking up before the sun was in the sky, making sure you had enough time to do a quick at-home workout and a run. You had been working on packing the kids' lunches when you got that call. He had to pry the keys out of your hands, telling you that your mother didn't need you and your father in the hospital.

Jake had eyed you the whole drive, noticing the redness and the unshed tears in your eyes. The way that you clutched the dainty silver cross around your neck between your fingers. The way that you sniffled every so often, trying to hold back the tears. But the second you stepped into the hospital, seeing the distressing look on your mother's face and the waiting room full of fellow firemen, you rolled your shoulders back and pushed back your own sadness and grief.

Those 10 days had been the best and worst of your life. You hardly left the hospital, unless Jake was physically forcing you to leave. You hardly ate, hardly slept, hardly took care of yourself. Your mind was so worried about everyone else except yourself. For 9 days, you had believed that maybe, just maybe, your father would pull through. But that all came crashing down on day 10, when your father's brain had swelled and his doctor's pronounced him brain dead.

"Y/N," Your mother had spoke, looking over at you as the doctor stood in front of your family. Jake shifted in his seat, putting his hand on your thigh, "You need to do it."

"What?"

"No," You and Jake spoke at the same time.

Your mother shook her head, "I can't be the one. . .," Tears clogged her throat, "I can't be the one who takes him-"

Jake scoffed, sitting up straight in his chair, his grip tightening on your thigh, "And you want your daughter to-"

"Jake," You sighed. There was no use in fighting. After all, you were the eldest. You knew eventually you would be the one who gets stuck making the medical choices for your parents. You just assumed you'd have more time to prepare. You rolled your shoulders back and looked at the doctor, "What do I need to sign?"

"It was such a lovely service," Your aunt Marjorie said, patting Jake's hand as he spoke to him. It was true, you had done a fantastic job planning a funeral for your father, all by yourself. Jake had helped you the best that he could, going with you to pick out a casket and a grave plot and music and flowers, "That Y/N was always Lee's favorite."

"I know," Jake gave Aunt Marjorie his best gentleman smile, the one that made his dimple pop out, "She's a special girl."

"Oh and how brave she was standing in front of everyone and speaking?" Aunt Marjorie placed her hand on her heart. Jake nodded his head, wishing that he could be anywhere else than in a conversation with Aunt Marjorie, "And that Miranda," Aunt Marjorie scoffed, looking over at where your mother sat stoic on the couch, "Looks like she's going to be the next to go."

Jake clenched his jaw, pulling his eyes away from your mother. He had his own thoughts and feelings about her, ones that he had shared with you one night during a heated fight.

"She has abandoned you!" Jake yelled, as you angrily pulled the blankets back on the bed. You were exhausted and just wanted to sleep in your bed for one night. You had managed to get your mother to stay with your father for the night, which was like pulling teeth, "You need her to be the parent and she's not."

"She is grieving too, Jake," You sighed.

"And you're not!?"

"I am," You ran a hand down your face, "I just handle it differently. I've always been the strong rock. The one who doesn't cry. The one who holds others when they cry," You sat down on the bed, your body heavy with exhaustion.

"And I know that, baby," Jake rounded the bed, and sat down beside you. He grabbed your hand, holding it in his own, "You are strong. You are incredibly fucking strong. . . but you shouldn't have to be the strong one right now. You shouldn't be the one pulling all nighters by your dad's side. You shouldn't be the one making medical decisions on your father's behalf. Even though you are an adult. . . Y/N, baby, you're still his child. Your mother should-"

"I don't want to have this conversation anymore," You pulled your hand away from Jake, "My mom isn't well, and she needs me to help her-"

"Bullshit," Jake scoffed, "She is abandoning you and you know it."

You clenched your jaw, holding back the anger radiating in your body. Jake held a tiny bit of hope that maybe, just maybe you'd lash out at him. That you'd show some type of emotion after being a near zombie these past 8 days. But instead, you stood up quietly and left the room, choosing to go sleep in your son's room instead.

Jake had drown out Aunt Marjorie's talking, his eyes landing on you across the room. You had opened up your home to your family, your father's fire crew, Jake's squad and friends for a meal and drinks following the funeral. You had done a great job at not falling apart during the service or the burial, but Jake could tell that the rope was starting to fray. And right now, it was about to snap as you were talking animatedly with your sister across the room in a small alcove.

"Hey, Aunt Marjorie," Jake turned back to look at the 80 year old woman, "It was lovely catching up with you, but I need to go help Y/N with something. We should do coffee some time."

"Oh yes, that'd be-"

"Great, see you later," Jake quickly made his way over to you, not bothering to hear the rest of Aunt Marjorie's response.

The last thing you wanted to do in a houseful of guests from your father's funeral, was get into an argument with your sister, but here you were. Claire was the baby of the family, the one who got away with the most. Your relationship with Claire was rocky, as the line between sister and mother-figure had gotten crossed while you were growing up. You wanted what was best for Claire, and sometimes that required extra tough love and parenting.

"You are high!" You exclaimed.

"I am not," Claire's voice was slightly slurred. Jake's nose scrunched up as he walked into the room, smelling the distinct scent of marijuana.

"My whole damn shed smells like marijuana, Claire," You crossed your arms over your chest, "This isn't like you. What is going on? Talk to me."

"Oh god," Claire rolled her eyes, "Here she goes again. Acting like my mother!"

"Well!" You scoffed, throwing your arms in the air. Jake stood behind you, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder. In the past couple days, you had shrugged off any sort of comfort that Jake offered you, but now, you welcomed it, "You smoked a joint before you walked into dad's funeral! Smoked another one in my shed, where your niece and nephew play. And don't even get me started on how you reeked like vod-"

"Y/N," Your mother's voice filled the air, making all three of you look towards her, "Let's not do this now."

"No," You shook your head, "Let's do this now. Your daughter is high. She smoked up in my garage and then walked into my house smelling like a dispensary."

Your mom looked over at your sister and then back at you. You felt a pang in your chest as you watched her silently side with your sister. The familiar burning sensation of tears prickled at your eyes and nose.

"She's grieving," Your mother simply answered.

You scoffed, "And who isn't?"

"Y/N,"

"Forget it," You shook your head, "It's nothing, it's fine. It's always fucking fine."

For the rest of the afternoon, you made yourself busy, staying far away from your mother and sister. Jake remained within arms reach of you, his presence comforting and not overbearing. You had finally sat down, and managed to get something in your stomach. It must've been evident on your face, but the guests had only said a couple words to you before going on their way. It took nearly four hours, but all the guests had left, filling your house with a silence you hadn't heard in nearly 10 days.

Jake had taken the burden of cleaning everything up, while you sat on the back porch, watching the sunset with a glass of wine in your hand. The cool San Diego winter breeze felt nice against your heated skin.

"The house is finally, back to normal," Jake announced as he walked out onto the back porch. Natasha had gratefully volunteered to take your children for the night, so you and Jake could decompress.

"Thank you, daddy," You smiled sweetly at him, as he sat down next to you on the porch swing.

"Of course, baby," He said, and held out a white gift box, "Someone left this for you."

You furrowed your eyebrows, taking the box from him and lifting the lid. Your breath caught in your throat as you lifted the small, gold pocket watch from the box.

"Y/N," Jake said softly.

You looked up at him with tears in your eyes, "I always wanted this," You ran your hand over the engraved hummingbird on the gold casing, "It was from my grandfather's jewelry store and it quit working. My dad said he was going to get it fixed and give it to me as a wedding gift, but he lost it. . . I-I don't know-"

"Well, does it work?" Jake asked.

You swallowed, opening the face of the watch open. To your surprise, it did work. The second hand ticked around in perfect time as the watch seemed to already be set to the correct time. The beautiful watch had a colorful humming bird painted onto the face in the middle of the black Roman numeral numbers, and gold watch hands.

"It's perf- oh, c'mon," You cursed, as the watch stopped ticking. You tapped the glass face a couple of times, trying to maybe, just maybe get it up and ticking, "C'mon! You just. . . worked! C'mon!"

"Baby," Jake spoke, gently placing his hand on your wrist.

"No! It has to work! It has to!"

"Baby, it's okay," Jake assured you, "It's o-"

"Nothing is okay!" You snapped, looking up at him as the tears had finally escaped your eyes, "Nothing about any of this is okay!" You pushed yourself up from the porch swing, rushing to the edge of the patio and throwing the watching across the yard with a scream. Jake closed his eyes as loud sobs escaped from your lugs, as the grief had finally seemed to rush to you.

He stood up from the porch swing and enveloped you in his arms. You sagged against him, feeling his arms tighten around you to be able to hold you up. Jake hushed you, placing a hand on the back of your head, and his chin on the top.

"Let it out, baby," Jake encouraged you, running a hand over your hair, "Let it all out, baby."

You weren't sure how long you stood there in Jake's arms and cried, but he eventually picked you up, after feeling your legs grow weak. He carried you through the house, to your shared bedroom, sitting you down gently on the bed. You didn't even need to tell him what to do as he moved through the bedroom with familiarity, grabbing you nightgown, taking you out of your dress, washing the make-up from your face and applying your moisturizer.

"What do you need from me, baby?" Jake asked, as he kneeled in front of you, sliding your socks on your feet.

"I don't know," Your voice was raspy as you looked at him confused, "I've never. . . I've never felt-"

"I know," Jake nodded his head, "I know you haven't, and it can be scary the first time you just. . . lose it all." Jake could remember the first time he had ever broken down like you had. It was terrifying as he cried and destroyed the things around him. It felt like it was never going to end as one thing after another had set him off, until he was on the ground in the fetal position, withering, "But it will all be okay. I'm here to help you. Let me help you."

You nodded your head, tears springing to your eyes again. Jake cooed, and pulled you into his arms again as the tears fell down your cheeks.

taglist: @desert-fern @mygyn @cherrycola27 @sio-ina-bottle @seitmai @topgun-imagines @bradleybeachbabe @na-ta-sh-aa @startrekfangirl2233 @xoxabs88xox @atarmychick007 @lunamoonbby @sophiaslastbraincell @bradswolfe @fandom-princess-forevermore @thedroneranger @angelbabyange @dempy @lovelywiseprincess @krismdavis @eternallyvenus @dakotakazansky @pono-pura-vida @starberryhorse @daggersquadphantom @gspenc @poppyalice2001 @els-marvelvsp @nyx2021 @frazie99 @t0kyoreveng3rs @kmc1989 @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @malindacath @badasspizzalover @justenoughmadnesss @sagittarius-flowerchild @hardballoonlove @harrysgothicbitch @hookslove1592 @yujibubs @noonenuts @marvellouscroissant

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[cinnamonest]

I do want to also continue my primary momcon storyline at one point, but with the recent delinquent/bully Ajax posts I am now contemplating modern small town au delinquent Ajax but instead of student/classmate it's momcon…

Poor single mom who is already judged and ostracized by the small town community for being a single mom who had her baby way too young, unmarried, and with a deadbeat at that, made so much worse by the fact that your precious baby boy is a notorious problem child, treated as a menace and threat to the entire town. Hearing people mutter about how that's what happens when some girl that can't keep her legs shut has a kid with no father, how the whole household is messed up in the head, how his lack of inhibition must be hereditary.

Everyone knows him, and by extension, everyone knows you. Who you are, what your marital status is, the fact that you’re the mother of the town menace. You were hoping to live quietly, avoiding negative judgement as much as possible, but unfortunately, that proves not doable when your son is constantly drawing attention to himself in the worst of ways.

You’re always profusely apologizing whenever you get called to the school, bowing your head and squeezing your eyes shut as you promise for the umpteenth time that you'll talk with him and that it won't happen again, unable to look the faculty in the eye, knowing from experience how much their disdainful, judgmental glares hurt. Knowing what they're thinking in their heads even if they don't say it out loud, what they probably say to each other once you leave. How it's your fault, how you have no control over your child.

Or that one line that still hurts you to think about, that time you overheard two other moms with kids on the playground mutter about how they do this or that with their children, or how they would never have a kid without a present father — or else they turn out like that kid…

You were told that once before to your face, back when he was little — that you needed to hurry up and find a step father for him, or else he'll become a bad kid — because he's a boy and everyone knows boys don't obey their mothers the way they do fathers, you know? Sure they love them and all, but once he gets older he's going to start seeing you as small and weak, socialized by other boys and culture into feeling superior to you, and everyone knows that turns into blatant disregard for your authority.

But it's because of him that you can't — you tried, but he always drove away every man you dated, always reacted very badly whenever you got a new boyfriend, being mean and hitting and kicking and setting up cruel pranks and making the man miserable until he told you he couldn't do it anymore and left you alone again. Eventually it gets to be too much for you to handle, and you resign yourself to give up for now, maybe try again when he’s older and mature enough to have a serious discussion on the matter.

Or maybe wait until he’s grown and moved out — if that ever happens, seeing as when you bring up the future, he insists that he’ll stay here and take care of you, says I could never go off somewhere and leave you here by yourself, Mama.

Regardless, you do try and work with him, get him to behave better, but you just can’t. It’s incredibly frustrating. Everything you say goes in one ear, out the other (maybe those people had a point when they said he wouldn't respect your authority). You fuss at him as you wrap the little band-aids all over each of his fingers where they’re scraped up from the fight of the day, but he just smiles, seems to not really be paying any attention, just happy to have your attention and see you worrying over him.

He always dismisses you with ease, promising you he’ll do better and won’t beat anyone up again, but you can very easily tell he doesn’t really mean it at all. And his actions follow suit — you often get a phone call from the school the very next day.

He doesn't really have friends anyway, your attempts to get him to socialize with other kids always ended up leading to fights instead. But that's okay, he doesn't need friends, he says, he has his Mama.

You do feel like it's your fault. Why did he become so violent? Surely you did something wrong. But at the same time, you don't feel like you did anything bad to him, because if nothing else, Ajax is ferociously defensive of you.

You lose count of how many times, after being called in about yet another fight, your son proudly tells you he was defending your honor — yes, he may have cracked that boy's skull open against the brick wall of the building, but he only did it because that bastard had the nerve to call his Mama a whore, so he deserved to have his face disfigured like that. Yes, he may have put three kids in the hospital, but only because they were doing the thing teen boys do where they joke about fucking someone's mom, and he couldn't stand for that, he had to teach them a lesson so they think twice before doing that again. And it's true that one time he did stab someone, he'll confess to that, but it was because that guy spread rumors that his Mama was hooking to make money, and he couldn't stand for that.

This becomes a very well-known thing with him, which creates a bit of a conundrum — on one hand, most people learn to shut up about you if there's even a possibility he's within earshot. However, some of the other rowdy, bully-type boys know that talking about Mama is like his berserk-button, a guaranteed way to get a reaction out of him, so they go out of their way to set him off, believing they can just run away before he can get to them. Usually they stop once they get proven wrong about being able to run and get beaten up badly enough, but there's always some kid dumb enough to try, thus the violence is endless.

Not to mention those cases are worse. Normal fights get a visit to the nurse, but if the motive involves you, he's far more violent. The thankfully few, but nonetheless increasing number of times you had to pick him up from jail were almost all related to those fights in particular, that got so out of hand they warranted a teacher or bystander calling for help. Not to mention he's not at all hesitant to hunt offenders down in town to hurt them, away from the school authorities (who are always keeping an eye on him), so he'll get more punches in before a townsperson notices and calls for help.

And much like the school faculty, the law enforcement always gives you these awful, hurtful looks of disdain, a condescending tone in their voices when they ask if you're here to get your kid again and sighing when you nod your head. A few have the nerve to tell you that you really need to do something or else it's only a matter of time before he does something you can't just bail him out of.

And he's always so cheerful when you do come get him. A bit sheepish, apologizes for the inconvenience of you having to drive out here to come get him (not for the act that got him put there in the first place), but otherwise very smiley and touchy and grateful.

Very, very touchy. He's always been like that. He was a cuddly kid, always lifting his arms up in a gesture to be picked up, always clinging to your sleeves. He never went through that phase most boys go through, where they think they're too old to be spending time with their Mom or get embarrassed by affection and push her away or distance themselves from her. You were always grateful for that, it was heartwarming that he always seemed to be proud of you and happy to be seen with you.

But he does get very, very touchy. Always wrapping his arms around you. When you come to school events, visiting distant relatives (who all dislike him, but stopped bringing it up when you got defensive), even when you go grocery shopping (he always comes along, insistent on helping you), he's always coming up behind you, resting his head on your shoulder and keeping his arms looped around you from behind. And sure, he's never stopped kissing you on the mouth and not your forehead or something, but that's normal for some families, right? And it's only for a second, so it's not weird.

People do notice. You see the furrowed eyebrows and wrinkles noses and perplexed expressions, people leaning over to whisper something in another’s ear.

But at the same time, how could you ever bring something like that up? How could you possibly be mad at him for showing you affection? It's not as if you don't like it, it's just somewhat inappropriate in public… but it would surely hurt his feelings if you told him not to, so you say nothing.

You’re so, so grateful for him. He’s always there for you, always so loving, and has never even complained about having to go without a lot of things other people have.

And because he sees you struggling so much financially, by the time he’s a teenager he gets that itch where he feels like he has to prove himself, because how can he just sit back and let his Mama provide for everything, when he’s technically The Man of the household?

So soon enough he’s telling you — rather, insisting, no matter what you say — that he wants to help you pay for expenses.

It’s not consistently timed, but every now and then, he sometimes comes home to pull wads of cash out of his pockets, handed over to you with a sweet smile… and where did he get that money? Don’t worry about it, is all he’ll willingly say.

You know there’s no way anyone in this small little town would willingly hire him, since everyone knows who he is, and he’s coming back around the same time as he normally would… except sometimes he goes out in the evenings every now and then for just a few hours, when he never did that before, and takes his bag with him for some reason, and you know now that you think about it you recall the local news talking about a string of break-in thefts and increase in drug usage and — no, no, you know what? You decide to not think about it. Your mind has had as much as you can handle and you decide to tell yourself your beloved baby boy has some lucrative job he just never talks about for some reason or another. If you can convince yourself of that, well, that’s the first step to blissful ignorance, so you just cup his face in your hands and kiss his sweet face and tell him you’re so thankful and how much you love him and feel your heart melt when he looks so happy and proud of himself for you saying so.

But because he’s at least starting to show some self-awareness, understanding money issues and such, you figure this is a good time to get him invested in his own future.

You’re also a little worried about said future, given that the prospects for partnership in such a rural place are already sparse. Since everyone knows him, people guard their daughters and watch him like a hawk, tell them to stay the hell away from that boy, and they do listen, keep their distance. This troubles you, you bring it up to him — if you get a bad reputation, you’ll scare all the girls away! — and for once, he actually has some reaction.

But you’re not scared of me, are you?

Of course, you coo and fuss and say of course not — he's your baby, even if he hurts others, he's always so soft and sweet to you — and that seems to make him content, and anything you say about future prospects thereafter goes ignored.

Well, he ignores anything about prospects for him, at least. It's a different story when it comes to you.

Because the subject does come up once again. If you can just get a wealthy man, you say one day, you can easily make life so much easier for the both of you. You could get him a good education without debt, really set him up to have a bright future.

But the moment you mention it, his expression contorts with some amalgamation of shock, disgust, outrage, concern. He shakes his head and grabs you so firmly by your shoulders and says you can't be serious.

He'll be fine without college. No other man is going to appreciate you like he does. Love you like he does. No way can he let some guy just come in and invade the space you two have always shared. It would feel wrong, it would feel so foreign to him to have someone else living here when it's always been just you two. Besides, so many men would just use you, hurt you, leave you, he doesn't want to see you get hurt — and he'd never hurt you.

He's insistent, actually, on not going off to study. He wants to stay home, he says. He can't just leave you all alone! You'll be so lonely and you might replace him with another man— ah, you might get a boyfriend, and he couldn't be there to keep the guy in line.

And if some other man hurt you— well, he would do something really really bad, something that would get him locked up for a long time.

You don't want that, do you?

Because then, if some guy dumps you — which would inevitably happen, that's just how guys are, they'd use you and leave once they got bored or decided to replace you.

Like Dad, he says.

And sure enough, you tense up — he knows exactly what to say to make his words sting, he knows how much it hurts you, knows it's digging up pain you've tried to bury. You want to think he wouldn't do that on purpose. He's just distressed and the words came out without thinking.

But that pain is the hook to get you to listen. Because, he says, then if he goes away too, you'll be all alone without him. You'll have no one, and everyone in town already judges you, how would you ever survive without him? You need him, don't you? Could you really deal with the guilt of knowing it's your fault he would be locked up?

You try to reason with him, and his grip on your shoulders grows so tight it hurts.

For the first time, you feel a little scared of him, as he looks down at you — when did your baby boy get so much taller than you? — with a dark look in his eyes.

You find yourself shrinking back. Stammering out a soft little okay, nodding your head, saying you understand. You can feel your heartbeat in your throat.

And with that, he's immediately back to normal, smiley and happy and relieved you understand. He just doesn't want you to get hurt, is all. Because he loves you. You know that, right?

As long as you stay with him and him alone, he won't have any reason to really hurt someone. So, you know, his future hinges on your decisions, because he just can't help himself when it comes to defending you.

But that’s unlikely to happen on its own (everyone avoids you because of him and all), which is why you'd have to deliberately choose to pursue another man, which would make what happens your fault. He'll chase off any guys that get too close on their own.

Just don't put him in a position where he's forced to kill someone, and everything will be fine. You'll always have him, after all.

[lizzaneia-elizalde]

Hi I'm back. How are you?

How about... A yandere that has had a bunch of lovers and either killed them because he got bored or broke their heart beyond repair? But them he meets the reader and something changes?

Idk it seems like a fun dea.

Yandere! Male! Player x gn! Barista! Reader

Uh ohz, here is the player 🙄 there's a little twist to the request, meowing! I hope you don't mind. (Another Greek mythos twist. Not as blatant as Hades though. Only a bit of the Greek mythos is grabbed, not all.)

I'll see to it how can we break this little man

ヘ(￣ω￣ヘ)

AND, I AM GOING TO STOP TAKING NEW YANDERE REQUESTS! But, I am going to take asks about the existing yanderes now!

Yandere! Player name: Amor

A resounding slap echoed throughout the bustling cafe, silencing the people talking to each other. The woman, tear stricken and angry, looked at the man in front of her.

"We're over!" She yelled before stomping away from the cafe, leaving the man behind.

The people started to gossip amongst each other, but one particular action by the man stunned them.

He just sat down, took out his phone, and called somebody.

"Hey, fancy meeting tonight? I just know of this nice cafe. Date, my treat."

Shameless, the people thought as he chuckled and ended the call with a lazy smirk, stirring his coffee and sipping it.

Amor. Extremely handsome man. Charming, always knew how to get the ladies.

That's what made him full of shit since being handsome is his only redeeming quality.

He's arrogant, a bastard, selfish, has a pride taller than the Eiffel tower, and a total player.

He juggles women left and right, flavor of the day, who's gonna be my girl for the morning, afternoon, and night?

Why do people flock to this man again?

Ah, because the Gods favor this bitch.

What did he do in his past life that women love this man?

Well, in his past life, he's a boring nerd.

His family loved him dearly, and wanted him to succeed in life.

So, attending academic camps, prestigious schools, goddamn Kumon? He got it all.

Awards, upon awards. He collects them like pokemon.

Did it make him interesting?

No. All he knew is academics, and no outside skill.

He's book smart, not street smart.

Poor guy wasn't even attractive. So, when he finished University in an Ivy League Uni, he's lost. He doesn't have charisma to charm employers, he doesn't have the confidence to do public work...

Well, that, and NASA already hired him.

What? He is not street smart and has a hard time finding a job himself, but that doesn't mean he doesn't have connections.

In short, he's a Nepo baby.

At least he's a genius so NASA made sure to use him thoroughly.

But, he felt... Bored.

He wanted more from this life of his.

He wanted a girlfriend for fuck's sake!

So, by some stupid and desperation he himself never thought of doing, he turned to the old gods.

The old Gods, surprised by a sudden influx of eager and desperation of faith from only one man, decided to entertain them.

"PLEASE! WHEN I DIE, MAKE ME EXTREMELY HANDSOME AND HAVE WOMEN LEFT AND RIGHT!"

Oh... That's not...

He's really superficial....

Did the Gods care though? Nah. He's really entertaining. Awakening old Gods just for... Women?

So they granted his wish.

When he died of old age (unfortunately for him.), He woke up to another wealthy and loving family. But this time, he's the son of a world renowned Kpop idol, and a Miss Universe.

"This is overkill." Amor thought to himself as his mother cradled her. "But damn, ain't I happy!"

Growing up, even as a kid, girls liked him. He felt like on the top of the world. He retained his memory, so he's practically a gifted child. No, perfect child even!

Except that he's actually a foul kid.

He became arrogant, a snob. Someone who viewed himself too highly for people.

But do his parents care?

Eh...

They spoil the kid a lot. And turn a blind eye to his lack in manners.

Again, went to prestigious Universities, to Kumon, academic camps.

Everything was a breeze for him now.

He got a job as a model immediately. He decided to not go down the academic path, but use his parents' connections once more to climb up the showbiz ladder!

He's still a Nepo baby in this life.

Well, again, his handsomeness is almost too good to be true (work of the goddess of beauty), so his model career is skyrocketing in success.

And women.

Countless of them.

He cycles through them like toilet paper. Throwing them away once he's got his fill.

Yet, people don't care.

He somehow built a reputation off of being a player. When people say that "he broke somebody's heart again!"

"Eh, what did you expect from being in a relationship with Amor?" They would say with a shake of their head and a smile.

That's how much the Gods intervened with his life.

Once he sets his eyes on someone, he 100% would get them.

Unless....

"Tsk. Where can I go now..."

Amor paced around the street, turning heads left and right as this man sculpted by the gods had a worried look on his face.

The cafe he frequents closed down, now he needs a new place to take his women to dates to.

He's about to get his phone when a flyer hit him directly on his face. With an irritated glower, he grabbed the flyer.

"ow! What the f... Oh?"

He stopped, seeing the content.

"new cafe open?"

It looks like a generic cafe. But what was interesting was that the cafe is located in an indoor garden. Like a greenhouse.

"This is interesting. Women love flowers, don't they? And a garden of all places!" He laughs, making the gods stir from the sudden new cafe they got.

They all fuzzed, saying that this would be a good place. But, the goddess of Beauty stirred. Saying she got a bad feeling about this.

"relax, nothing will happen."

And when he got inside the cafe, he immediately got shocked by the barista, you.

Has there ever been an ethereal beauty like you? Someone... Someone who rivals even the goddess of beauty herself?!

The goddess stirred again, shackles raised. She never made you, so why are you this attractive?

Then, the goddess whispered on his ear.

It's to make you fall in love with a monster. Someone ugly, a beast... Anything to get your status down! Nobody can be as beautiful as her!

Envy filled the goddess as she gave Amor arrows to hit you with.

Now, assigned with the task of making you fall in love with what the goddess call a 'monster', he sets off to your house in the middle of the night. With the help of the other Gods, he became invisible and flew on to your balcony.

With a creak, your balcony doors opened. Making him shimmy inside through the small crack.

Yet, fate tempted him as the moonlight hit your form. In a vulnerable state, your androgynous beauty is amplified. Your long eyelashes, your skin... Your figure...

Truly, your beauty rivaled the goddess. No, you were more beautiful than her.

His throat dried, eyes glazed over.

Gods, are they tempting him?

It would be a waste for you to fall in love with an ugly guy.

His fingers twitched, trying to grab the arrow.

"OW!"

He seethed, doubling over as he clutched his finger. It got pricked by the arrow.

He somehow forgot a crucial information.

'whoever the first person the pricked sees if the arrows only pricked one, they will fall in love with the first person they sees.'

And, as his eyes irritably looked at you, overwhelming love filled inside him as he gasped in the sudden influx of emotions.

He kneeled down, eyes wide.

He's rigid. All he could see is your form. Lovely and so bright.

And hid eyes softened. A dull light in it as his lips twitched into a lovesick smile.

He was already attracted to you before, and now, pricked by the arrows, he's utterly obsessed with you.

With a twitch of his hand once more, he grabbed the arrow and stabbed himself fully to the thigh.

"GAGH!"

He doubled over, gasping, twitching for air as his heart pulsed through his ears. His eyes frantically finding your sleeping form before letting out a shaky moan from the satisfaction.

It was like a drug. Everytime he sees you, he gets overwhelmed with feelings of affection.

Is this what love is about?

And before he knows it, the arrows are all used up.

It was morbid, seeing this man stabbed with so many arrows.

But his face says otherwise. Like a drugged up man, overdosed on ecstacy, he was in a drooling trance from the addictive feeling of love for you.

The arrow is effective enough by one arrow, and now this?

Well, let's just say...

"I count, right?" He shakily asked the gods. "I'm a monster, somebody who breaks women's heart left and right."

He trembled, standing up.

He walked over to you, legs unsteady as he dropped to his knees once more and planted his lips on your own.

It tasted, you tasted so sweet, divine upon his lips.

He wants more, but he can't risk waking you up.

"Goodbye, my love. See you tomorrow." Amor whispered, grabbing your hand and dragging his nose on your skin and inhaling your scent. Exhaling shakily, he stood up and flew away.

Let's say, the goddess of Beauty was really angry at him.

But her condition, a 'monster', fits him. So, what can she do?

She gritted her teeth and looked at him with hatred, yet complacency.

You're so pretty, it hurts.

"Welcome to the Psyche cafe! How may I help you-- oh hello, sir Amor! The usual?"

Amor slowly nodded, clearing his throat.

"yes. The usual."

It's been weeks since then. And he made sure to make himself a regular in the cafe. He stopped going on dates, and pulled a lot of strings to somehow burry the player accusations. He knows he can't really burry it all.

So he made (threatened) the women he dated to be positive about him.

He wants to fly on your radar, spot on the middle, so bad.

So, with the invisibility power he got from the Gods, he always followed you. Even up to your home.

At first, his heart pounded like crazy. What if he suddenly appeared? Will you be freaked out? Surprised? Will you run away--

No, you can't run away.

Like you can, anyways.

He knew of your favorite food, fashion sense, hell, your taste in men...

He slowly changed himself into the man of your dreams.

Like a persona he integrated into himself, this sudden change shocked the people. But, they welcomed this change.

"Is he in love, that's why he's changing?"

More than that.

He's making himself into the perfect boyfriend for you.

Now, all he needs is you!

"Here's your coffee, sir!" You greeted with a sweet smile that he swore he had to grab his soul from leaving his body. "Enjoy!"

He gently grabbed the coffee and as usual, gave you 200$.

"sir..." You grimaced.

"Please, just accept it." He smiles. "You've always been a pleasant person to talk to, y/n. So, just see it as a generous tip. That I frequently give."

You looked down at the bill and smiled. Warmness spreads through your chest.

"thank you s--"

You looked up, and froze from the look he's giving you.

Deep, crazed...

Obsessed.

You shivered in fear.

Sensing your eyes on him, he coughed loudly, averting his eyes before returning to the man you knew.

Or did you actually know him?

You don't even know anymore.

But hey, he gives huge tips.

"Thanks again for the coffee." Amor smiles, trying to sweep what happened under the rug as he waved at you.

He went to his usual table. Somewhere secluded, yet has a clear view of you surrounded by flowers.

He observes you. Plans on what to do next.

He knew he can't just waltz in and whisk you away. That's barbaric.

But he's not opposed to the idea though...

He smirks.

He can probably pull tons of strings for you to end up in his arms.

He loves you, don't mistake that.

But, a little bit of... Force would be good.

He's an impatient man.

Also, did he mention that he's a selfish asshole?

How about, making your life so miserable. Getting you kicked out of this cafe, your family suddenly getting a huge debt...

Something he knows you can't pay immediately.

And his family would coincidentally sponsor you by giving you a condition of marrying him!

Anything to be with you, really.

Or, just steal another arrow and hit it with you. That's also plausible.

But, the goddess is pissed with him. So that's the last resort.

He sips his coffee and crosses his long legs.

He's favored by the Gods anyways.

His eyes narrowed slightly as you interacted too amicably with your coworker. An obvious blush on the coworker's face as he got too touchy with you.

No, everyone in the cafe is enamoured with you. Your beauty too good for this world.

He gripped the handle of his cup.

But first, let's get rid of potential rivals, yes?

You are only his.

What is there to fear? He has the resources in his hands to make you his.

You didn't know yet, but your fate is already sealed, tied, and shackled to him.

You don't really have a choice.

[d3wdropz]

Does Princess Wanna Fuck? Toji Fushiguro Smut

a/n: I am shocked yet not shocked this man won the poll- I'm kind of nervous but here we go

i'm so shocked how big this fic is- sorry it took so long, finals were kicking my ass

plz be kind this is my first large fic

pairing: bodyguard! toji fushiguro x reader

word count: 5.1 K

summary: your mother, a very rich and influential woman, gets on the wrong side of some dangerous people. To ensure your safety, she hires the best protection money can buy: the Sorcerer killer. You're happy to have the support, you just didn't think he'd be this hot.

content warning: fem!reader, not virgin! reader, pet names (princess, pretty, doll, sweetie), swearing, porn with plot, age gap (toji is 30 something, reader is early 20s), alcohol, p in v, dirty talk, fingering, oral (male and female receiving), rough fucking, no protection, creampie, doggystyle, kind of mean! toji, bratty! reader, a few spanks, degradation (slut), no strings attached, no aftercare, hopefully that's it

Thank you @benkeibear for the great banner once again!

"I promise, sweetie, nothing bad is going to happen. I have my own personal team looking after me, we all just thought it would be safer for you to stay away."

You were sitting on your bed, listening to the voicemail your mother had left for you. It came as no surprise that she was on the radar of some shady people. Your mother climbed her way out of poverty and became one of the richest people in the city.

Ever since you were a child, you knew the methods she used weren't very legal. This came in the form of strangers coming in and out of your house constantly, the long and far away trips she'd take for 'work', and the items and rooms you were never allowed near. The people you saw as a child always ended up on the news, both arrested and murdered. The trips she took would often mean you wouldn't see her for upwards of a year, with no way to contact her so her location would remain secret. The locked doors and mysterious duffel bags were the biggest give away.

There was a time when you were eight and curious. You wanted to know what was so important about some stupid locked box. Your mother was away on one of her 'work trips' again, so she'd never know. When you were finally able to unlock it, you found it full of expensive and shiny jewelry. If it weren't for the news showing a picture of the same accessories- only this time the reporter was asking for tips on finding the stolen gems- you would have likely played with them.

No matter the means, your mom provided and loved you. Her job was paying for the expensive house you were sitting in right now, the newest phone model you were holding in your hand. You accepted your mom's life choices, going as far as to lie for her when people got too curious.

But right now was different. Never before did your mother's work involve you, let alone threaten to kill and dismember you. As soon as your mother received the threatening text, she had half her team escorting you out of your apartment and back home.

That was almost a full week ago and since then you hadn't been allowed outside of the building. Your mother was currently at her 'office', with the rest of her bodyguards and team looking for the guy.

You focus back on the message just in time to hear her final words, "I know you hate being cooped up inside the house, and if I'm being honest those men I sent are amateurs. I've hired the best hitman to look after you, you'll even be able to go back to your apartment. He's the best in the business. Anyway, I love you so much, baby, be safe. I'll call you when things have calmed down."

You delete the message as soon as it's over, sighing and looking around the room. You haven't been here in ages, not since you left for college and started staying in your one-bedroom apartment. Whatever nostalgia you were starting to feel disappeared when you heard a light knock on the door.

"Miss," it was one of your mom's team members, "The new guy is here to escort you out."

Standing up from the bed, you walked over to the door and opened it just enough to see the guy's face, "Okay, tell him I'll be down there in a minute. I need to pack up my stuff."

Packing was easy enough, you didn't have any time to pack the day the team swept you away so the only thing you carried down the stairs with you was a small backpack.

As you made your way down the winding staircase, you could hear an unfamiliar voice having a one-way conversation with the serious guards at the door. It was playful and some how laid back, something you weren't used to when it came to people your mom worked with.

When you made it to the bottom, your eyes met pools of deep green. The chatter stopped as the stranger faced you with a satisfied smirk, "So this must be little miss princess, huh?"

A mixture of annoyance and embarrassment bubbled in your stomach as you clutched the straps of your bag, "And you're the famous 'hitman' my mom told me about? I expected someone more professional."

In all honesty, it wasn't your best jab. Just something you made up on the spot in an attempt to knock him down a peg.

It only served as amusement, though, as he chuckled and looked you up and down, " 'Don't need to be professional to be good in my line of work, princess," noticing the slight pout on your lips, his smirk melted into a soft smile as he nodded, "but you were right, I've been paid a lot to keep you alive, even more if I find the guy."

One of the other guards grabs your bag as they begin to lead you to the black car outside. While walking, you turn your head toward the stranger, "Now how are you gonna protect me and catch the guy? I don't really like the idea of you half-assing a job that involves my life."

Another smooth chuckle leaves his scarred lips as he hops into the back seat of the car with you, "Oh, you are gonna be fun to work with, princess."

The princess thing was starting to get on your nerves, now. No other guard or person affiliated with your mother treated you like this. At best, they respected you; at worst, they coward at the sight of you.

"I have a name, u'know. If my mom is gonna pay you, you might as well learn it," you huff and turn your body away from him.

The man crosses his legs lazily and grabs one of the mini bottles of alcohol from the side door, "Trust me, princess, I know a lot more than you think. I know you're a snooty, little brat who still doesn't know the name of the person holding her life in his hands."

At the mention- or threat- of knowing too much information for comfort, you turn just enough to peak at him from the corner of your eye. Instead of using your words, you raised a brow and waited for an answer.

He took his sweet time giving it, too. He finished the alcohol in one gulp and wiped his mouth on his bare arm. The muscles flexed as he brought his arm and up, catching your eye just long enough for him to notice.

He finally looked into your eyes again with a cocky smile, "Toji- and that's all you need to know."

You tried to keep eye contact, tried to assert your strength and maturity. But it was a losing game, the thoughts racing in your head kept you from looking into Toji's eyes any longer.

Out of all the things going through your head, one stuck out the most: this asshole's hot as fuck.

~ ~ ~

It's been about a week since your mother hired Toji to be your guard dog, and you hate to say it, but he's very good at his job.

The first few days left you nervous and doubtful of his abilities as he waved you off to 'do your shit'. He said that you could go about your day like normal, that you'd be safe no matter where you were.

This was nothing like the last week you'd just had. Instead of one guy keeping watch in the shadows, you had a whole teams worth of people just watching you laze around your house. You had to admit, it felt refreshing to get back to your life. And it turns out, Toji wasn't lying.

During all of your outings, you were safe as can be. After a bit of questioning, he told you that while you did your thing, he was watching your every move. While a part of you was upset that you would be lacking in privacy, another was happy in the fact that you likely have never been in safer hands.

Even while at home, Toji doesn't intrude. He does his thing and leaves you alone. This could be rummaging and eating the food in your fridge, or sitting shirtless on your couch as he waited to sleep.

He's made a comfortable little bed on the living room couch. Your apartment, while beautifully furnished and on the top floor, didn't have more than one bedroom. As soon as you both walked through the door, you made it clear you would not be giving your room up for him.

If you could sum it up in one word, you'd say you were content.

That is, until Toji gets ready for bed. You're proud to say that you're no bashful virgin, you've slept with a few guys. But none of them were as hot as the man sitting before you.

You're ashamed to say that you've spent more time staring at his abs than the cliche action movie playing on the TV. You're also ashamed to say that you've wanted to fuck him since that moment in the car.

Throughout the week, you've tried to get closer to Toji. Not for the sake of a connection, but to see if you had any shot at getting with him for one night. To his credit, in this regard he is professional. You've learned nothing about him but his name, you didn't even know his full name.

In an effort to make some sort of progress, you mentioned having a movie night. He didn't really have the option to say no as your full-screen TV with surround sound was in the living room. Just to sweeten the deal, you offered to get drinks and takeout- which worked in your favor as you both make your way through the bottle of vodka and a pack of beer.

"Okay, kid, I know I said you could pick the movie- but come on, this movie is horseshit," Toji grabbed the remote from your hands and finished off the can of beer in one chug.

You knew the movie sucked, choosing it because of that reason. When has anyone ever gotten fucked with a decent movie in the background? The point was for you and him to talk, not genuinely watch the film. You were running out of options and sober thought quicker than you'd like to admit.

Steeling your nerves, you finished off your drink as well and poured yourself another, stronger one, "Well, it's my TV so before you turn anything on I want I know what it is first."

He chuckled and clicked through the options, landing on a classic slasher. Toji tilted his head at the screen, black hair falling into his eyes, "This good enough for the little princess?"

"Fine, but you need to tell me why you keep calling me 'princess', it's really pissing me off," you titled your head to meet his gaze, hoping he couldn't see the blush forming on your cheeks.

Toji crossed his legs and leaned his back against the couch, laying his arms against the head rest. "You really don't know, do ya?"

The bored expression on your face was a good enough answer as he itched the back of his neck and closed his eyes, "Geez. . . I shouldn't be telling you this but maybe it'll knock you down a peg," you leaned forward, eager to finally get some kind of information from him. "Your mom is a powerful lady. Everyone in . . . my line of work knows about her," he points his finger at you and grins, "which means, everyone knows about you. People think of you as a prissy little princess that doesn't know anything about the real world."

All of the confidence you had dissipated during his explanation, fueling you to drink more and more vodka until your cheeks flushed. You were smart, you knew your limits- and right now you were there. If you continued like this, you'd be drunk and all your efforts would be for not.

With a huff, you point your own finger at him, "I am not a prissy little princess. I know what my mom does! I know about the real world, I'm not some spoiled little kid."

"Oh- if you know about how your mom paid for your life of luxury, tell me. Cause I sure as hell would love to hear about all the info you've got," to further irritate you- or turn you on, you're not sure- he uncrosses his legs to spread them as he leans against his knees.

At this, you sputter, look to the ground, anywhere but his eyes and crotch. You'd officially dug yourself a hole. You didn't want to know about what your mom did, it would solidify in your mind that she's a criminal. Something you didn't want to accept was that the woman who loves and raised you might not be a good person.

Toji chuckles and opens another can of beer at your silence, "Feels nice to be right."

You groan and cross your arms, "Fine! I don't know what my mom does- I don't even wanna know!" you finally meet his eyes, trying so hard not to stutter when you see the sheer amusement swimming in his head. "But I am not a prissy princess!"

For once, Toji breaks eye contact first to roll his, "Listen, kid, I've only been with you for a week, but I know a brat when I see one," you hope it's not your imagination when you see him lean towards you, looking you up and down, "and you, Y/n, are spoiled rotten. Bet no one's ever said no to you before. Never made you say 'please'. "

The warm tinge in your cheeks is uncontrollable now as you feel yourself getting wet, "You're not my dad- okay? I know manners, you just don't deserve them-"

In the blink of an eye Toji makes his way over to you, putting his hand against the head rest and smirking down at you, "Oh, sweetheart, those aren't the kind of manners I'm talkin' about," he leans down to your level, so close you smell the alcohol on his breath.

"I see the way you look at me, it's so fucking obvious," his voice is barely above a whisper but it's leaving you hot and bothered in your seat, "Bet you were waiting for me to drop everything and beg for a fuck, right? You'd want me to do all the work while you just lay there and act like a little pillow princess."

At his words, you try and look to the ground in hopes of calming your racing heart. This attempt ends in Toji gripping your chin harshly and forcing you to look at him again, "If you really wanna fuck, cutie, then I'm gonna need you to be a good little girl. You think you can do that?"

The throbbing in your cunt is unbearable and you're desperate for any kind of action, so you eagerly nod your head. In response, Toji digs his fingers into your chin, "Use your words, slut."

All inhibition flew out of your body as you pouted, "Yes, yes please. I can be a good girl."

Satisfied, Toji let go of your face and stood up straight, "Prove it. I'm gonna clean up in here and by the time I'm done you better be nice and ready for me."

You're in your room in an instant, throwing off your pajama shorts and shirt. Your heart's racing as you lay down on the bed and reach your arm down to your aching cunt. It's been forever since you've gotten off, two weeks ago you were so stressed it didn't feel right. This week, you were hoping the wait would be worth it.

By how sensitive you are, you're happy you waited.

The simple ghosting of your fingers over your clothed clit has you biting your lip. You couldn't draw this out, though, Toji made a demand and if you wanted to be fucked you'd follow it.

Slipping your hand underneath the green, laced panties, you rubbed at your clit. Just a few circles was enough preparation as you slipped in a finger and tried rubbing at that spongey, deep, spot.

A whine slipped past your lips as your finger just barely reached your pleasure point. You were so close, you just needed a push. Letting the laced bra-strap fall off your shoulder, you pinched and rubbed at your hardened nipple. Hoping and begging for some kind of stimulation to get you over the edge.

Your whimpers and curses stopped as soon as you felt two calloused hands spread your knees.

"Can't even get yourself off, can you, princess?" Toji's grin was prideful as he admired your choice of clothing. He tsked and wrapped his hands around the straps of your panties, "Don't think some sexy lingerie is gonna save you, I told you to get prepped."

In one swift motion, he pulled down your underwear and threw them behind me. Toji climbed onto the bed, leaning back on his knees between your legs as he lazily stroked your clit, "maybe you aren't a good girl after all?"

At this, you sat up on your elbows and looked at him through your lashes, "I am! I promise I tried," you put all of your weight onto one arm as you used the other to rub at the bulge in his sweat pants. To avoid his gaze, you opted to stare at his abs.

You couldn't help but bite your lip from the excitement, "I just need your help, please, can't cum without you."

His mouth was clamped shut as you caressed his dick threw his pants, which you noticed were the only thing covering his manhood. His brows knitted together as he rolled his head on his shoulders, closing his eyes.

A small, deep laugh left his throat as he reopened his eyes, "You want my help, princess? Earn it, show me how grateful you are and suck my dick."

You didn't need to be told twice as you quickly lowered the waistband of his sweats and freed his cock. Drool pooled in your mouth as you studied his member. It was thick and curved, a nice seven inches with a mushroom tip you knew would hit just the right places.

Toji carefully put his hand on the back of your head, "Don't tell me you're backing out now, doll."

With your ego stroked and a need for praise, you shake your head and spit into your palm. Leaning against his clothed thigh, you wrapped your hand around his cock and gave him a few pumps. "No, just think you cock's pretty."

The hand on your head softly massaged your scalp in response as he let out a breathy chuckle, "Thanks, cutie, but how about you get to showing me that appreciation."

Taking the hint, you put both hands to work as you move them back and forth, adding in twists and some pressure when getting close to the base. You look up at Toji and are happy to see him closing his eyes in concentration as he bites his lip.

You decide now is the perfect time to bump it up a notch and wrap your lips around the tip. You suck on it and speed up your hand movement until you slowly suck on more of his cock. When you're finally able to fit it all in, you hollow out your cheeks and gently cup his balls. More heat floods your cunt when you hear Toji let out a groan and tighten his grip on your head.

"Fuck- just like that, princess," he runs a hand through his hair and struggles to hold in a moan as you pull your mouth up to the tip and tongue at the slit. Your hands go back to his cock as you squeeze and pump. When you hear him breathe faster, you go back to sucking him, bobbing your head up and down now.

It doesn't take long for this changing of tactic to have Toji bucking his hips up into your face. He's close, you can tell. At this point, you don't care if he cums down your throat, he'll probably be ready for more within five minutes.

Toji has other plans, though, as he pushes you off of his cock and onto your back, "Shit, doll, gonna ruin the fun." He repositions himself so that he's laying between your spread thighs, hands holding them tight against the sides of his head.

" 'think that deserves a reward," he dives his head down to your cunt, halting before he touches you. His emerald eyes peer up at you through raven locks as he speaks, "you better not cum, princess."

You nod and stroke his hair, gasping when he shuts his mouth against your pussy and starts sucking on your clit. It feels amazing, his fingers prod at your opening before plunging in and starting an unforgiving pace.

The hands in his hair pull him closer as you arch your back off of the bed. The neighbors probably can hear your loud and porno-grade moans, but you don't care. Toji's reaching all the places you couldn't and it's sending you to paradise.

"Ah! Toji- oh fuck- Toji! 'Gonna cum! I'm so close- fuck!" there are tears brimming your eyes from the pleasure as you start to clench around his fingers. You're so close, it feels so good.

You cry out when Toji pulls away, sucking his fingers clean as he stands up just long enough to takes off his pants, "Don't worry, doll, not leavin' you, just getting us more comfortable."

Panting and whimpers are the only sounds you can make as he unclasps the laced bra you wore and turns you onto your stomach.

"Think you can hold yourself up?" Toji's behind you, holding your hips firmly as he rubs the head of his cock between your folds.

You buck back against him, hoping to get some attention to your clit. As you register the question you lift yourself onto your elbows and nod, shaking your ass in excitement, "please, Toji, need you to fuck me so bad. Need to cum on your cock."

His nails dig into the flesh of your hips as he snaps his own forward. In one swift motion, Toji bullies his cock into your dripping cunt. You let out a squeal, almost letting your face fall into the pillows. His mouth falls open in a silent groan, letting his head fall forward as he looked down.

"Shit baby. . ." Toji breathes out and pulls his hips back slowly, savoring the view of his dick soaked in your juices. Just the tip was left snug in your cunt, leaving you wanting more.

"Ah! Toji- put it back! Please," you begged and tried to move back into him, only to be stopped by a sharp slap to your ass. You yelped, arms finally giving out as you face-planted into the pillows.

Toji 'tsked', massaging and gripping the reddened skin, "You better be patient, princess, or you're not gonna cum tonight."

With that, he sank back into you and repeated the movement. His pace was slow and agonizing, thrusts shallow and teasing. Tears formed in your eyes again at the lack of stimulation. You could feel the veins and ridges of his cock slide against you, but he wasn't hitting deep enough, wasn't going fast enough to send you over the edge.

On the other hand, Toji was enjoying himself. He was savoring the way your pussy clenched around him, pulling him in every time he pulled out. If he was being honest, all he wanted to do was grip your head, force your face deeper into those silk pillows, and pound into your cunt until you creamed. Not yet, though, Toji needed to teach you some manners; only good girls get to cum and cry on his cock.

His hands spread your cheeks apart to watch you clench around him. A hiss came from his scarred and bitten lips as he stayed still inside you, feeling you squeeze his dick just right. Toji let out a breathy chuckle as he wrapped his arms around your waist and leaned his chest onto your back.

" 'think you've been a good girl for me," one of his arms made its way around your throat, pulling you up against his chest as he thrust into you, hard. His head was nestled into your neck, biting and leaving dark purple marks, "better not hold out on me, princess, wanna hear how good I fuck this little cunny."

That was all the warning you got as Toji started pistoning his hips into yours, using his grip to slam your body into his thrusts. Tears of pleasure rolled down your face as your eyes rolled to the back of your head.

It felt so good, the way his dick was slamming into your soft spot over-and-over. Toji was sending you closer and closer to your orgasm, faster than you expected.

"Oh shit! Toji- feels so fucking good! Ah- right there! Fuck! Right there!" You didn't care about the cries and moans coming out of your mouth. You didn't have the energy or focus when the only thing you could think about was how this was possibly the greatest fuck of your life.

You felt a rough hand snake its way between your thighs, starting to draw hard circles into your bundle of nerves. You let out a loud whine, head falling back and leaning against Toji's shoulder, now covered in a thin layer of sweat.

His arm dropped from your throat, finding purchase in groping your boobs. "That's it, princess, cum for me," his voice was low and gravely, desperate to feel you squeeze and milk him for all he's worth.

Finally gaining some sense, you gripped his wrist, trying to pull him away from your clit. You whined and felt your legs begin to shake, "Toji! Wait- gonna cum- gonna cum!" It was all building too fast, too intense. A part of you thought you might pass out when you reached your peak.

He chuckled and rubbed faster at your nub, bending you over and pressing his upper body into your back. It left you trapped beneath him, and gave Toji a better angle to fuck into you. At this point, it felt like he was hitting against your cervix.

"Come on, pretty, don't hold back" his thrusts sped up as his head dipped into your shoulder. You could hear his heavy breaths and low grunts before you felt him lick at the shell of your ear. "Show me what a good girl you are and cum."

Toji's words were all you needed to fly over the edge. A numbness washed over your sweat-soaked body, being replaced with unbelievable pleasure within a half a second. Your loud, high pitched moans filled the room, drowning out the sound of his thighs slapping against your ass. White filled your vision as you clenched around his cock. In the wake of your mind-shattering orgasm, you fall onto the bed, Toji following behind you and pinning you to the mattress.

As you dome down from your high, you feel Toji move his hand to grip your hips, digging his dull nails into your flesh. Somehow, he's fucking you harder as he groans into your neck.

"Fuck- good girl, good girl," his mouth latches to your skin now, leaving a hickey behind and moving to make another. "Gonna cum, pretty, gonna cum for you."

With one, final thrust, Toji stills inside you as he bites into the junction between your neck and shoulder, "Take it, slut- take it."

The feeling of hot cum gushing into you leaves you a whining little mess. Toji holds you tight, softly rolling his hips to ride out his orgasm. The two of you are left sweating and panting on your bed. You're too exhausted to think about what to do next, feeling just the slightest bit of overstimulation as he stays inside your abused cunt.

Toji chuckles and pulls out, sitting up on his knees to look at the mess he left between your thighs. You turn your head to look at him, lacking enough energy to move the rest of your body. Through the corner of your eyes, you watch Toji comb a hand through his hair before getting off your bed and collecting his discarded pants.

Some part of you wanted him to stay, but you're mostly glad he's taking charge and leaving without being told. It's obvious that this isn't the first time Toji's been in this position.

Even when fucked out, you've got a job to do. You manage to roll onto your back and run your hands down your face. The intent stare Toji gives to your bare tits doesn't go unnoticed, in return you smile teasingly at him, "Jeez, you aren't even gonna help me clean up?"

Toji ties the strings of his waistband and gives you a cocky grin, "I'm not being paid to pamper you, now am I?" He snickers as you roll your eyes, turning to leave the room. Toji stops himself just before he makes it out the door and raises a brow at you, "You're on birth control, right?"

At this, you scoff and chuck one of your throw pillows at him, "Maybe you should get better at your pull-out game, asshole."

He easily dodges the pillow, huffing as he leaves your room for real this time. While he makes his way to the bathroom, you hear him mutter something along the lines of 'getting you plan b in the morning.'

You sit yourself up on your elbows, cringing at the feeling of Toji's cum leak out onto your bedspread. The clock reads that it's two in the morning, and you really just wanna go to sleep- you would, if it wasn't for the various fluids drying on your bed. You groan and go to get off the bed, only to fall to the ground from the ache in your thighs.

"Damn it," you look up at the ceiling and hear Toji turn the TV back on in the living room. As you lay there, you let the memories and events sink in. He lets out a loud laugh at something he saw on the screen, and you're reminded that Toji is, in fact, a dickhead.

But you can easily admit that he's an excellent fuck. You're pretty sure that no one's any closer to finding the guy that threatened you. Maybe you can get one last round in before his job's done.

[goldenamaranthe-blog]

Apple Seed 7: Demons

Charlie: (nestled into bed and surrounded by a maternity pillow to help prop up her heavy set baby belly) Are you sure you're alright with me going to bed early? I can stay up a little longer and help with the new residents' paperwork.

Vaggie: (cups Charlie's cheek and brushes her thumb over the bright red circle, slipping her finger into the well hidden dimple camouflaged underneath) I'm sure, hun. I can handle it just fine. I'll be in bed in about two- (checks the bedside clock) -two and a half hours.

Charlie: (pouts) But-

Vaggie: (presses a finger to Charlie's lips) No, no hables más, mi amor. You've been sleeping horribly for weeks. If you're tired, you should sleep. I can take over so you can rest. ¿Comprende?

Charlie: (huffs childishly but eyes slowly soften as she kisses Vaggie's finger) Yes, Ma'am. I understand. (snuggles under the covers and strokes her belly) I love you, Vaggie.

Vaggie: I love you too, querida. (kisses Charlie's forehead) Good night. (slowly exits the room and shuts the door with a soft click)

Vaggie: (sighs heavily and shuffles down the hall with an uneasy stride and hunch in her shoulders) Mierda... What am I going to do?

Vaggie: (enters the office and sits behind the desk, slowly opening a side drawer to reveal a hidden flask and pulling it out to take a pull of the liquor inside) Fuck.... Now, I'm drinking by myself because of this... Shit....

-Silence-

Vaggie: (bites her lip and pulls out her phone) I cannot believe I'm doing this. (dials the number and sets the phone to speaker)

-Brrrrrrrrd! ....Brrrrrrrd! ....Brrrrrrrrd!-

Carmilla: Carmine Industries. State your business.

Vaggie: (nervous) Uh, hello, Ms. Carmine. This is Vaggie Morningstar.

Carmilla: I'm well aware who you are, Vaggie. That's the point of caller ID. What do you want?

Vaggie: (under her breath) Gee, aren't you just as perky as ever. (clears her throat) I'm... in need of some... ugh...shit.... advice.

Carmilla: .............I'm listening.

Vaggie: You have two daughters.

Carmilla: How astute of you.

Vaggie: Smartass comments aside! (gets quiet and nervous) How... do you do it?

Carmilla: ..........I must say. Normally, I'd pride myself on being able to understand most nonsensical babbling, but I'm not quite following yours. Elaborate.

Vaggie: (sighs and sinks into the chair) How do you do it? Hold your kids when you have blood on your hands? (stares at her palms and flinches as flashes of deep crimson blood stain her fingers before returning to normal)

Carmilla: I see. This is about your prior Exorcist work and the baby on the way, isn't it?

Vaggie: (nods sullenly before remembering that she's on a voice call) Fuck! Yes! This is about that! How can I hold a perfect little being after everything I've done?! After all the people I've killed here in Hell? (flood gates open as her emotions run wild and tears sting her eyes) I know Charlie has forgiven me, but what if I hurt them? What if... I'm not good enough?

Carmilla: .............

Vaggie: (slowly calms down and wipes the tears from her eyes)

Carmilla: (softly) Because when that child is born, the hands that you once used to kill will be used to protect something even more precious than you could ever imagine.

Vaggie: (blinks) Carmine?

Carmilla: That innocent, perfect little baby will rely on you for everything the moment they're born. Your wife will rely on you to help her shoulder the burden. Do you honestly think that child will care about the people you killed when they only know the love you've given it? The care you've provided to it and it's mother?

Vaggie: But.... what if I-

Carmilla: Taint it? (huffs a laugh) With what? Slightly sullied hands that may or may not be covered in spit up? A child isn't tainted by the past sins of a parent, stupid girl.

Vaggie: (glances at her hands and watches as the blood washes away to a gross, white milky substance and cringes at the thought of spit up) Not sure how much I want that either....

Carmilla: Just remember to burp the child thoroughly between changing breasts if the princess is breastfeeding, and especially after. It should help with any projectile vomiting.

Vaggie: (smiles softly and relaxes) Do... you have anymore words of maternal wisdom for me? I... uh... feel pretty useless right now.

Carmilla: Hmmph. (sits down at her desk and leans back in amusement) Grab a notebook, and I'll give you a few tricks of the trade.

[c0ld0utside]

Do you write angst/sadder ideas?

I had a idea of a reader whose mother died during birth, and because of the grief their father accidentally ignored them? Working constantly, missing important events. Like he’s not the worst father, just absent. could make him rich so reader spends more time with a nanny then their own father.

So reader runs away, and the father finally realized what he did and has to try to find reader? (Readers at a friends house but the father doesn’t really know their friends. Or something like that idk)

sorry if this is long or something that’s boring, perfectly fine if you don’t want to do it :)))

Sorry this took me so long. No TW's really (not that I know of at least).

Could you blame him? Being a single father was hard, especially when you’re a CEO for a company that owns other companies and so on… and when you remind him so much of who he lost. Maybe it’s your eyes, or your face shape or the texture of your hair. Maybe even the way you talk. Regardless, Steven was a busy, sad, mourning man who’s grief worsened upon seeing you, his only child.

He tried to make it up to you. He hired you a nanny- Ms. Noya- to be there for you instead. He’d send you birthday cards- May 18th is your birthday, right? Steven would even send you cupcakes- only to find years later that you didn’t like cupcakes. Odd. Who doesn’t like cupcakes? Whatever. Point is, he tries. Even if Steven’s work is more important than you and those soccer matches and choir concerts that he missed.

At least Ms. Noya attended, right? Well- even if she couldn’t make it to all of your games at least someone is cheering you on. Steven doesn’t know that some of your classmates make fun of you for needing a Nanny. That they mock you for your lack of attention. That Mommy died because of you and Daddy hates you for it.

If he had known sooner he would’ve dismissed all of those things. Told you that no, he doesn’t hate you for what happened because- well, these things happen. He and your mother knew the risks. Steven just didn’t expect it to hurt as much as it did.

Steven stands there in your empty bedroom on the verge of having a panic attack. After seeing your posts online of games you won and concerts you were a part of, he mustered up his courage and decided to finally come home. Only to find that you weren’t there. Nor was your Nanny. He searched all over the home, calling out for you and Ms. Noya but got no answer. He tried calling you with his phone- you wouldn’t pick up.

So, he searched your room and found your diary. Steven knew it was a #1 rule to not go through your child’s diary, but he needed clues to where you were. And he hasn’t spoken to you in so long- it suddenly hit him that he knew nothing about you. How shameful.

…

Steven set the diary down with a shaky sigh.

I don’t know why I’m still not used to him being here.

I’ve been throwing the cupcakes away.

I don’t even use most of the stuff he gives me. I should give it away. It’s cluttering up my room and closet.

I wish he’d actually just stop by for once. I didn’t kill her. It’s not my fault. I don’t even want to be here.

Fuck this. I don’t know why I’m still waiting for him. I’m going to Lucy’s.

Lucy? Who is Lucy? A friend? Steven quickly calls up the school to ask them about a “Lucy.” On a rare stroke of luck, there’s only one Lucy in your school. After getting her address (people are so easily bribed with money), Steven immediately called the police.

Was it the best reaction? Noooo. But come on- if it was him who had showed up you wouldn’t have come back. Steven was sure of that. Especially after reading your diary. (He was 100% wrong.)

Yeah you freaked out on him once you got home. He expected that! You were just put in a police car after all. It’s amusing, really, how nervous he is. Him, Steven (l/n), a CEO that essentially has it all. Has been through countless meetings where he was calm and precise and knew what to say.

“I’m really sorry sweetheart! I didn’t know where you were and I- …I had to see you. I know it’s been a long while and that that’s an understatement but it’s been so long and I need to make it all up to you.”

-

Going back to school the next day had been extremely awkward for you and your friends. When you got home, you were horrified to find out that Ms. Noya had been…”removed,” putting it lightly.

“I’m going to be working from home from now on, so we won’t be needing her anymore.” Steven had told you. He shushed you when you started to protest, patting your head like a toddler.

“I know there are huge changes happening, but it’s okay! I’ll fix everything and we can make up for lost time. I promise.”

“Daddy’s here now, and he won’t leave you alone again.”

____

Yall I'm sorry this is taking me so long forgive me please. My chromebook has been acting up so I'm stuck writing on my phone.

Criticism is welcome. Remember to drink some water and eat.

[phoward89]

Masterlist

Stepcest, Stepson!Coryo x Stepmother!Reader, Sub!Coriolanus, Switch!Reader, Crassus Snow x Younger!Reader

WARNING ⚠️ Coriolanus Snow is a warning in and of itself. Crassus Snow is a cold hearted asshole, but he's a hot asshole... Stepcest, older man/younger woman, arranged marriage, cheating, affairs, secrets, cussing, secret love child, Coryo is a bit selfish and too ambitious, Crassus decides to try and be a better husband/father

Part 4:

Dinner has just been served, so you're gathered around the dining room table with Grandma'am and Coriolanus. Crassus isn't home yet, but you're not worried about his absence. He'll be home any minute. He always walks in around the time dinner's served.

In fact, you're expecting to hear the door open and your husband's footsteps echo against the marble floor at any second. Like you've been hearing every single night around this time since you moved into the Snow penthouse; became a part of the Snow family.

You’re picking at your food with disinterest while listening to Coriolanus brag about the praise he received from Dr. Gaul during his internship earlier in the day.

“Dr. Gaul wants me to help her conduct an experiment on a new test subject.” Coriolanus smiled proudly, icy eyes sparkling with excitement.

“Oh, I hope it's nothing too ghastly. Some of those science experiments can be atrocious.” Grandma’am says while cutting her chicken with such grace. Truly, her manners were from a time once forgotten- a time of gentleman and cavaliers. “Why, I remember when I was a girl our science teacher made us dissect frogs. Can you believe that?”

And suddenly the sound of the phone ringing fills the air.

Ring, ring, ring…

“I'll get it.” You announce, removing your napkin from your lap before standing up.

Coriolanus just nods before telling Grandma'am, “Oh, Dr. Gaul won't be having me dissecting frogs. Her experiments are more complex than that.”

Yea, the mad scientist will probably be having him dissect the latest drugged and numbed body of a district test subject turned mutt.

Ring, ring, ring...

You quickly make your way into the sitting room, which was closer to the dining room and had a phone in it.

Ring, ring, ring…

“Hello, Snow residence. Mrs. Snow speaking.” You answer in the polite way you've been instructed to take phone calls for the family. Yes, the Snows are an old and highly regarded family so answering the phone has to be a polite and professional affair.

“Y/N, it's me. Crassus.” Your husband says over the phone. Of course, the phone in the sitting room isn't a video phone, but a simple standard phone, so you can't see his facial expressions.

The video phones are in the living room and in your husband's study. Why, who knows. You really don't care either. Not like you talk to a lot of people on the phone anyways.

Sadly, the few friends you had drifted away from you once you married Crassus shortly after graduating the Academy. Apparently, your ‘friends’ didn't want to associate with you anymore because your husband's a middle-aged man; a cold-hearted war hero. Yes, you suppose that your husband intimidated your ‘friends’ just by his presence and that's why they all drifted away.

Sometimes your brother calls you to check in, but, sadly, he's too busy with his life as an Officer in 12. And your mother rarely calls. You don't know why, but for some reason you being married and a mother doesn't quite sit well with her despite the fact that she signed off on your arranged marriage contract.

Your brow furrows at hearing your husband on the phone. Shouldn't he be on his way home right now?

And as if he could read your thoughts, Crassus tells you, “I’m calling because I'm going to be late for dinner.”

Why?

As if he heard your mental musing, he explains, “I let my secretary leave early. It's his anniversary and he's taking his wife out for dinner.”

Of course, your husband lets his secretary leave early to celebrate his anniversary while you've never celebrated an anniversary let alone a birthday with Crassus. Hell, the only reason you celebrate holidays with your husband's because they're federal and all of the government buildings are closed for them.

“So, I'm afraid I'm not quite sure what time-” Crassus began to say, only to cut himself off mid sentence when he heard you sniffling over the phone.

Crassus couldn't help, but feel as if he's the reason you're sniffling. He doesn't know why, but it sends a pang to his cold heart. He's sitting at his desk, clutching his phone; listening to your sniffles turn into soft sobs and he has no idea how to deal with it. Crassus isn't a man that's a natural comforter; in fact he's naturally stern and aloof.

“Petal?” Crassus asks, the new pet name slipping from his tongue before his mind could think better of it. Before he could utter your name.

Petal? Since when does your husband use pet names with you? Are you hallucinating? Is your baby blues making you hear things? Wiping your tears, due to your rollercoaster emotions brought on by the baby blues, you compose yourself and tell Crassus, “I'll have your plate placed in the oven for you. You can reheat it whenever you get home.”

You didn't even give Crassus a chance to respond, just told him, “I'll see you whenever you get home. Bye.”, before hanging up on him.

Instead of returning to the dining room, you opted to spend some time with your son in his nursery. Since Cassian's sleeping, you decide to just sit in the corner rocking chair while watching him.

Cassian was such a precious baby. Over the last few days he's started to settle easier; sleep a bit longer. He's a good baby; doesn't cry too much- just when he's hungry or his diaper’s soiled. Little Cassian Xandros is also a very happy baby. Even tho he's barely a week old, you swear he smiles at you every time his icy eyes (Snow eyes) lands on you- his mom.

You're not sure how long you've been in the nursery for, but you know it's been a while because Coriolanus enters the room with a frown maring his prominent and flawless face.

“You never came back to the dining room after answering the phone, mommy.” Coryo tells you, closing the door behind him and striding over to you.

“I wasn't hungry.” Is your excuse. Well, it wasn't an excuse per say. You truly did lose your appetite considering you were picking at your plate before Crassus even called. You're blaming that on the baby blues since you're feeling a bit melancholy.

“You can't skip meals, Y/N. You're a nursing mother; you need all the strength you can get to properly feed our son.” He chastises while towering over you.

Sighing, you remind your lover, “As far as legality’s concerned, Coryo, Cassian's my son with Crassus; he's his father while you're the older brother.”

Coriolanus' handsome face contorts as his baritone echoes out darkly, “Don't throw that minor inconvenience into my face. Despite what legal papers say I'm the baby's father and as his father I want what's best for him, which includes you eating properly in order to nurse him.”

The University student's berating sounds harsh to you. Perhaps it's because of your baby blues or perhaps it's because he's making you feel like he's attacking your abilities as a mother. But whatever the reason, his lecture has tears springing to your eyes. Tears that you just can't control.

Coriolanus' face skews up in bafflement. He can't understand why you're breaking down in tears over nothing. He's just having a conversation with you. And he's noticed that this isn’t the first time you've been weepy and dismal for no good reason.

Yes, over the last few days while coming and going from the penthouse, Coriolanus has noticed that you've been a sniffling, melancholic mess. But he can't figure out why. You have him and the baby he decided to give you, you should be happy- no, not just happy, but grateful for those things; not boo-hooing when you think you're all alone.

Frankly, the golden- haired devil with a halo of curls is tired of your tears. They have no merit. At least not in his mind.

Taking long, quick steps over to the baby's crib, your lover picks up the newborn, causing him to wake up with a loud wail of a cry, and storms over to you. Literally shoving the baby into your arms, Coryo callously orders, “Stop your mindless weeping.” As you soothe your baby, you're hiccuping while tears still continue to stain your cheeks. “You have me, who loves you, and the baby I gave you; there's no reason for you to be so out of sorts, mommy.” The platinum blonde tells you, trying to get you to see how unwarranted your cries are.

But before you can even explain that it's not your fault, that according to Grandma'am you have the baby blues, Coryo sees himself out of the room with the excuse that he was homework to do to ensure he's still the top of his graduating class.

When Crassus gets home, his mother's up and waiting for him. “Crassus, I'm appalled and ashamed that you never came home for dinner.” Grandma'am chastised her only living son as soon as he set foot in the main room of the penthouse, briefcase loosely clutched in his large hand.

“Mother-” The cold and stoic man begins, only for his mother to cut him off with a firm and motherly, “Don't mother me, Crassus Xanthos Snow. Not when you come home 2-hours later then you should; missing dinner and quality time with your family.”, while rising from her seat and marching over to her son with as much speed as her old arthritis filled bones will let her.

“I called Y/N and told her I'd be late. Didn't she relay my message?” Crassus asks- using the question as his defense against being late.

“She received the call while we were gathered in the dining room for dinner; she never returned after your call.”

Great…him coming home late made you so sad that you couldn't even rejoin the family for dinner. Were you crying so badly that you couldn't control it; that you felt the need to eat perhaps after everyone else was done as a way to hide your sadness from them? Oh, hell, did he screw up not coming home for dinner?

Fuck!

He's a horrible husband.

A horrible, shitty, cold-hearted husband that doesn't know how to treat his wife, who’s 2-decades younger than him. But, despite being a cold, indifferent husband towards you he doesn't want you crying at the drop of a hat and being sad.

His first wife seemed so happy to be Mrs. Snow; she even seemed to smile a bit brighter when she shoved him out the door for work- and that was back when he was stationed in District 12 as the Commander and only came home to his Corso penthouse in the Capitol on furloughs. How is it that his late wife, Demeter, was never saddened by his absence while you are? You both married him at similar ages, both knew what was expected of you- being a proper socialite housewife of the respected heir of an esteemed founding Capitolite family, so what was the difference between you and her? Why is it that you're a mess, crying your eyes out, because he's emotionally cold and unavailable while his first wife wasn't bothered by it; didn't seem to mind his cold-hearted and stern ways?

Were you more emotional because you took after your father, Javani, more than your mother, Helenium? Were you more of an introverted, kind-hearted, sunshine and roses type then he originally thought? He remembers that Javani Halvir, his late best friend and your father, was very introverted and only opened up around those he was truly comfortable with, that he truly didn't have a mean bone in his body- hence why he got along so easily with just about everyone he crossed paths with, and that he always looked on the sunny side of life.

Oh shit…

If you truly have a personality like your father's then your marriage to Crassus is probably slowly killing you since he's not doing anything to make you feel comfortable. Maybe he should've looked harder to find you a suitable match with somebody younger and less jaded? But, truthfully, Crassus jumped the gun and married you in fear of General Byzantine (the former Commander of 2 that was on the rebels' side of the war before siding with his friend Strabo Plinth and joining the Capitol against the rest of the rebellion and ending the siege around Capitol City) using Strabo Plinth’s money to seduce your mother's soul into allowing him to have your hand in marriage. He knew that Javani would roll over in his grave and haunt him from Elysian if Crassus let Byzantine get his grubby, lecherous hands on you.

Giving her son a motherly whack on the arm, the type all mothers use for scolding, Grandma'am gives Crassus a much needed lecture on his skills as a husband. “Crassus, I draw the line at you missing dinner tonight. You're not a very caring or attentive husband to Y/N and maybe before my new grandbaby came I could turn a blind eye to it, but I can't do it anymore. You need to be more understanding and considerate of your wife's feelings, Crassus. She's a new mother to Cassian; her entire life is now devoted to raising the child that you gifted her, she deserves a husband that at least pretends to care about her and his newborn then one that blatantly doesn't.”

“Mother-” Crassus tried to dig himself out of the hole that was his mother's scolding, but was cut off by her snapping, “Crassus, I'm ashamed at how you're treating your wife. Being a new mother's very taxing on her; she needs your support, even if it's just faux support.”

“My first wife wasn't like Y/N; she didn't need my attention and support so badly.” Crassus points out as a weak way of defending his shitty actions as a husband.

“Demeter, bless her heart and rest her soul, was nothing like Y/N.” Grandma'am told her son. Not waiting from him to make a reply, the elderly woman explained her remark with, “She was a youthful, vapid, vain girl that viewed joining our family by marrying you as a way to get out from under her parents thumb. According to Pluribus, she batted her eyes and powdered her nose at you while plopping herself down at your table while at his old nightclub. She wanted a marriage, but was too insipid to truly want anything past the successful husband and the perfect family that includes a male heir to coddle and spoil."

Grandma'am grew to care for her first daughter-in-law after living with her for so long, since Crassus didn't take her on base with him, but she never saw her as having what it took to be a true Snow. She always thought the young lady was lacking something since she always seemed a bit dull, despite being a gentle-soul.

“And Y/N’s like her father, Javani.” Crassus stated what he'd only just realized a few minutes earlier.

Grandma'am patted her son on the cheek, a small smile gracing her lips. “It took you long enough to see it, my boy.”

Now, in Grandma'am's opinion you have what it takes to be a Snow. You're a lovely girl, very well rounded. But she's afraid that if her son doesn't support you during your baby blues then you'll turn into a former shell of yourself.

Grandma'am, unlike you, had the support of her husband during her boughs of the baby blues. Hopefully she can get her son to be benevolent towards you.

After Crassus placed his briefcase in his study, he went to your shared bedroom only to discover that you weren't there. He knew that the only other place you could be was the nursery. He made a mental note to go to the nursery to see you once he was finished showering and dressing in a pair of fine silk pajamas.

So, that's why when you're in the middle of singing your son to sleep with a pre-Panem song that you remember your father tucking you into bed with before the war: Cat’s in the Cradle, Crassus walks into the room.

Your husband quickly realizes that you're smiling at the baby cradled in your arms as you softly sing to him. That you seem genuinely happy. Crassus can't help, but to wonder if the only time you're happy and not sad is when you're spending time with Cassian.

“And the cat's in the cradle and the silver spoon. Little boy blue and the man in the moon.”, You softly sing, only to be interrupted by your husband's deep voice saying, “I think he's asleep and it's time for you to join me in bed, petal.”

Nodding, you stand while holding the baby close to your chest. The sight reminds your husband of a fierce lioness with her cubs. “Did you get your dinner from the oven?” You ask while bringing your baby over to his crib.

“No.” Crassus shakes his head. “I thought-” He began, only to be cut off by you flatly telling him, “You should eat before going to bed, Crassus.” Placing Cassian into his crib, you add in the rhetorical question of, “It wouldn't be good for the breadwinner of the house to get sick from malnutrition, now would it?”

Crassus assumes that you ate once Grandma'am and Coriolanus were done eating in the dining room, so he doesn't ask you to join him in the kitchen for his meal of leftovers. No, instead he just nods and tells you that he'll join you in bed once he's done eating.

And when he does join you in your shared bed, well, you're already fast asleep. So, he quietly joins you in bed- making sure not to disturb you. Like his mother said, you're a new mother whose world revolves around your son; you need as much rest as you can get.

But as he lays his platinum curls on his pillow, he realizes that you look peaceful in your sleep. He can't honestly say that he's even seen you look so content before.

And for some reason, unknown to him, he wanted to see that look of tranquility on your face during waking hours as well.

Leo Davis stepped off the elevator and went over to his desk. He was 15 minutes late, but he did have a very passionate night celebrating his anniversary with his wife last night. A celebration that started at dinner and ended in the bedroom of their modest apartment that they're paying too much rent for. And as soon as he sat down at his desk, the door to his boss's office flew open.

Oh no, was he in trouble for being late? Crassus was always in the office way before the official start time of 9 o’clock, so did he know that Leo just arrived? The secretary was scared to death of being fired for being late as he watched his boss emerge from his office. The imposing man, who was well over 6 feet tall, walked over to his employee’s desk with his coffee mug in hand.

Coming to a stop at Leo's desk, Crassus took a sip of his coffee and asked, “So, Leo, how was your anniversary with your wife last night?”

Leo Davis nearly choked on his own spit. Since when does the General Crassus Snow want to know about his personal life? The man was always shutting down all attempts at conversation that even remotely seemed to steer towards personal things, such as family. If it wasn't about work, a coffee, or a good order then Crassus didn't talk about it.

“Well, did you have a nice time?” Crassus asked as Leo just looked at him wide-eyed, like a deer caught in headlights.

“Oh, yes, yes, we had a nice time.” Leo nods, nearly tripping over his tongue as he answers his boss. Holy hell, he still doesn't believe what's happening. That his boss is asking him about the details of his anniversary.

Deciding to not look a gift horse in the mouth, the secretary smiles and tells his boss the details of his night. Well, the details that are safe for work that is.

“You should bring your wife to Palace Arms for your anniversary. You'll have to make a reservation and it's located in the Denver Palace Hotel, but it's worth it for a special occasion.” Leo advised his boss, just to be friendly. Perhaps being friendly will get him a lesser workload. Eh, wishful thinking never hurt anyone.

Nodding, Crassus simply says, “I'll keep that in mind.” He knows that since he didn't do anything with you to celebrate your last anniversary that the he'll have to make up for his lack of interest with the upcoming one. So, he truly means it when he says he'll keep the prospect of taking you to the Palace Arms for your next anniversary in mind.

Before seeing you crying in the corner of your shared bedroom, Crassus would never ask for marital advice- and from a lowly employee as well, but now all he wants is to make you happy. He wants you to stop crying so much; wants you to stop being sad. He also wants to know what to do to change things, so that's why Crassus straight up asks his secretary, “Leo, how do you make your wife happy?”

“What?” Leo asks, wide-eyed and taken aback. Did his boss really just ask him that?

“My wife's been sad lately and since you seem to be on good terms with your wife, I was wondering, how do you make your wife happy?” Crassus asks, explaining his previous question in length, before taking another sip of his coffee.

“Um, I suppose I make my wife happy just by doing the little things for her.” Leo answers while wishing he didn't accidentally leave his travel mug of coffee at home on the kitchen counter. He could really use some right now.

“What are the little things you do for her?” Crassus asks, clearly oblivious to what ‘the little things' means. The man was cold, stern, and indifferent by nature. He wasn't one to make gestures out of care of love. So, yes, he really has no idea what his secretary's talking about.

And that was the moment that Leo Davis knew he was doomed to be General Crassus Snow’s personal marriage counselor/advisor. Oh, how the stars seemed to play a cosmic joke on him, huh?

Tags: @kuroosbby001 @purriteen @poppyflower-22 @meetmeatyourworst @whipwhoops @bxtchopolis @readingthingsonhere @savagenctzen @ryswritingrecord @erikasurfer @tulips2715 @universal-s1ut @thesmutconnoisseur @squidscottjeans @sudek4l @wearemadeofstardust0 @mashiromochi @gracieroxzy @belcalis9503 @shari-berri @aoi-targaryen @whiteoakoak @spear-bearing-bi-witch @gisellesprettylies @loverandqueenofdragons @qoopeeya @mfnqueen1 @permanentlyexhaustedpigeon88 @v-love @swiftieblyth @joyfulyouthlover @princess-harvey @chxrrybomb22 @marvel-hiddles-stark @xjinnix @devils-blackrose @zombicupcake3 @jacesvelaryons @tempt-ress @nayveetbhh

[totaly-obsessed]

Falling

Mackenzie Arnold x reader

-> Reader and Macca's daughter watch her win 8-0, even if it is way too early

➳ Masterlist

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

Watching your wife play for her country would never bore you, not even when it was an 8 – 0 win and you barely get to see her on the screen. Your daughter, however, was bored. Isla had woken up bright and early as it was a Sunday. 

While you would travel the world for Mackenzie and her games, pulling Isla out of school was difficult, so you stayed home for the Asian Olympic Qualifiers – watching from home as well as you could. Kick-off was at 07:10 in the morning for the two of you in the UK, but the small blonde in your lap was Macca's good luck charm, so a short phone call before was mandatory. 

It was six in the morning when Isla started jumping on your bed. “Wake up! Wake up! Game time! Mo- Ahhh!” you had snatched her out of the air, cuddling her close to you. “Game time later baby, give your mommy some cuddles.” With all her might the brunette girl wrangled herself out of your hold, sitting herself down on your chest. “Call Mama?” With a defeated sigh you grabbed your phone from the bedside table, knowing that your daughter would not give in until she had talked to her mom. “Here baby, you call her.” 

The five-year-old knew just enough about phones, to know where she could call your wife and put it on speaker. Today the young girl decides to go for a Facetime tough at six in the morning – how nice. Especially when you had barely gotten any sleep, worrying about your wife. 

It rang a couple of times before Mackenzie picked up, being greeted by her daughter’s face, way too close to the camera. “Good morning Bubba! How’d ya sleep?” Excited noises left Isla’s lips as she saw her mom on a dark bus, she had pulled the curtains by her seat close, trying to concentrate. “Good Mama! You?” 

“I slept well babe, where is mommy?” Your child threw the phone at you before she slipped under the blanket, joining you in the warmth of it. “Oh, now you wanna cuddle, hmm?” Mackenzie watched with a fond smile as her carbon copy cuddled into your chest, with you holding the phone now, being able to see everything. 

“Hi, beautiful.” She would never get tired of how blushy you got, whenever she complimented you in such a vulnerable state – even after six years of marriage and a child. “Hi, baby. How are you?” 

With Isla nearly falling asleep on you, Macca and you quietly talked until the bus arrived at the stadium “Isla? Baby? I have to go now. Mama loves you, have fun!” A tired wave at the camera was all that she got, blowing you a kiss as well.  

After making coffee and cleaning up a little you pulled Isla to the couch, wrapping both of you in blankets and handing her a breakfast sandwich. “Is Mama going to play?” Just seconds later they showed the Tillies in the tunnel, Mackenzie in pink, a little girl holding her hand. 

“Oi! That’s my Mama!” You could not help but burst with laughter, the little girl appalled to see someone else holding her mother’s hand. “That is her Mascot baby. You were one as well, do you remember?” 

Isla had been a mascot plenty of times, for her mother, Sam, Steph, Caitlin, Alanna, and even Courtney when she had joined Leicester City. 

After the two of you had marveled at the dress the singer of the Philippines national anthem was wearing, it was time for the Australian anthem. As fast as she could Isla was out of the blankets, standing with a hand on her heart, belting the anthem with the singer on the TV. Sneakily you took a video of it, immediately sending it to Mackenzie who was laughing next to Sam, behind the singer. 

“Look there’s Auntie Lani! Oh and Stephy, And Cait!” The young girl could not help herself, stopping her singing and waving at her aunties instead. 

The stadium was filled, and your eyes could not help but tear up a little, seeing your wife stand there, making her country and family proud in front of so many people. “Where’s Mama?” Isla was now back at your side as she tried to find her mother’s pink kit in the colorful mix. But Mackenzie was nowhere to be seen as the rest of the Matilda’s tried to take the team picture, looking for her as well. The commentator explained that she had gone to warm up in goal, forgetting the picture - but she sprinted back just in time. 

Seconds before kick-off Isla sprinted off to her room, returning with bright blue hair ribbons and a hairbrush, wordlessly gesturing you to style her hair just like Raso’s. Once you were done you also sent a picture of that to your wife, knowing that she would show the girls everything that Isla did. 

Caitlin’s first shot on goal was saved by the keeper, Isla next to you restless in her seat. And just a few minutes later the Philippines had a long shot at goal, your daughter jumping up and down. “Get up Mama!” Mackenzie had fallen on her way to save the ball, but luckily it did not meet the back of the net. 

It was Mary Fowler who put the Matilda’s in front with a gorgeous goal in the 14th minute. That first goal set off a series of goals and by the end of the first half, the Matilda’s were leading with five goals. 

Isla however had dozed off as her excitement had lessened during the game. While she loved all of her aunties with all her heart, she was only watching for one person. Her Mama. But with such a lead and the Philippines’ not being a real threat Mackenzie was barely seen. Once or twice, she collected a loose ball, sending it back but otherwise, it was an entirely calm game for the goalkeeper. The second half brought three more goals and a hat trick for both Sam and Caitlin. 

With nothing else to do in the day you decided, to let the young girl sleep until Macca called, which was three hours later. She was back in the Team hotel, freshly showered and alone in her room. “There she is! My beautiful wife!” As expected, you blushed, hiding your face in a blanket on the couch. 

Isla apparently heard your phone ring, as she burst into the room, now fully awake. “Mama, you won!” Your wife could barely contain herself at the cute smile her daughter gave her – a smile that reminded her so much of you it was scary. “I did, Baby! Did you watch me?” 

Isla’s hair was a mess, the ribbon had nearly fallen out by this point. She had always been an aggressive sleeper. “I did, but I got bored.” Mackenzie could not help but laugh at the carelessness in her daughter’s voice. “Little Miss was asleep before halftime, huh?” 

“Huh! How mean of you! Such a mean Mommy didn’t even wake you up.” The small brunette that was jumping in her seat rolled her little eyes at her mother’s sarcasm, well accustomed to it by now. 

“You fell when the ball got to you, Mama.” Mackenzie was flabbergasted “So you fall asleep but that’s what you see?” The two of them bantered back and forth in true mother-daughter fashion, but you couldn’t help but admire them. 

And you were so happy to have them, so much fun in a home that you loved.