#ella thinks out loud | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

norrisjpg · 7 months ago

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TASTE … ʟɴ⁴

in which, lando calls off his arrangement with his best friend for a new girl — but all he can think of is her.

contains: a little bit of angst, lando with another girl (brief smut), smut; dom!lando, brief sub!lando, body worship, oral (f + m), fingering, face-sitting, squirting, p in v, unprotected sex, mentions of anal; a bit of fluff at the end.

lando norris x female character (ella ainsley)

... pretty morning streams of sunlight beamed through lando norris’ apartment windows — illuminating the blonde hair splayed on the right side of his bed. white sheets were tangled between two warm bodies, one with pinkish-red scratch marks littered down his back, and the other with light brown bruises squeezed into her hips.

who, you ask? these were the almost entwined bodies of lando norris and his best friend, ella ainsley. well, they weren't just best friends, they were something a little more - best friends with benefits, or best friends who used each other to burn off a few calories and release some pent up sexual desperation.

however, arrangements like these hardly ever end well - and it was the same for the case of lando and ella.

"morning." ella murmured as she noticed lando intently gazing at her in the early beams of light.

"morning pretty girl." he rasped, voice a little croaky as his eyes fluttered open and closed a few times. "sleep well?"

"as always." she smiled groggily, letting her eyes naturally close for a few seconds, before her gaze fell back to the brit practically on top of her. "you?"

"always when i'm with you." he breathed out, staring at her for a moment or two, before pulling his gaze away from and rolling over.

lando got out of bed with a large stretch, muscles in his back contorting as his shoulders rolled back, ella's eyes fixated on him - he was so gorgeous.

"breakfast?" he questioned, raising his eyebrows as he rubbed his eye with his knuckles — stood there in his black boxers and nothing else.

“mhm.” she nodded sleepily with a small smile.

now, these two seem very cuddly and lovey — don’t they? ella thought so too, so the events of the following week severely surprised and hurt her - a lot.

“i’m calling it off.” lando said as they sat in his car. "going on a date tomorrow night, sorry.”

his tone was blunt but soft — like he didn’t care but he did? men were so confusing.

“oh.” she said simply, blinking at him. “okay.”

originally, ella thought his message had been one of those messages, telling her to get ready to be picked up by him, but clearly not.

“what’s her name?” she asked, glancing over at him as she fiddled with her fingers in her lap.

“um… luna.” he nodded, the air in the car having now grown extremely thick.

“oh, okay.” ella replied quietly. “i look forward to meeting her.”

…

of course she didn’t look forward to meeting her.

ella spent the rest of the evening in her apartment, wondering what this meant for their friendship. surely there was no way of coming back from this - lando had ruined her for anyone else.

there was no way that anyone could compare to him, in a lot of ways. she thought it was completely impossible for anyone to make her see literal constellations on her ceiling, for anyone to make her cry the tears of torturous pleasure, for anyone to make her so loud.

lando’s date went quite well, luna was polite and nice, and pretty too. the two went back to her apartment — lando never brought girls back to his apartment, in fear of media and paparazzi.

her apartment was nice, he felt lost though. her hand led him to her bedroom immediately — this all felt a little wrong.

usually, with ella, she’d come round to his place, they’d have dinner, watch a movie, and let it happen naturally — this whole straight away thing felt a little forced.

she didn’t even bother kissing him, instead she was straight onto her knees and working at his dress pants roughly. was it bad he missed the feeling of someone’s lips all over his jaw and neck and collarbone and chest and abs? how softly her hands would undo his belt or untie the strings of his joggers? how she’d suck dark hickeys on his v-line as she tugged his clothes to the floor?

he wasn’t even hard. like, there was a little bit of blood rushing south but nowhere near enough to make him useful to her.

well, he wasn’t hard until her lips wrapped around him and descended down. she didn’t even gag. usually, well before ella, he would have found that so hot — but ella had the worst gag reflex on the planet, but she’d keep going nonetheless — gazing up at him as tears pricked the corners of her eyes.

“mhm.” he hummed as her tongue brushed over the sensitive slit at the tip of his cock.

it wasn’t her fault that she didn’t know what he liked — so he couldn’t complain.

she must have been on that floor for the best part of fifteen minutes? he was getting closer to something, maybe stimulation or something but it most definitely wasn’t an orgasm.

“come here.” he mumbled, pulling her up to him, pushing her back on the bed.

they weren’t even naked, yet he quickly spread her legs and pulled her underwear to the side. after quickly rolling a condom over himself, he ran his cock through her folds a few times, not really bothering to make sure she was properly lubed up as he would do usually — before pushing in.

it didn’t take her long to cum, maybe a few minutes? still, he didn’t cum, nevertheless he pulled out with a fake moan, slipping the condom off of him quickly and tossing it in the bin near him.

“that was… incredible.” she panted out, sitting up. “are you going to stay the night?”

“um.” he pursed his lips — quick, think of a lie. “sorry, i can’t, got to be up early for a team meeting.”

a team meeting, really? in the middle of the summer break?

…

for ella, it wasn't now the fact that when she had sex she didn't cum, it was the fact that she couldn't cum, full stop.

she'd even enlisted the help of her ex-boyfriend, jack. it was easy, really, ella had messaged him saying she missed him and asked if he wanted to come over.

surprise, surprise, he was of no use to her.

so, when a new week rolled around, both parties were distraught. lando for being such an idiot and calling off the deal, ella for not being able to cum no matter how hard she tried.

she was adamant that tonight was the night.

ella had even gone out and treated herself to some new lingerie — the prettiest deep blue matching bra and underwear from victoria’s secret.

she had to admit, she looked hot.

her delicate fingers shamefully ran down her tummy, squeezing the skin gently as the others toyed with her nipples.

usually, by now, she’d be writhing underneath lando and begging him for more — but he wasn’t here and neither was the pleasure he’d bring with him.

she imagined it was his veiny hands travelling down her body like a well-trained explorer, paying attention to the dips of her hips and the small bump of her v-line. it did something momentary for her, heat flushing down her inner thighs, but it quickly died along her chest after rolling up her tummy.

"fuck." she groaned, and not in a good way.

ella was about to reach to her bedside cabinet for one of her helpers, when a frantic knock echoed through her apartment — who on earth was at her door at seven on a sunday evening?

sluggishly, ella crawled out of bed, grabbing her dressing gown and wrapping it around her body.

knock-knock-knock-knock-knock!

"god, okay, i'm coming." she huffed as she walked toward the door.

and there he was — the subject of her torture and her desires.

"la-"

hands frantically cupped her cheeks, pressing a needy kiss to her lips — okay, this definitely wasn't something that they usually did. nevertheless, she melted into the kiss, her hands travelling to the back of his head as he walked them forward and kicked the door shut behind him.

she pulled away reluctantly — "woah, woah, woah. what are you doing here? i thought you called the deal off?"

"i did, i missed you." he nodded, going to lean in desperately again, but he was stopped by her index finger on his lips.

"what the fuck are you doing then?" ella raised her eyebrows, waiting for an answer from the brit.

"i like you, like a lot, ells." he blurted out. "like more than best friends."

what. the. fuck.

"huh." was all she could muster, blinking rapidly up at him.

"i mean if you don't feel the same i'll leave and we can—"

"no, no — just say it again so i know i'm not going insane." she shook her head, reassuring him that he wasn't about to be kicked out.

"ella ainsley, i like you, a lot."

"wow." her mouth hung slightly agape, and with a laugh, she continued, "oh! sorry, i like you too, so much."

"thank god." he breathed out, a small chuckle leaving his lips. "come here, pretty girl."

lando stepped forward and picked her up, wrapping her legs around his waist — she thought she could have actually cum from the action alone.

"be my girlfriend, please?"

"well, since you asked so nicely," she smiled with a blush. "yes, i will be your girlfriend, lando norris."

"good, 'cause i wasn't going to give you a choice anyway." he laughed softly, pressing another gentle peck to her lips as he navigated his way to her bedroom.

she rolled her eyes with a giggle, adjusting her arms around his neck as he walked through the doorway and toward her double bed. lando put her down on her feet, quickly undoing the bow at the front of her dressing gown — expecting her to be in pyjamas underneath or something.

his jaw hit the floor along with the robe — she looked fucking divine.

"fucking hell." he breathed out with a low groan, drinking in her body under the lace set — blue always was one of his favourite colours. "jesus ells."

"you like it?" she asked, the most innocent look in her eyes.

"fucking love it." he rasped, gently shoving her back onto the bed and taking his shirt off immediately. "look gorgeous."

an adorable blush spread across her features and a smile painted itself across her lips.

immediately, he leant down and pressed hot, open-mouthed kisses to her neck, trailing down to her chest — tapping her side and mumbling, "up," prompting her to arch up her back so he could undo her bra.

lando expertly unclasped the mechanism and slid the material off of her body, tossing it to the side. soft moans left her lips as he attached his lips to one of her nipples, swirling his tongue around the sensitive bud. two of his fingers travelled up to her mouth, tapping at her lips softly so he could slide his digits in.

she welcomed them warmly, sucking on them softly as he pressed them against her tongue. lando then quickly pulled them out with a low groan, and brought said fingers down to her other nipple, pinching and softly rolling it in between his fingers.

"please." ella whined as heat fizzed and bubbled all over her body.

"hm, what was that?" lando teased, looking directly up at her with a small smirk.

"lando.." she groaned with a small laugh. "just get on with it."

"how romantic." he joked, letting his now free hand travel down to her abdomen.

he hooked his fingers under the waistband of her underwear and pulled it up, letting it snap back against her tummy. lando watched the dazed look in her eyes as he shuffled downward, letting his lips press soft kisses on her stomach along the way — before latching his teeth onto her panties and slowly pulling them down.

god, he was a sight for sore eyes.

lando quickly then pulled them off the rest of the way, and spread her legs wide open before him. ella thought she had ascended to heaven when he gently let his spit find its way to her pussy, lubing her to no end.

he was merciless, giving her no warning at all before his tongue was aggressively flicking at her clit and two of his thick fingers were stuffed deep inside of her, finding that spongey spot that drove her wild.

"lando... fuck." she moaned loudly, trying to close her legs around his head, but failing when they fell weak upon feeling his spare hand pressing down on her lower stomach. "god... yes!"

he murmured something incoherently hot into her folds, the vibrations causing the magic knot in her stomach to coil nice and tight.

it was like heaven on earth. his lips sucked at her clit messily and the most lewd sounds were emerging from her due to her wetness and lando's extra lube — god, he loved it.

"lan—" she whimpered, she fucking whimpered; lando could have died in her pussy a happy man right there and then.

her mind flashed with warm colours, like warning lights in a factory — something was different about how he felt, and it was sending her barrelling toward her first orgasm of the evening.

"fuck, ells." lando groaned into her when her hand needily grabbed at his hair, running her nails through his mullet — she was definitely a mullet fan now.

"god — so close." ella whined so desperately, so loudly.

lando knew what made her tick — always had, always would. so, it was natural for him when he gently squeezed her clit between his teeth and scissored his fingers apart just that little bit harder — and it was no surprise to him when she fucking fluttered around him, her inner walls shaking violently as she came all over his fingers.

he pulled them out quickly, replacing his fingers with his tongue so he could taste the remnants of her ecstasy — so fucking sweet.

"taste so good, baby." he mumbled as he licked a stripe up her cunt.

her hips bucked away from his mouth, but his arms held her firmly downward — "hey, let me taste you, ells."

"too much." she breathed out, not really meaning it, but she felt so sensitive right now it was insane. "let me make you feel good, yeah?"

the words coming from her mouth made lando's head shoot up and look at her from between her thighs — "don't worry about me, darling."

"no, no." she shook her head. "i want to — missed your cock in my mouth." ella felt strange saying such lewd things but she could tell it was definitely turning lando on.

"oh yeah?" he teased. "missed me in your mouth?"

"yeah, always turns me on." she nodded quickly, sitting up. "on the bed, lan."

lando, for once, did as he was told. he sat on the bed as she got to her knees as quickly as possible.

he was wearing these baggy blue jeans with a basic black belt — ella's favourite pair because they were so easy to undo, even when she had nails on.

she undid the buckle and unbuttoned the jeans, before yanking them down his legs and let them pool at his ankles — too eager to throw them to the side.

ella took his cock in her hand, tracing her finger up the prominent vein on the underside of his shaft, earning a shudder from the driver above her. on the other hand, ella also knew what made lando tick, she knew he was a sucker for eye contact, that he would melt when she praised him, and the slit of his cock and his tip? she was sure she could get him to come without even touching any other part of him.

after sliding the pad of her thumb over his sensitive tip, and making his hips stutter up into her hand, ella got to work. as soon as her lips wrapped around his tip, lando's hand had gathered her hair back into a makeshift ponytail and was tightly holding it. she always did this, and it never failed — as if it was a routine; tease him by sucking on his tip for a little, then kiss his cock all over while muttering praises to him, and then literally go to fucking town on him while gazing up at him with pretty doe eyes — worked every fucking time.

so that's what she did.

"fucking hell, ells." lando moaned lowly as her tongue swirled around his tip, swiping over his slit every now and again.

she kept going until he was whining and whimpering, bucking his hips away from oversensitivity even though he hadn't cum yet. she then leant down and ran her tongue from the base to tip, before leaving messy lip gloss stains up his cock.

"good boy." she praised softly as he whined out, biting his lower lip and tossing his head back. "such a pretty boy."

"god—" he whimpered loudly. "fucking hell, baby, don't stop."

she pretended as if she was going to keep going, sticking her tongue out to lick him again, before quickly lifting her head up and sinking him slowly into her mouth.

her gag reflex kicked in around halfway down his cock, her throat convulsing and fluttering around him as he hit her tonsils — but she didn't care. tears pricked at the corners of her eyes as she began to bob her head, fast.

"god...” lando groaned, head tossed back and hand gripping her hair so tightly as he began to thrust softly up into her mouth. "ella..."

it was so good he couldn't even look at her — he knew that if he looked at the angel between his legs then he was a dead man.

and boy was he right.

a brief look at the woman on her knees with her mouth wrapped around his aching cock was enough to make him spiral — a guttural groan left his lips and his hips bucked up into her mouth, the feeling of his tip hitting the back of her throat making thick ropes of hot cum spill into her mouth, coating her tonsils generously.

"fuck, ells." lando panted heavily, wiping a small bit of his release off of the side of her mouth — before pushing it into her mouth again.

he went soft for a few seconds, but the sight of her getting up and sitting on his lap? that made all the blood rush straight back to his cock, aching and twitching.

"no, no." he tutted.

with his strength alone, he lifted her from his lap and laid himself down on the bed, putting her down on his face. ella almost yelped at the feeling of his nose pressing against her clit, her hips lifting off of him immediately.

"sensitive, baby?" he teased, hands squeezing her ass firmly — earning a quick nod. "what a shame."

lando's hands stayed planted firmly on her ass cheeks, kneeding them softly as he pulled her back down onto his face. his nose pressed against her clit as his tongue slipped inside of her, swirling around her walls — her thighs clenched around his head harshly.

slowly but surely, the sensitivity faded to overwhelming pleasure, and ella began to grind her hips back and fourth, whiny, airy moans leaving her lips every time her clit was poked by his nose.

"fuck—" she moaned loudly, frantically searching for purchase with her hands, finally finding home in his hair. "lando... yes—"

it was when her thighs began to clench and shake, when her walls began to flutter around his tongue, when her hands grabbed extra hard at his hair, when her moans turned airy and high-pitched — he knew.

the feeling of his nose grinding against her clit sent her over the edge, combined with his conveniently long tongue pressing against her g-spot — she was well and truly gone.

“yeah — right there. fuck!”

lando didn’t let up at all, if anything, his efforts doubled. his nose dug into her clit, sending her flying over the edge. the warm liquid gushed out of her, coating his lips and nose and cheeks and chin — he relished the moment like it was his last alive. her legs trembled and shook like a fucking earthquake, his nose now tapping against her sensitive spots as she bucked her hips from oversensitivity.

"god—" ella panted out, lando moving her back onto his lap, before then flipping her over so her perfect ass was high up in the air for him.

he could see her pretty entrance clenching and relaxing, fluttering in the harsh aftershocks of her orgasm — drawing him in.

"gonna let me have this one day, aren't you, pretty girl?" lando cooed, his voice soft but raspy, with his thumb toying with the untouched hole enticing him — anal was something he'd always wanted to try with ella, and ella only.

"yeah — uh huh." she babbled, her hips voluntarily pushing back toward him, now feeling incredibly empty without him stuffed deep inside of her, one way or another. "please."

"give me a second, baby." he rasped, leaning over to her bedside cabinet to grab a condom — only for her hand to swat his away.

"no, want to feel you properly." ella whined. "need to."

"are you sure, ells?" lando asked quietly — they'd never had sex without a condom before.

"i'm sure." she replied, looking back at him, blinking at the driver in anticipation.

lando actually thought he could have died right there and then, her begging was driving him insane. "okay." he panted out.

he softly presses forward, running the tip of his aching cock through her folds — his member pressing against her clit briefly. lando groaned out at the feeling of his sensitive tip sliding inside of her, feeling whole and complete and at home inside her.

no time was wasted, he was pumping in and out of her almost immediately, tapping her g-spot delicately to taunt her.

she whined and whimpered and writhed underneath him, moaning incoherently as he fucked her senseless. her hips pushed back against him to meet his steady thrusts - he immediately knew that meant she wanted it harder, but not faster.

lando quickly altered the angle at which he was pushing forward at, and he could straight away tell that was what she needed. his thick cock was now slamming against her g-spot, and it made him even more determined to ruin her. a veiny hand reached between her legs, flicking effortlessly at her clit, her hips jolting and legs buckling as his thumb circled it quickly. he wanted to make her fall apart.

not that he could see it, but tears were streaming down her face, moans turning needier and more carnal as he started to whimper louder than he was previously.

"touch yourself, baby." he commanded, voice sultry and low.

her hand made its way to her dripping pussy, rubbing shapes and patterns on her clit, as lando's hand occupied itself with pressing down on her lower stomach.

one particularly deep thrust made her collapse, ella's lower body begging to be released, but the singular hand lando had placed on her stomach kept her up, doubling the size of the knot in her tummy in the process.

his name fell from her lips like a fucking prayer, rolling off of her tongue with such ease it might as well have been an everyday item - mixed with whines of 'right there' and 'don't stop, please.'

and fall apart she did.

another one of those impossibly deep thrusts sent her spiralling, tears streaming, throat raw, pussy clenching like her life depended on it. her whole body tensed and relaxed all at the same time, walls constricting around him, fluttering and shaking and squeezing so intensely lando though he was actually going to die.

he didn't die, but he did cum - hard. hot, thick liquid shot out of his tip, filling her up so much it began to leak out of her, dripping down her inner thighs as her legs shook harshly. he kept thrusting though his own orgasm, somehow, causing the familiar clear liquid to gush from her sensitive pussy and coat his balls, her legs, the once clean sheets - if he could take a photo, he would.

he pulled out as slowly as he could, very much aware of the fact that she would be sore after that entire ordeal. she winced softly, but lando just gazed down at her puckered hole, screaming and red, fluttering and unsure of what to do with itself without him stuffed inside.

"you okay, baby?" lando asked softly, rolling her onto her back gently.

"fuck- yeah... god." she babbled, breathless and heaving slightly.

he laughed airly, leaning down to press a kiss to her forehead. he headed to the bathroom, and she closed her eyes. the next thing ella knew, a warm flannel was being pressed in between her legs, and her hips were involuntarily bucking away from the pressure.

"hey, hey, stay still, okay?" he quietly cooed, rubbing her inner thigh lovingly. "can you do that for me?"

an unsure hum left her lips, and after a few attempts, her body began to settle and lando continued to clean her up, wiping the remnants of their mixed release off of her body, and then afterward he scurried back off to the bathroom to do the same for himself.

lando returned again a few minutes later, holding a change of clothes and a glass of water for her - having now gotten dressed into some spare clothes he kept at her apartment.

"ells?" he murmured as he sat down next to her splayed out body on the bed. "i've got you some clothes, if you want them?"

she nodded, lifting her arms up into the air so she could put her arms through the t-shirt. she never let him dress her afterward, she must have been really out of it.

lando laughed fondly, helping the girl dress before assisting her into bed, tucking her in before crawling in next to her. it was natural for her to roll into his arms, and when she did, lando naturally pulled her in closer, pressing a gentle kiss to her cheek.

"night, lan." she mumbled.

"goodnight, love."

#formula one #fanfiction #f1 fanfic #formula 1 #lando norris smut #lando norris one shot #lando norris #f1 2024 #lando norris x oc #lando norris x reader #lando norris x you #lando norris x y/n #whorelandonorris

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mediumgayitalian · 1 month ago

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Hazel thinks she hates New York.

It’s not Camp Half-Blood. She likes Camp Half-Blood, actually, likes the sweet-smelling strawberry fields, the rolling waves in the distance, the way every colour, every conversation or moment, just seems more. Louder, livelier. It’s only been a couple days but she’s fond of the place, even though the people are odd and the customs odder (seriously — who came up with the curfew harpies? Hazel is no stranger to demigod structural violence, but a group of demonic bird ladies let loose at a random time of “after the sun sets, usually” to kill and devour children and teens is a new level of weird even for her. Percy assures her that the harpy murder is alleged, as he has spent several summers in camp and has not seen it happen, but he is also an amnesiac and an enabler so what does he know).

It’s the stars, she thinks.

New York doesn’t seem to have any.

It was a shock when she was first brought back. How dim the night sky had become, how devoid, bereft. Uranus’ dome now pales in comparison to the dazzling Alaskan skies decades ago, even in New Rome, huddled away from California’s worst light pollution. Even in the middle of the Pacific, in quiet midnights aboard the Argo II, the sky seemed lonelier. She’s gotten used to it, for the most part, the tar-coloured skies, but New York is like the inkwells on the desk she shared with Sammy. They spilled them, constantly, clumsy hands taking the slap of the ruler in exchange for tapping fingers and quiet giggles, and the dark-stained woodgrain is a perfect amalgamation of the skies she watches now; stifling over the screened tent roof, silent as a packed grave. Unsettling.

She should be sleeping. Gwen’s snores beside her are familiar, and the ground is solid. A welcome reprieve from the months she’s spent at sea. But despite the exhaustion twisting in her limbs and bagging under her eyes, she cannot convince herself to drift. Her eyes remain stubbornly open, locked in with the stillborn sky, waiting, waiting, waiting.

Even the moon is dull.

Finally she can take it no longer. Careful not to wake her friend, she creeps out of her sleeping bag, wiggling out over the course of several minutes to avoid the loud rip of the zipper, The tent’s door she can’t muffle, so she opens it as quickly as possible, somersaulting out and zipping it shut behind her in under ten seconds. She holds her breath, hands braced on the taut plastic, straining to hear a shift, a sniffle, a snort of disruption, but there’s nothing. Gwen remains blissfully unconscious, snores steady and even. Good.

Sword firmly in her hands, watching warily for demonic chicken ladies (who are nowhere as sweet or cool as Ella, awful cousins are universal among species it seems) or whatever other horrible ‘features’ Camp Half-Blood forgot to mention to them, she picks her way out of the Roman encampment, through the strawberry fields, and towards the main.

It’s around three in the morning, she’s pretty sure. She can’t be certain, because she cannot see the sky, but she’s always had a knack for navigating the dark. Nico can, too. Perks of being an Underworld child, she supposes.

Hopefully Nico is asleep. (She replaced his cabin door with a solid brick of obsidian to force him to sleep, yesterday, so he better be, but he’s a slippery little brat and she does not doubt his ability to squeeze through the air vents she left for him, or something. His hair was probably greasy enough to slide him right through. He better have showered, or she is going to smack him. Hard.) If he isn’t, though, she wouldn’t mind his company. She is in the mood to complain about the modern world. And if he is, maybe she’ll go wake up Percy. Or wander around until the sun rises. Who knows.

She notices, as she wanders along the edge of the wonky cabin-omega, movement coming from the Big House. Most of the windows are dark, but the bottom floor on the left — the infirmary, she thinks — is dimly lit, conscientious of the late hour, and there is definitely someone moving around. She pauses, watching for a moment, and — yep. A blond boy, every couple of minutes, rushes past a window, stethoscope bouncing off his chest, new thing in his hands with every trip.

He seems harried.

Without much thought, Hazel pushes through the rickety screen door.

At first, he doesn’t seem to notice. Hazel is camouflaged, slightly, but the shadows, her black bonnet and dark sleep clothes blending in with the many shadows cast by shelves of equipment and gently swaying privacy curtains. The boy is busy, flitting from cot to cot, scribbling on charts and tripping over chords. He moves so quickly he is blurry, hard to focus on. It takes him almost a minute to stop, freezing in the dead centre of the overcrowded infirmary, and turn to face Hazel. He is tired, she notices. His eyes are darker than the bruises under them; glassy like black labradorite, and widen as they notice her.

“Oh my gods, you’re — you’re Hazel Levesque! Holy moly.”

“Hi,” she says, smiling slightly. “You look busy for this time of night.”

The boy waves a hand, returning to his fluttering — a little slower, this time, though. Less frantic.

“Oh, yes, well. Lots of things to do. Julia’s collarbone was totally shattered, have to keep monitoring that, and there’s a group who got drop kicked into a broken onager, their recovery concerns me, and we’re rationing nectar again, and I swear I’m always running out of bandages, and I keep getting that niggling feeling, you know, when — you’re forgetting something? Important? But of course you have no idea what, and — I’m sorry.” The boy twitches, freezing midway through changing an empty saline bag, glancing back over at her. “Oh my gods, are you injured? Fuck, of course you are, it’s the middle of the night and you’re here, obviously —”

“Wait, I'm completely —”

“Oh, no, you’re fine.” He sighs, a full bodied thing, and turns his attention back to the chart in his hands. “You’ve got an old riding injury ‘round your left patella, though. You should get that checked out.”

Hazel blinks.

She…does have an old knee injury.

It was a riding accident, when she was nine. She doesn’t remember much, only flying, warm wind kissing along her face, bubbling out of her lungs as she laughed and whooped and forgot who she was, what she was, forgot the stones popping up behind her. They couldn’t catch her anyways. And she remembers falling, wind at her back, instead, and she remembers Sammy’s face, and the panic that clouded it, and her mother’s shouting. She remembers cold marble and an oil-slick voice and cool hands on her forehead.

She blinks, shaking her head slightly. The blond boy has moved past her, now, pacing up and down the rickety cots, trailing his long fingers over bandaged foreheads and crooked elbows. His mouth moves softly and silently, hands glowing along, shoulder sagging, slightly, with every person he visits.

“You’re exhausted,” she observes.

The boy smiles slightly, finishing a whispered hymn before turning her way. “Who isn’t?” His fingers twitch, in absence of a task, and start picking at the bandage around his wrist, wrapping, unwrapping, wrapping, unwrapping. “Is your knee bothering you? Unhealed injuries last longer for demigods. Especially after battle. Something about unsettled scores, I don’t know. The concept pisses me off so I refuse to entertain it on principle, but I can ease the pain if you like.”

Her knee does twinge, actually. It’s a damp kind of ache, like a headache in a rainstorm, but it's old and familiar, and hardly even registers. It smarts far less than her heart, anyway.

Gaea’s gone.

So is Leo.

Leo is gone.

She swallows. “I’m okay. I’m used to it.”

“Three years ago, a man named Michael Moylon went to the ER for a ‘headache’ he’d been ignoring. Turns out he was shot in the head but was used to the pain, so he didn’t bother.” The boy stands starighter, scolding hands on his hips. Hazel stares at him. “So.” He pats a padded bench with a papery cover over the seat. “Let me take a look.”

…Camp Half-Blood will always be, Hazel thinks, a strange, strange place, with strange, strange people. It’s hard to believe she once thought the Apollo-descendants of Camp Jupiter oddities; it’s hard to believe she once found anyone odd. Even outside of Camp Half-Blood.

Gods, child-eating harpies. She really can’t get over it.

The medic wastes no time. The second she forces her feet to move, settling in on the cot, he is in action, tapping her pant leg gently so she rolls it up – which she does, flushing red and pretending not to see his bit-back smile – and prodding gently at the area, humming to himself.

“Jeez,” he murmurs, pushing the tip of her kneecap with his thumb until she winces. “You shattered the whole bone!”

“There is no way you could possibly know that,” she argues. “I broke it – gods, I broke it ninety years ago, almost. And it healed.”

“It healed ish,” the medic corrects. “By ish I mean maybe someone tied a bandage on it and you were on crutches for a week.”

Hazel has seen a grand many things, even for a demigod. She has faced Titans. She has faced Giants. She has won, in all of these fights, she has held fallen comrades, she has wept for them, she has wept for decades, cursing and loving her mother in equal measure. She has stood her ground in front of six of the most powerful demigods to ever walk the Earth and defended her brother. She has faced off her own Father, even, and the broken power behind his eyes. She has bent the Mist to her will. She has bent the Earth to her will. It is not cocky to say she is strong, it is not arrogant to claim she has seen all there is to have seen.

Still, the small pop of her gaping mouth echoes in the quiet, midnight infirmary, and the boy smiles, sideways and crooked, and shoots her a wink.

“I could tell you how often someone two hundred thousand years ago ate shellfish by looking at a fossilized tooth. Believe me, I know what a shattered patella looks like.”

Modern medicine is a wild thing. Hazel has found that a lot of her friends in modern times have no idea how good they have it, and how wildly medicinal science has progressed in the last century. Aside from machinery and accurate devices, the pure knowledge that is widely available is mind-blowing. Hazel still remembers the looks she got when recommending calomel to a stressed out mother of a colicky baby in a cafe – it’s not like she knew mercury was poisonous. She remembers dosing out her mother’s calomel solutions for her deepest depressions.

Still. There is a difference between modern medicine and near-divining her past with the barest touch of a bone through layers of skin and fat and muscle.

The boy hovers wide, scarred hands over her knees, waiting for her nod. As he rests his palm on her skin she sighs, quick and startled like the quick collapse of a carnival tent; the bright, clear heat of his hands sinks into the pores of her skin and settles deep inside her brittle bones, warming a cold she hadn’t realised she’d been harboring. He begins to sing, under his breath, first, but slowly swelling with the night breeze through the open windows, swirling around the climbing plants hanging from the ceiling and weaving through the stone fountain in the room’s corner, pulling her lingering pain away with it. Hazel watches, wide-eyed, as the shadows take shape, chasing the song, of a horse, red-eyed and panicked, and a small little wisp of a thing, weak and limp. With every lilting note, the shadows get softer, and softer, and softer, until they wash away in the fountain’s stream.

In the silence there is the warmth of the medic’s hand still on her knee. In the silence there is that same warmth, liquid, slowly pushing its way through her veins and blood, settling curled and tired in the marrow of her bones. In the silence there is, for the first time in nearly a century, a stillness, a total lack of the low, pulsating, ice-cold pain that has been quietly pushing from her knee for longer than it hasn’t.

“Can everybody do that here?” she asks, finally, breathlessly. “Or just you?”

Hazel makes no habit of the infirmary in Camp Jupiter, but biannual check-ups are mandatory and she is not immune to injury. Still. This is a relief unlike she has ever felt.

The waves his hand, pulling back, and grins. “I take it you feel better?”

She answers honestly. “I don’t think I’ve ever felt better in my life.”

There is an ache, still, home in the dead centre of her chest, a lump still growing in the back of her through, and should she think too long, her eyes sting. But Leo is not…Leo is missing. And he is troublesome, like his great-grandfather, and slippery, and she has more faith in her friend than in Death. The ache is not overwhelming. The ache is tinged with something spiked and fiery, fueled by the genuine strength she feels in her body for perhaps the first time in my life.

“Good.”

The medic twitches, slightly, as if he were about to reach out but thought better of it. He nods, instead, smiling, and walks back off to the end of the cots, where a monitor is beeping softly. This time, Hazel follows him, sliding off the bench and peeling the crinkling paper off her backside, stepping nimbly over taped-down cords and kicked-off blankets. She stands behind him, on her tiptoes, straining over his (too tall. People should stop growing after five-ten, she believes, except Frank who is an exception because he is cute) shoulders to watch what he is doing. He explains, around another muffled smile, each number and symbol, pointing to the freshly bandaged chest of the patient and muttering about reckless, thought-averse fools and internal bleeding isn’t real, nyeh nyeh nyeh and when I finally go insane and quit, they will have to beg for six business years to get me back I mean it.

“Are the other medics this…” Hm. Unprofessional is probably not the word to use, here. “...Spirited?”

The boy raises a perfectly-shaped eyebrow. Hazel flushes.

“The other medics are eleven and thirteen,” he says dryly. “And Kayla is currently over there –” he points to a snoring girl with dyed-green hair, who is bandaged in six different places and is sleeping upside down – “because she makes bad choices and has been demoted to assistant until I’m less mad at her, so.” He shrugs. “Spirited is what y’all get.”

“I didn’t mean to offend,” she tries. The boy just snorts.

“Y’r’gonna havta try a whole heap harder to offend me, that’s for damn certain,” he assures. “If I was really gonna quit, I woulda done it two years ago when they slapped the head honcho badge on my shoulder and told me to get crackin’.”

Hazel stills. Demigod life is a – wild thing, she knows, and most have not lived as long as she has, ageing like amber in the depths of the Underworld while the world stretches on ahead. Percy’s face when he realized demigods could live longer than eighteen still haunts her nightmares. Camp Half-Blood is a loud, lively place, that burns brightly over its layers of ashes and yells over the sound of weeping ghosts left behind. That much she can gather. It should not be strange to her for an eleven-year-old medic, or an army of teenagers. Her own camp is guarded by an eight-year-old.

But this boy still has stubborn baby fat clinging to his cheeks, for all his height. He cannot be more than fourteen. Fifteen, if she stretches.

The youngest head medics at Camp Jupiter are twenty-two. Regardless of demigod life, skills take time to learn, and stomachs and hearts take years to turn to stone.

“I’m – sorry,” the boy says, voice crackling like burning pyres. “I’m –” he forces a smile, a quick, strained thing – “I am, uh, spirited. Unprofessional. I haven’t slept in several days and I’m – uh, I don’t like working Austin too hard. He’s still learning, and he doesn’t like healing much, anyway.” He busies himself quickly with the patient he pointed out earlier – Kayla, the thirteen-year-old medic. It is quickly apparent that there is nothing to be done for her, and he stands there, back turned to Hazel, scarred hands twitching above her forehead until they settle, finally, featherlight, like he’s scared a touch will wake her. Like he’s scared a touch will hurt her.

His shoulders shake, slightly. It’s too dark for anyone else to see the twin droplets, splattering on the corner of her cot.

Hazel’s chest smarts something awful.

“Where are the other medics?”

She knows there are none before he answers. He must know that she knows, judging the careful steadiness of her voice, the fleeting touch of her finger on his clenched fist. She pulls back when his hands begin to shake, worse than before, and his finger worms under the bandages on his wrist, pulling and twisting, twisting, twisting. He stands close to Kayla, still. Hovering, careful. His lips part, and Hazel holds her breath.

“There were more of us,” he begins, hushed. His dark eyes track Kayla’s snoring. “I was the thirteenth. They were –” He looks up, suddenly, looks over, and the look in his eyes is like cracking ice, like a glacier that has stood for thousands of years breaking finally into the arctic sea and falling under its own weight to the sandy floor. Like the fractured flash of sky between lightning, like the azure glass shards of a Christmas ornament refracting back the twinkling candlelight. “It was so loud in here, once.”

Hazel tries to reconcile that, in her head. This boy standing at the edge of his younger sister’s hospital bed, his younger brother tucked safely away, awake for maybe the fourth or fifth day in a row. I was the thirteenth.

Hazel knows a little something about unlucky number thirteen.

“War?” she asks, quietly, remembering something Jason had told her, on guard on the Argo, about a Titan’s battle on two sides of the country. About an army of snake-monsters for them, and something on the other end. Something worse.

“Slaughtered,” the medic says hoarsely. Another tear traces the path of the first, low light flashing off the sheen of it. “First the – first my sisters, the oldest, then my brother, then – all of them, at once, at the same –” He chokes, on something, on the truth of it or the pain of it or both. Something bubbles in Hazel’s chest, thick and oily, something like horror and pain and hatred; a pit of the same tar that killed her the first time bubbling through her veins and burning the back of her throat. Twelve children. Her throat dries.

“All of them?”

“Every last fucking one,” says the boy, and the pain swells from him so thickly and ardently Hazel is half-sure each ghost is standing behind her, boring into his gaze. “Every last one. I watched them.”

Hazel watched. She held her eyes open for as long as she could when the tar swallowed them, when Gaea dragged them down. Her mother’s kiss burned hotter on her forehead than the boil of the earth exploding around them, and the shine of Marie Levesque’s guilty tears glittered brighter than the diamonds popping like falling stars everywhere Hazel touched. She held her eyes open until the heat dried them blind. She watched, as long as she could, her prodigal mother sink, her beautiful, broken mother die. She had thought she would feel something worse, something like satisfaction. Vindication. Nico told her they hold grudges. She had known it about herself before then. But the pain of her body ripping from her soul was secondary to the pain of realizing, to the pain of finally understanding that her mother suffered, too. Pluto’s wanting had cost them both, and Marie had only barely been able to apologize. She had never been able to make amends. And now she walked, like all souls do, along the beaten paths of Asphodel, reduced to her guilt, to her anger, to her wanting.

Hazel sits heavily on the one remaining cot. After a moment, the boy joins her.

“I don’t think it’s worth it,” he admits, quietly. He meets her eyes when she faces him, blue-black in the candlelight. “All – this.”

She follows his gesturing hands. To the bandaged girl, Kayla, to the bloodied, to the sheets pulled over small faces. To the brothers and sisters slumped exhausted by bedsights, tear tracks dried on young faces. To the faded pictures rubbed worn with mourning, gentle fingers.

They have never been thanked by the gods.

She’s not sure it would be worth it, either.

“There’s nothing that will bring them back.”

It’s not consolation. It doesn’t sound like it, either; to her own ears it sounds defeated. Agreeing.

“Do you think they’d even want to be back?”

“Probably not.” She swallows, thinking of Leo. Is he relieved? He’d insisted on being the sacrifice. She hadn’t fought him. She couldn’t blame him for wanting. “I wouldn’t.”

They sit in the non-silence. The medic pulls the bandages on his wrists until they are bruising; Hazel’s fingernails, unbidden, reach up to her lips, pick, pick, picking until salted iron dribbles down her chin, onto her pajama shirt. In the heavy stillness of the twilight there are people coughing, and snoring, and worse, moaning, groaning. Crying. Calling out for their mothers, for their sisters. Birds wail outside the open windows. Cicadas weep. Dryads murmur amongst themselves, sap dripping out of them in swathes.

“I know you’re a big-shot Prophecy of the Seven kid,” says the medic, smiling wryly at her. He sniffles, swiping a hand over his face; as the first rays of sunlight begin to stream in Hazel realizes he is spattered with a night sky’s worth of freckles. “But, uh. If you’re not busy, I could use a hand today. Every day, really. Whenever you’re free.” He exhales. "Sometimes it makes it a little bit worth it."

There is a veritable library’s worth of to-do lists for Hazel to work through tomorrow. Today. She’s a high enough rank that her presence and her direction will be missed.

Regardless, she smiles back.

“Yeah.” She reaches for his hand, and he releases his bandages, holding their palms together. “Yeah, I’ll hang out in here today.”

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alotofpockets · 7 months ago

Text

Co-captains | Leah Williamson x Lionesses!Reader

Where your teammates try to get you with someone at the World Cup to make Leah jealous

Woso masterlist | Words: 1.7k

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While representing your country was always an honour, especially at the World Cup, it felt different this time around. Ever since you were thirteen you had represented England with your best friend Leah, but this year she wouldn’t be there with you.

Leah had done her ACL a few months before the World Cup, everyone was devastated for her. The injury in itself was horrible, but to have it happen right before a big tournament like the World Cup made it even worse.

Besides being best friends, you had also been co-captains for your country the past couple of years. Doing this tournament without her felt wrong, but you knew you had to step up and make her proud.

The team had definitely noticed your mood during your training sessions in Australia. You were very grateful to be a part of the team, but not having Leah there to do it with you kept playing over and over in your head.

“Missing Leah?” Keira asked as she sat down next to you in the hotel lobby. “Yeah, I wish she was here with us.” A playful smirk formed on Keira’s face. “What?” You asked with your brows furrowed. “Oh nothing, but if I were you I’d turn around.” You had no idea what was going on, but you turned around like she said.

“Lee!” You quickly stood up when you saw your best friend walk through the doors. “You’re here!” With a couple steps you had reached her and wrapped your arms around her. “I’m here.” She whispered.

“I can’t believe you’re really here.” You hadn’t smiled this much since you had gotten to Australia. “You didn’t think I was gonna sit this one out completely, did you?”

You let Leah greet the rest of the girls, and hugged her brother Jacob who had been filming the whole thing. “Jakey, I saw you a few days ago, how could you not have told me?” The first day you had landed in Australia, you had gone to visit Leah’s brother. The two of you had talked about the World Cup, and Leah’s wellbeing, and yet he hadn’t said a word about this surprise. He playfully shrugs his shoulders. “What would have been the fun in ruining the surprise?”

The rest of the day was filled with laughter and excitement. Leah joined you at training, while she wasn’t playing, she was a captain at heart and had plenty to say to prepare her team for the upcoming games.

After training you all gathered in the common room of the hotel, you sat down between Ella and Jordan. The room filled with a mix of conversations about everything and nothing. Leah was sitting across the room from you, and every now and again your eyes would fall on her. A small smile playing at your lips when she would look your way as well.

“Look at them,” Alessia said softly enough for only Ella to hear. “They’re such idiots.” Ella followed her best friend’s eyes between you and Leah, “Completely clueless.” Alessia nodded in agreement, “We’ve really got to do something about that.”

An idea formed in Ella’s mind and a smirk grew on her face. “I’ve got an idea.” She turned back towards you. She spoke loud enough for all of the team to hear this time. “So, y/n, it’s been ages since you’ve been on a date, hasn’t it?”

The question took you off guard, seemingly coming out of nowhere. “Eh, I guess so. What does that have to do with anything?” You felt watched by everyone on the team and suddenly you grew nervous.

“Oh, I was just thinking that we could help you out. There are so many good looking players at this tournament, there must be one that has caught your eye, right?” Your cheeks flushed as the intensity of the eyes on you grew stronger. “Oh, eh, I don’t know. I’ve just been focussed on football.”

Your eyes darted to Leah, silently asking for help. She was sitting back in her chair, looking nonchalantly, but for a second you thought you saw a flicker of sadness in her eyes. Before you could think about it further Jordan chimed in on the conversation.

“Oh come on, there must be someone. Name one player you think is fit.” You felt put on the spot, so you named the first player that came to mind. “Oh eh, maybe Alexia Putellas, she’s a very talented player.”

The team erupted in laughter at how you were still choosing to look at this through football lenses. Only one person wasn’t laughing, and that was Leah. Her jaw was clenched as she looked at you, but it went unnoticed by you.

“I can definitely set you up with Alexia. In fact, I can call her right now!” Keira joined in on the fun. “No! Please don’t do that.” You didn’t like the turn this was taking. “Oh I won’t then, someone else maybe?”

Everyone on the team joined in on calling out names. Raso? Rölfo? Kaneryd? Bonmatí? Kennedy? Sonnet? Fleming?

Leah sat watching the scene unfold unamused. Her arms were crossed and her expression had turned into a frown. Everyone was enjoying getting a reaction out of you by listing every player they could think of, so they hadn’t noticed the change in her demeanour, until she stood up abruptly. Her chair loudly clattering against the floor.

The room went fully silent. No more names being thrown around, and no more laughter. “I eh, I’m gonna go check on her.” You stood up and followed in the direction Leah took off in.

“Lee, what’s wrong?” You say as you reach her about to open her hotel room. She huffed and walked into the room, just before the door closed behind her, you managed to slip through.

“Nothing, go meet up with any one of those people the girls mention. Go out, have fun.” Your brow furrowed, “Lee, I don’t know what’s going on. But-” She cut you off before you could continue telling her that you never said you wanted to meet up with those people, that it was just coming from your teammates.

“I can’t deal with listening to you potentially being with any one of those people. I don’t wanna hear who you think is good looking or fit. I don’t want to hear it because… because I want you to think of me that way.” The last part of her sentence was barely above a whisper.

You stood there, too stunned to get out any words. Leah figured she had put it on the table now, so she might as well continue what she just started. "I like you. I like you more than just my best friend. More than I ever thought I would. I didn’t realise it until I heard you talk about other girls that way.” She looked up at you nervously.

“Well, I was going to say that I didn’t talk about any of the people that way, and that it was only the girls doing so. And honestly the reason for that is because I only have eyes for you Leah. I like you too, I have for a long time.”

“You do?” Your smile grew, “Yes, you dummy. I’ve been a total grump without you here. You are the only person that I want. I don’t care about any other players going into this competition, it’s always been you.”

Leah stood up quickly and moved towards you. “I am so happy to hear you say that.” She said with her face mere inches away from yours. One look at her lips and then quickly diverting your eyes back to hers, was enough for Leah to lean in and connect your lips.

The kiss was short and sweet. It was everything you had hoped it would be and more. “Will you be my girlfriend?” Leah asked as soon as you pulled away from the kiss. “Definitely.” You said with a big smile.

“Can we go back down and show the girls everything is alright?” You asked shyly, not wanting to make Leah feel bad for walking out on everyone the way that she did. “Only if we can tell them that they can stop trying to match you up with someone.” You chuckled at her request. “Deal.”

As you walked back to the girls, Leah took ahold of your hand and gave it a soft squeeze. You couldn’t believe that she was your girlfriend, but you knew that with Leah by your side everything was going to be great.

The atmosphere in the common room shifted the second the both of you walked in. The team had been quietly speculating about what had happened, and if they had taken things too far.

As soon as they looked at your intertwined hands, the speculation started back up again, this time in the direction of did this actually work?

“Everything alright?” Keira asked with a knowing smile. Leah glanced at you and squeezed your hand once more. “Yeah, everything is more than alright.” She pulled you a little closer. “You can stop matchmaking, I’m taking her out tomorrow morning.”

The room filled with cheers and laughter. A few of the girls high fived each other. “Finally, I thought we were going to have to list every player in the tournament before the two of you finally got together.” Ella says dramatically, earning a laugh from the whole group, including you and Leah.

The teasing of the girls didn’t stop, but this time around it felt different. Leah’s arm was wrapped around your shoulder, with her thumb lightly caressing your arm.

You still had the tournament ahead of you, but tonight had given you a bit of extra encouragement to perform better than you had ever done before. You felt ready to take on the world and make Leah proud.

-----

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wileys-russo · 8 months ago

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body slammer II a.russo

alessia was dancing like a mad woman beside ella in the poolside beach club, her carefree good mood fueled by many cocktails and the company of some of her best friends in the off season during a well earned little vacation.

it felt like years since she had been able to take a proper break and go on holiday, and to do it with the girls she hardly ever got to see all together from multiple aspects of her life only made it all the more enjoyable and easy for her to let loose knowing everyone was actually gettin along.

“less i’m gonna grab another one! you good?” ella yelled to her, cupping her hand around her ear due to deafening house music pumping around them.

“yeah i’m still goin!” alessia confirmed, yelling back and holding up her drink she’d only taken a few sips out of, the shorter girl beside her sending her a toothy grin and thumbs up before melting away into the crowd.

looking around and spotting the rest of their group not too far away alessia started to make her way over there, mumbling apologies as she elbowed her way through the throng of drunken party goers.

she had almost made it to her friends when she felt someone slam into her back, sending her hurtling forward and meaning her own body smacked into someone else’s, her drink going all over them as alessias eyes widened.

she opened her mouth to immediately ramble out a hasty apology but as the girl she’d just accidentally swilled turned around alessia seemingly went mute, apology drying up on her tongue before she could make it.

the girl was gorgeous, and it had alessia feeling light headed in a way she knew wasn’t just the alcohol currently pumping through her.

“i am so so sorry!” the blonde finally managed to spit out, the mystery girl simply grinning at her. “don’t be. i’d never wear anything here i didn’t expect to be covered in some sort of liquid, its like a zoo in there!” she laughed nodding behind alessia to the thickening crowd of sweaty bodies building behind her.

“you’re telling me, though i think whoever just rammed me might have actually realigned my spine?” alessia joked, stomach fluttering as she was rewarded with a loud bout of laughter from the girl in front of her.

“sounds like you should go thank them! chiropractors don’t come cheap you know.” the girl teased, her nose scrunching up as she grinned and alessia once more swooned.

“can i buy you another drink?” the blonde moved a little closer due to the noise and offered sincerely. “you’re offering to get me a drink when you just spilled yours?” you asked with an amused smile, alessia’s cheeks flushing red with embarrassment as she nodded none the less.

“you’re cute. i should go find my friends before one of them disappears in there, once calvin harris starts later i fear i may not ever be able to get them back.” you’d grinned, and before alessia could even say another word you’d pressed a kiss to her cheek and you were gone, leaving the blonde tenderly touching her face which burned where your lips had just been.

with a deflated huff she dumped her now empty cup onto a nearby table and continued on her way to find her friends, throwing herself down onto a sun lounge.

“woah now! we’re in ibiza baby, why the long face?” katie asked as she sat down beside the blonde. “i bumped into a cute girl, spilled my drink all over her and didn’t even get her name before she dissapeared!” alessia groaned, dragging her hands down her face before flicking her sunglasses off the top of her head and sliding them onto the bridge of her nose.

“i’ll say it again we’re in ibiza russo there’s loads of fit girls around, go find someone else to dance and flirt with!” katie shouted, handing the blonde her drink to finish off and running away after vic who snatched her sunglasses off her head.

sculling the last few mouthfuls of the lukewarm tequila alessia winced at the alcohol burning it’s way down her throat before deciding to heed anna’s words.

she grabbed ella’s hand as her friend returned, dragging them both back onto the dance floor.

but hard as she tried to dance and drink the afternoon away to forget you, you were a thought that consistently lingered in the back of alessia’s mind.

which is why when she heard someone call out her name and quickly turned, knocking into someone who stood a lot closer than she had bargained, alessias hands quickly steadying them as they slipped, a smile tugged at her lips seeing she had once again bumped into you, literally.

“i’m beginning to think you’re doing this on purpose now!” you teased, alessia instantly noticing you’d ditched the top she’d spilled her drink all over last time and your top half was now only just covered by a bright green bikini. it took all of her willpower to focus her eyes on you and not your partially exposed chest.

“no i think this time’s on you!” alessia grinned, her left hand resting on your waist where she’d grabbed at you to stop you from falling over. “alessia.” the blonde removed her hand from your side and held it out with a beaming white toothed smile as she introduced herself.

“then consider us even!” you winked, cheekily snatching her drink from her right hand and once again melting away into the crowd.

“hey! you pinch my drink and i don’t even get to know your name?” alessia didn’t let you get away so easily this time, shouldering her way over to you and slinging an arm lazily around your waist to stop you from running away again.

“i believe in fate alessia, so let’s see if this happens again then and maybe you can get my name if you’re lucky.” you shamelessly flirted, sending her one more wink and again kissing her cheek before charging off after your friends into the crowd.

“unbelievable.” alessia threw her head back with a groan before hands fell to her shoulders and her friends surrounded her, dragging her away with them as the sun began to set, bathing the cluster of drunken sweaty bodies below in a golden orange glow.

deciding that it clearly wasn’t meant to be, alessia didn’t even know your name let alone if you were into girls, she forced you once again to the back of her mind, throwing down shots and cheering loudly as they announced calvin harris.

“let’s go!” hands intertwined with hers as her group pushed in closer toward the stage, alessia almost tripping over her own feet she was tugged aggressively into the crowd, though she waved it off with a tipsy laugh as she hugged her friends and whooped loudly as the familiar bass started to boom beneath their feet.

the set was halfway through when alessia once again spotted you, huddled a few feet away inbetween a group of girls and throwing your head back with a laugh as one of them poked at you, twirling you around and forcing alessia ignored the weird jealous clenching of her stomach at the sight.

she heard her friends yell out for her as she began to break away from them, fueled by tequila shots and liquid confidence she shrugged off their hands and made a beeline toward you.

unbeknownst to alessia you’d already spotted her a few moments earlier, yelling in your friends ear that the girl you’d been flirting with before had indeed found you again like you hoped.

which was why it came as no surprise to you when your best friend twirled you around, “accidentally” shoving you backwards and sending your body hurtling into alessia’s whose hands again grabbed protectively at your hips to stop you from taking the two of you down onto the ground.

“we simply have to stop meeting like this.” you grinned, your friend winking at you from behind the blonde and holding her drink up in a silent cheers before turning away back to your group.

“third time seems the charm then, i’m alessia.” the taller girl wasted no time introducing herself again, knowing it meant you would need to finally reveal your own name.

“so you already said.” you teased, purposefully not giving in to what you knew she was after and watching the girl in front of you shake her head with a knowing smirk.

“it’s not nice to lie, i believe you said if this happened again i’d finally get your name.” alessias body pressed in closer to yours, her hand moving to sit at the small of your back as your own stomach now fluttered.

“I said if you were lucky!”

“well i’m certainly feeling lucky. if i do get your name then maybe you’ll be forgiven for stealing two drinks from me.”

“stealing two drinks? i think you’ll find i’m the one whose still owed an apology body slammer!”

“give me your name and maybe you’ll get a third drink and an apology.” alessia bargained, tilting her head with a sly grin as you shook your own in amusement.

“y/n.” you finally revealed, someone knocking into you from behind meaning you were thrust even closer into alessia, both of you now chest to chest as you both shared a smile, clearly not minding.

“come on then body slammer.” you grabbed her hand tugging her with you as alessia laughed at her apparent new nickname, the music getting louder and louder as pushed deeper into the crowd.

alessia tensed in surprise as you stopped and grabbed her hands, placing them on you as you started to dance, purposefully pressing yourself into her.

recovering from the brief shock the blonde wasted no time in pulling your body tightly into hers, the two of you grinding against one another to the beat, surrounded by hundreds of drunken party goers all doing the same.

by the third song you’d turned so the two of you were now dancing face to face and alessia couldn’t help but find her eyes flickering down to your lips every few seconds, a habit which didn’t go unnoticed to you as your arms wrapped around the back of her neck.

the two of you now locked eyes and you nodded reassuringly as the taller girl leant down but paused briefly, craning your neck to meet her halfway, both of your stomachs doing backflips as your lips met.

neither one of you sober it didn’t take long until the kiss became a little sloppy, alessia ramming her tongue down your throat as you held back a moan and forced yourself to pull away.

over her shoulder you noticed one of your friends frantically waving toward you, struggling to hold up your best friend who had clearly had too much to drink, signalling they were leaving.

leaning in again you shouted your phone number into the blondes ear, removing her hands from where they’d wandered dangerously low down your body and striding off toward your friends without another word, leaving the striker positively dumbstruck behind you.

“i better get a message body slammer, you still owe me that third drink, and an apology!” you turned to call out teasingly toward her, alessias once defeated expression quickly brightening as she scrambled to pull her phone out of her bag.

and it was safe to say you most certainly did get a message, and it was far from the last you saw of the blonde.

#alessia russo imagine #alessia russo x reader #alessia russo #woso x reader #woso community #woso #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso blurbs

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bullet-prooflove · 1 month ago

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Fishtail: Jack Abbot x Reader

Tagged: @kmc1989 @dizzybee03 @noxytopy @flyinglama @yousigned-upforthis

Companion piece to:

The Asshole King - Jack discovers you have an unusual technique for dealing with patients.

Bob Dylan - You help Jack to relax after an incident at the hospital leaves him temporarily blind.

Because Of You - Jack realises he's starting to heal in more ways than one after you spend the day taking care of him.

Boston - You reflect on the past after your ex-husband makes an appearance on a trying day.

This God Damn Fucking Day - Jack steps into the fray with things get messy between you and you ex-husband.

Misdemeanour - Jack's forced to step in when you get arrested because of your ex-husband.

It takes Jack three hours to resolve your jail predicament with the security footage of Myrna destroying Richard’s Mercades. In that time he accomplishes two things. Getting the vandalism charges dropped and implicating your ex-husband in a crime because that asshole, he filed a false report by saying he saw you trash his car and the cops they don’t take that shit lightly.

You’re exhausted by the time he gets you back home, quiet, despondent. You head straight into the bathroom, closing the door quietly behind you and the shower turns on almost immediately. Jack understands the need for space after the day you’ve had, you’ve spent the best part of 16 hours in loud chaotic environments, you’re about due for a little peace.

He asks Alexa to play Fleetwood Mac’s ‘Rumours’ album on low as he takes out his Bob Dylan t-shirt and a pair of boxers for you to relax in. He lays them on your side of the bed before changing into sweatpants and settling himself against the headboard to read the med journal he hadn’t finished last night.

It’s an half an hour later you come out, wrapped in his robe, your damp hair falling across your features. You look so small in that moment, almost timid. This is what your ex-husband does to you, he off foots you, makes you unsure of yourself, of your value.

“Will you braid my hair for me?” You ask softly and he sets the journal back down on the nightstand.

“Of course.” He responds before he raises to his feet and the hair brush and hair ties off the dresser.

You’re already dressed in his clothes when he turns around, sitting in the middle of the bed, waiting patiently. He assumes the position behind you, using the brush to gently comb the tangles from your hair as you close your eyes and listen to the music.

“What are we thinking here?” He asks you, focusing on his task. “French, Fishtail, Dutch?”

“You choose.” You tell him because you’re too mentally fatigued to make any decision right now. Jack considers the pros and cons of each one before be begins sectioning off your hair for a fishtail braid because his niece Ella tells him it’s the most comfortable to sleep in.

The braiding started seven years ago before you were ever on the scene. He’d come home from his last tour to discover his brother wasn’t coping with life as a single parent. His wife had died whilst Jack was away and everything had fallen apart in the months after, he started drinking, kept drinking.

At the age of eleven Ella was trying to keep the house running and get herself to school while the bills stacked up on the kitchen table because her dad was too depressed to get himself out of bed.

Instead of renewing his contract with the military, Jack had retired to take care of his family because they were in crisis. He had picked up the job at The Pitt so he could be available for Ella during the day time, doing the school run, helping with dinner and her homework until his shift started at seven.

He’d picked up being a girl dad quickly, throwing himself into it the same way he did everything else. He attended her swim meets, cheering her on from the sidelines, watched countless Youtube videos to perfect his braiding skills and learned the lyrics to every Taylor Swift song because that’s what Ella liked to listen to. It’s him who ended up shopping for sanitary products, explaining each one to her so she knew her options when she got her first period.

It stays that way for a year before his brother Callum got himself squared away and started to stand on his own two feet again. Jack had spent hours showing him how to braid so he continue his handiwork when he was well enough.

Braiding time is when she tells you her secrets, he had told his brother, anything that’s bothering her, it all comes out then.

It’s the same with you, he’s learned over the years. Braiding, it’s an act of love, a way of showing he cares without words, that he’s here when you’re ready to talk.

“I’m going to report him.” You say quietly as he weaves the strands together. “If he did it to me, if he did it to Abby…”

You trail off but he understands the implication. There’s probably more out there, others that have been too cowed by Richard’s influence to come forward. That’s how men like him work, they fuck with your head, twist you up inside until you break.

“That’s not on you Faye.” He tells you as he ties off the end of your braid. “He married you, why wouldn’t you think it was love?”

He hates that man for what he did to you, for manipulating you into a relationship, for coercing you into a marriage. He and your mother forged an empire on your hard work, his with his celebrity rehab clinic, her with the reputation management of said celebrities. It was never about you, it was about what they could get from you, how they could use you up to further their agenda.

“Jack I need you to love me tonight.” You whisper. “I need you to show me…”

You need to know that his love is unconditional, that it doesn’t come with caveats.

“Food first.” He pressing a kiss to the back of your head, his hands lightly squeezing your shoulders. “Then I’ll spend the whole day showing you how loved you really are.”

Love Jack? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

Before you join the taglist make sure to read the rules here as you otherwise you won’t be added.

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#jack abbott x reader #dr abbott #dr abbott x reader #shawn hatosy #jack abbott #the pitt 2025 #the pitt hbo #jack abbot #jack abbot x reader #the pitt fanfiction #the pitt #jack x faye

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wosoloml · 4 months ago

Text

From Rivalry to becoming Family || Alessia Russo x German!reader (Frankfurt!Reader)

Summary: When you and Alessia get engaged, you decide to celebrate this milestone with both of your national teams. What starts as a union between two people becomes a beautiful transformation from the rivalry of the Euros 2022 into a bond that feels like family.

a/n: throwback to the most painful day ever as a german. ich hoffe ich habe deine request gut umgesetzt <3 danke für deine worte!! i hope its okay i wrote also about how they got together.

wc: 1,4k | from this request

warnings : nothing just fluff except for mentioning the euros final

"Y/N! Are you finally done?" Alessia shouts through the house for the third time, trying her best to stay patient while waiting downstairs for her fiancée.

"Babe, relax. We won’t be late; everything’s going to work out," I reassure her, descending the stairs to join her.

Four days ago marked one of the best days of our lives.

After two and a half years of dating, Alessia finally asked me to be her wife. And, of course, I said yes.

It all began during the Euros in 2022. Alessia and I couldn’t be more different when it comes to our nationalities. Keeping our relationship private was tough, especially when we faced each other in the final. But at least we knew one of us would be celebrating that night.

The day after the final was when we finally told our teammates about our relationship. Since that day, the rivalry between England and Germany hasn’t felt quite as intense (even though we all know Germany is the better team).

"We’re going to be late if you spend another hour deciding which shoes match your dress," Alessia says, her impatience bubbling over as she watches me.

"I'm done! What do you think of my outfit?" I ask, turning to face her. Alessia’s eyes widen as she takes in the sight of me.

"Wow," she breathes, her expression full of admiration.

I feel my cheeks warm at her reaction. Even after two and a half years of being showered with her compliments, I still haven’t learned how to process them without blushing.

---------

When we arrive at the little beach house, everything is perfectly decorated, but no one is waiting for us. It’s a stark contrast to Alessia’s prediction that we’d be late because I took “so long.”

I can’t help but feel grateful that we managed to arrange this small party to celebrate such a special milestone in our relationship. Playing in different countries makes it difficult to maintain anything resembling a normal relationship, so it means the world that we were able to bring both of us—and all our national teammates—together for this one celebration.

----

The clock struck exactly 3:00 PM when the first guests arrived. Unsurprisingly, it was Alessia’s best friends, Lotte and Ella. My heart swelled with love as I saw how many people cared about Alessia enough to travel all the way to Denmark to celebrate with us.

"Ella! Lotte! I’m so glad you’re here," I exclaimed, pulling them into a tight hug. In the beginning of our relationship, spending time with Alessia’s friends felt a bit awkward—especially since they played for England. But they turned out to be the sweetest people, and I’d never felt more welcomed.

"I can’t believe she finally asked you," Lotte teased, rolling her eyes. "She must have called me a thousand times, asking if it was too early, too late, or what your answer might be. Honestly, thank you for saying yes!"

I couldn’t help but laugh as Alessia came over, resting her hand gently on my back and joining in to greet her friends. Moments like this reminded me just how lucky I was to be surrounded by so much love.

I could hear two loud voices singing and laughing with Alessia, and I immediately knew who had just arrived.

"Y/N, go get your girls before Laura starts drinking all the champagne before nightfall," Alessia teased, flashing me a grin.

"My girls! There you are!" I exclaimed as I rushed over to greet them. "I’m so happy you both are here."

We were used to speaking English with each other, but it still felt amusing, given our shared history.

"I can’t believe my little girl is getting married to the blonde English striker," Sara said, her voice full of mock disbelief. "It’s still unbelievable how you kept it a secret. We all knew you had a crush on her—like, who didn’t? And then secretly meeting her after games... and now here we are. My lovebirds!"

Sara couldn’t stop smiling as she looked at Alessia, her words filled with warmth.

"Okay, Sara, enough is enough!" I interrupted, my cheeks turning crimson.

Alessia caught Sara’s eye and gave me a playful wink, which only made me blush harder.

-----

As time passed, more and more guests arrived, until all of our national teammates were finally here. My heart swelled with love as I watched Leah chatting animatedly with Lena and Mary exchanging tactics with Merle. After years of playing against each other, it felt surreal to see everyone coming together like one big family.

I wrapped my arm around Alessia, unable to stop myself from smiling. It was hard to believe how perfect my life felt in that moment. I was the luckiest woman alive, with the best fiancée by my side. (And let’s not forget—she won Arsenal's Goal and Player of the Month! How could I not feel proud?)

----

My eyes caught Ella as she stood up and cleared her throat, drawing everyone’s attention.

"When Alessia first told me she had a crush on Y/N, I already knew," she began with a soft smile. "Her eyes never lied when she looked at her. It didn’t matter if it was during tactical meetings while we analyzed other teams or when Y/N crossed our path on the way to different games. That same look was always there—an expression full of admiration."

Ella paused for a moment, her gaze shifting warmly between us. "I’ll save the big words for their wedding speech, but what I can already say is this: no one has ever made Alessia’s eyes sparkle the way you do. Thank you, Y/N, for making our Lessi the happiest girl on earth."

Ella fought back her tears, just like the rest of us. I smiled warmly at her, holding Alessia’s hand tightly in mine.

"She’s not the only one determined to make us all cry tonight," I said, glancing over at Laura. My heart immediately swelled with emotion. Laura wasn’t typically one for big words or grand displays of sentiment, so her standing up to speak meant the world to me.

"We didn’t win the Euros," Laura began, her voice steady yet filled with emotion, "but we won something even more special—new friendships. And most importantly, my best friend found the love of her life."

She paused, her gaze flicking between Alessia and me, a gentle smile gracing her face. "Whether it’s singing ‘Sweet Caroline’ in a karaoke bar or cheering for you at the Emirates, know that it’s always from the bottom of our hearts. Alessia, you are the first person I trust completely with Y/N’s heart, and I know it’s safe with you. Here’s to many more memories together. Cheers!"

Her words left the room in a silence filled with love and admiration before glasses clinked together in celebration. I couldn’t stop the tears from welling up as I squeezed Alessia’s hand, grateful beyond words for this moment.

I stood up, taking a moment to gather my thoughts before speaking on behalf of both of us.

"First of all, I need to thank our best friends for making us all cry and for finding the perfect words. You truly know how to touch our hearts. Thank you." I paused, looking around the room, feeling an overwhelming sense of gratitude.

"And we also want to thank all of you for being here today. We know it’s no small feat to find a free spot in our busy schedules, so we really appreciate you making the effort."

I smiled and raised my glass. "Please, enjoy the day, and let’s not drink too much!"

The laughter that followed helped ease the nerves in my chest, and I couldn’t help but feel thankful for everyone here, sharing in this special moment with us.

----

Alessia had her arms wrapped tightly around my waist as we swayed slowly to one of our favorite songs. Despite Leah’s role in music, today’s playlist wasn’t half bad.

"Thank you for spending the rest of my life with me," Alessia whispered softly in my ear, her words sending a warmth feeling through me.

"It’s a pleasure to spend it with you," I replied, my voice shy as I glanced at her. "I hope you liked today."

She smiled at me, her expression full of comfort. "I loved it today."

I leaned in closer "I love you."

May our story continue, forever.

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heartmix · 3 months ago

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girl you're taking home - CL16

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x fem!reader

Word Count: 1.5k+

Warning: angst!, cheating, affair, unnamed girlfriend

A/N: someone get me away from these country songs!

F1 Masterlist / Masterlist

He didn't mean for it to go this far. It was meant to be a one-time moment after getting a little too drunk at the Ferrari Gala. He didn't mean to get so attached, so infatuated. She was his race engineer, for god's sake. They worked for the same company. It shouldn't work, it couldn't work. But here they were.

One drunk mistake led to another drunk mistake which led to sober mistakes. It happened anytime he needed company, or anytime he felt frustrated. Anytime he just needed someone you were that person. You were the only person who could get him back to being in a good mood. No one batted an eye. If you could calm Charles down who were they to question?

No one thought anything beyond it because of Charles's very public relationship. Often, the two of them would be in headlines and gossip blogs—the picture-perfect couple, gaining more likes on Ferrari's Instagram than anything else.

Even with his picture-perfect life, it wasn't enough for Charles. He loved his girlfriend, and she was a great girl, but she wasn't the one he thought about every second of every day. When he found out any news, she wasn't the one he wanted to share with. That person was you, the one person he looked forward to seeing every race week.

You weren't dumb; you knew it was wrong. There was nothing anyone could say to condone the affair. The selfish part of you continued it. Each time you thought of ending it, he would whisper sweet nothings into your ear, reassuring you that you were his girl, the one he wanted, and he loved you and only you. And every single time, you believed him.

A part of you should have known how much of an emotional heartbreak it would be to be in this "relationship". The way you couldn't go out to do normal date activities, no longing smiles or someone would catch on, no introducing you as his girlfriend and taking you home to his family. All that there was were late-night calls asking to come over and a few minutes at the paddock before either of you were needed.

Monza was the breaking point for you. It was a great day for Charles, for Ferrari, it should be good for you. Watching Charles, the Prince of Ferrari cross the finish line and take the win home was a momentous occasion. He did it. Ferrari did it.

"YOU DID IT CHARLES!" your joyous voice came on the radio. He replied with as much emotion as he did in Monaco. Hearing that was worth all the stress you both endured this season.

When he got out of the car he ran straight to the Ferrari crew, with you right in the center. His eyes locked onto you and soon a smile spread on his lips bringing you in for a bone-crushing hug. "We did it mon cherie." His voice was soft, not noticeable to anyone around you. But you heard him loud and clear.

"You did it, Prince of Ferrari." You pulled back with a big smile on your face. How you wanted to keep him there longer and kiss him, but you couldn't you weren't his.

After a moment he moved on to other members hugging and shaking their hands before he was needed in the cool down room. When he was on top of that podium it was like nothing else mattered. The loud cheering from the Tifosi crowd, the red smoke, the Ferrari flags, all of that was blind to you. The only thing you could think of was dousing him in champagne after the team picture.

Making your way to the garage it was then that everything hit you. Charles was kissing his girlfriend with their dog in her arms while every camera seemed to be shoved in their face. A perfect couple, a perfect family. Something you will never get to have with him. No matter how many times he told you so in secret, it was never going to happen.

The rest of the day, although filled with cheers and celebrations left and right was a day you wanted to be over. The only thing you wanted to do was to go back to the hotel and sleep. No more racing, no more celebrating, no more thinking. If only it were that easy. Being a vital part of today's win, you were forced to go out and celebrate with the team, with Charles. Fred wouldn't take no for an answer and the publicist would think it was a bad idea if the race-winning engineer was not celebrating with the team, in Ferrari's home nonetheless.

That's how you found yourself at dinner, sitting right across from Charles and his girlfriend. You were lucky to have Carlos next to you. Someone who could distract you from the day. All night you talked with everyone else on the table but Charles. He could tell something was up. He tried to get your attention whether it was nudging your leg under the table or staring right at you. It wasn't till he got you alone in the VIP section of the club that you were dragged to by Carlos.

"What's wrong?" His voice was soft, a tone he normally used with you. The VIP section was thankfully dark enough to hide how close he was to you.

"Crazy day, just tired." You wanted him to get the hint to leave you alone. The talk about fully ending this was not something you wanted to do in a random club celebrating one of Ferrari's greatest days.

"Wanna head out?" There it was, the voice that would get you in trouble. The tone that made you say yes every time, but not tonight, not ever again.

"We can't."

"And why is that?" He teased. Of course, he thought you were playing around or maybe he had a bit too much to drink and wasn't thinking straight. That had to be the reason he was being so bold with his girlfriend in the same building.

"You're girlfriend is here." You watched his smirk turn downward into a frown. He forgot she was here. His focus has been on you since dinner and he forgot he had company this week.

Charles knew he was pushing his luck and being risky, he couldn't blame it on the alcohol because he was well aware of his surroundings to be intoxicated, "Later tonight?"

"No Charles, not ever. We can't do this anymore."

"You don't really mean that do you mon cherie?" His sweet voice ran down your spine as he ran his hands on your exposed tighs. I guess it was now or never, you didn't want to do it in a club, but this needed to end, for the sake of your mental.

"I do. Charles, I love you, I do. And this is fun, but you have someone you get to go home to while you leave my bed at some random hour of the morning making me wake up next to no one. You get to flaunt and take her home while I'm sitting here stupidly thinking that would be me someday. I can't keep being the one you call when you need help or are feeling alone. You have that person already and, no matter how much I want it to be me it's not and it's never going to be. This is where I cut off every connection to you." You tried to be as sincere as possible, but the more you let out the more the words sounded like venom.

He was not hearing any of it—not right now. You were just emotional about the day or maybe had too much to drink; that was the only logical reason. "What the hell are you talking about? How are you cutting me off?"

"Lewis asked if I could be his engineer next year. I said yes a while ago." The mention of his new teammate hit him like a truck. You were being serious. Why else would you bring up Lewis? There was no way you were breaking things off with him personally and professionally. He was losing you either way.

"You're leaving me?! Leaving us?" His voice rose with each comment. Thankfully, the music was blasting, and all the chatter didn't alert anyone else.

"There should have never been us. I'm your race engineer, not your girlfriend. I was just a person who was there for you whenever someone wasn't around. It was wrong of me to do and continue to after that night."

"No, tell me you don't mean that. I need you. You're the one that's always on my mind, I can't get you out of it like that."The look on his face would have made you take back your words any other time. He looked so defeated, voice pleading with you to change your mind.

"I'm sorry."

"So that's it?"

"I'm sorry." You gave one last smile before walking out of the club. You didn't look back because you knew you would fall back into his trance if you did.

#f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc x reader #Spotify

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enwoso · 8 months ago

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post match | alessia russo x child!reader

grumpy masterlist

alessia and the rest of the lionesses had done their rounds of the pitch signing things, taking photos. you alongside your mummy the entire time as you were clad in your little england shirt which was now underneath a t-shirt the whole team was wearing saying you were heading for switzerland next year.

you however had been having a lot more fun with the black sharpie you had been given to sign something for a fan but instead had run off with it afterwards, instead having fun drawing on the shoulder of your mummys top as she carried you down the sideline but also chasing ella up and down the touchline.

ella having black lines covering the bottom of her shirt as you chased her with loud giggles coming from you each time you managed to successfully draw on ella's shirt, your mummy just dissmissing the whole thing with a shake of the head, you were having fun so why would she tell you to stop.

you were now being led by your mummy down the tunnel and into a room with a long table and lots of people stood in front with books as they looked on towards the table, "tiny which one do you want? this one or that one?" your mummy asked you as she pointed between the two seats in front of the table.

you pointed to the one on the left as your mummy nodded lifting you onto the seat before taking her seat on the right of you. one of the england staff memebrs off to the side handing alessia a bottle of water as alessia greets the journalists.

"tiny, we good to go?" the england staff member asks you as you nod very slowly, before the staff member gestures for the first question to be asked.

"hi alessia. congratulations on the great game, how are you feeling after that one? has it sunk in what you have achieved"

alessia smiling on as you looked around cluelessly to what was going on, most likely wondering who on earth these people were on the other side of the table but also where had they came from as you sat on the side of you chair as the question was being asked.

"hiya, um no not really. obviously there has been a few weeks inbetween games. they were obviously big games for us and it's always nice to win in front of a home crowd. i don't think it'll really sink into until we really start preparing" alessia explained as you played with your elephant stuffed teddy in your lap, along with you arm being full of colourful friendship bracelets that fans had given you.

"it's such a special occasion to qualify and to be able to celebrate in front of a sold out crowd it special and something that never grows old. but now this is where the hard work starts" alessia continued but moving an arm out to hold you as you began to climb up onto the top of the table.

"talking about celebrating with the fans, your obviously celebrating with your family. what is it like to be able to share these moments and celebrate with your family?" another journalist asked as a big grin came across alessia's face at the mention of her family, the blonde being a big home girl.

"yeah, it's been incredible. the journey has been best thing in the world and to have my own little world crawling around-" alessia stops to let out a laugh some of the journalists joining in as she gestured over to you as you were crawling along the table top with you elephant, bumping the other microphone with your tiny feet.

"no, but having her by my side is honestly the best thing ever. she keeps everything happy for me. and being able to go off the field to her is pretty special no matter if the team wins or lose or draw" alessia talked out as you were in your own little world, sitting on the table top — your little elephant teddy tucked udder you arm as you tapped the mic on your side of the table.

tapping away and moving the muff that had been placed on top of it. as you moved back to sit proudly on top of the table, looking out at the sea of faces in front of you.

"and im pretty lucky to have my parents and my brothers by my side for when i need them and yeah it's been a pretty special few weeks" alessia smiled softly before moving her arm out to lift you up from the table seeing as you were just fidgeting on with the muff of the microphone.

your mummy moving you more into the middle of the table but closer to her, as you picked up your elephant teddy sitting it in your lap as you carried on the sit on the table crossed legged.

alessia carrying on to answer questions about the team performance as you moved immediately from where your mummy had sat you to play with the microphone on the other side of the table. you with your back to the sea of faves as alessia held a hand in your knee to stop you falling just in case of you did. as you danced your elephant teddy on top of the microphone making your own fun out of anything.

the interview finally coming to and end after what felt like forever, your energy levels had dropped after being in such a low vibed room. your mummy getting up from her seat, "can you say thank you to everyone lovie?" she asked.

you beginning to take the t-shirt off from over your little jersey, as you looked at everyone in the room mumbling your thank you which the small microphone in front of you was just about to pick up you saying.

your mummy beginning to lift you up out the seat as the next player was coming in for their post match interview which so happened to be ella.

"no no" you mumbled as you struggled to get the t-shirt off the top of your head. your mummy trying to place your arm back in the arm hole as you shook your head.

"no i no wan it on-" you whined as mummy quickly nodded and lifted the shirt off your head to reveal your white england jersey a big number 23 in the middle of the shirt.

you began to pick up your little brackets as ella walked in taking the seat your mummy had just been in. "say bye bye" your mummy smiled as she moved the microphone closer to you.

"bye bye" you smiled proudly into the microphone, as the room lit up with your infectious energy as awh could be heard around the room from your sweet little accent.

"bye tiny!" ella called out as she waved at you beginning to climb down from the chair but you were clearly on in a hurry as you lifted up the bracelet you had in your hand to show ella. a gasp coming from the girl before you dumped the crackers back on the table top.

"c'mon lovie it's tooney's turn!" your mummy said quickly grabbing the bracelets and you as she began to carry you out the room.

"bye tiny" ella smiled once again as alessia moved towards the exit, your say another bye in your grumpy voice. upset you were leaving you had been having fun for the past few minutes sitting on top of a table very proudly.

ella let out a loud laugh as she watched as alessia exited the room, imitating your bye in a similar tone of voice before getting herself settled back in the seat.

"sorry i'm not as cute as her!"

#alessia russo x y/n #alessia russo x reader #alessia russo #woso community #woso x reader #woso #woso imagine #woso blurbs #awfc #arsenal women #arsenal wfc #ella toone #ella toone x reader #england wnt #england women #england #engwnt #enwoso

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untitled-document-95 · 1 month ago

Text

Music to My Ears (jake seresin x reader)

Summary: Jake accidentally lingers at The Hard Deck, finally seeing a side of you no one knows about.

Warnings: memories of shitty boyfriends ig?

Requested: Nope

A/N: Based on the song "If You Have To" by Ella Langley

*gif is not mine*

On the night that changed everything, things started out as normal as could be. The Hard Deck filled with Top Gun students and graduates and even a few instructors, the crowd peaking around 9 PM before slowly fading out the closer it drew to midnight. Last call came, a few more drinks were poured. Penny wiped down the bar while her junior bartender cleaned tables and stacked stools. Only a few stragglers had yet to drag their happy asses out of the bar and back to base. Unsurprisingly, one was Lieutenant Jake Seresin, who’d gotten himself engrossed in a billiards battle with a few other pilots.

Finally, the game ended. Penny bid the boys goodnight before calling to her helper.

“Hey, you still want to lock up on your own tonight?”

“Yeah, I got it handled. Have a good night, Penny.” She smiles sweetly and nods at her boss, hoping she doesn’t see that there’s an ulterior motive for wanting to lock up on her own. Penny waves and heads out the door.

Unbeknownst to the young lady, she is still not alone. Neither she nor Penny saw Lieutenant Seresin head into the bathroom instead of heading out the door with his buddies. Her closing duties complete aside from turning off lights and locking the doors, she sits down at the piano. Warming up a bit, she doesn’t hear the lieutenant exit the bathroom and stop in his tracks when he hears the piano and finds her sitting there, no audience in sight.

Finally, her fingers begin to dance across the keys and play a song. She plays the same melody on repeat for a bit. Jake wonders if he should do something - sneak out, clear this throat, do something to get her attention? He worries that any of the above will startle her. It’s been over a year and Jake has never once told her anything close to the truth about how he feels about her. He loves the way she interacts with customers, friendly and kind to those who are nice to her but can absolutely destroy a rude customer with her words. He noticed how she was scared to ring the bell at first, but now will walk in that direction until she gets an apology from whoever thought they could mess with her. So unbelievably smart for someone so beautiful, though Jake knows to say that out loud would make him sound like an asshole.

It’s not as though Jake hasn’t tried to talk to her, though. Problem was, when he tried that very first time he ever saw her tending bar, she mentioned a boyfriend. Jake had even seen him once or twice, picking her up or just hanging out at the bar to talk to her. Wrapping an arm around her waist, dipping her into a deep kiss. In his presence, her face lit up with joy. It was clear to any outsider that she loved him, and they were best friends. So Jake kept his distance, but he always wondered if that guy truly reciprocated her feelings. His face never seemed as bright, never as deeply consumed during their interactions the way she was.

Jake is enamored with her playing, and it only gets better when she begins to sing.

You know I never lied

Went home with someone else

So why you acting like I put you through some kind of hell?

The first verse pulls Jake under, as though he begins drowning in the same sea of emotion. Was this about that guy? The one Jake had always seen before? Come to think of it, there’d been several nights Jake had come to the bar to find her absent. Ever since, Jake couldn’t recall another night with that guy at the bar or there waiting for her at the end of the night.

Hate me if you have to

If it helps you sleep at night

Paint me in whatever light

Baby that you want to

Finally, the song fades to an end and the last chords ring out across the empty room. It becomes painfully obvious that Jake must now make his presence known in some way that makes it evident he wasn’t trying to hide from her on purpose. Turning around to find him standing there silently would give stalker vibes.

“Wow,” is all Jake can muster. She whirls around on the piano bench to lock eyes with the green-eyed pilot, chest heaving with the efforts of the song and now adrenaline coursing through her.

“What the hell are you doing here?” she accuses.

“I…I’m sorry,” Jake says, holding up both hands in surrender. “I was in the bathroom and when I came out…well, it’s rude to interrupt a performance.” He’s fairly certain he hears her mutter an expletive under her breath as her hands find her head, rubbing her temples and seemingly trying to wipe humiliation from her features.

“You heard all of that, huh?” she asks. Jake approaches, hands in pockets, nodding. From the piano bench, she looks up at him, lips pursed.

“That was…some song,” Jake says, his tone laced with all the things he wants her to know but can’t say. That he understands the meaning of the lyrics, that he’s sorry anyone would ever do anything to make her feel that way. “That why you wanted to lock up alone?”

“It’s the only time I can ever have a piano to myself.” She seems both sad and frustrated by this.

“You are incredibly talented.”

“Thanks.” She speaks quietly and slowly, as though she’s embarrassed of her own skills. “I’ve been working on that for months. That was probably the best I’ve ever done.”

The pair are silent for a few moments, unsure of where to go from here. Finally, Jake remembers his manners. He sticks out a hand to formally introduce himself, and she returns the gesture, also giving her name. The pair stare at one another for several moments, neither one wanting to break the anticipatory silence.

“Why are you staring at me?” she finally asks.

“I’m wishing,” Jake whispers, serious as can be.

“For what?”

“That I knew what to say or do right now to make sure you don’t ever feel that way again.” There’s no arrogance or inflated sense of self behind his words. They are not empty, a mere catalyst for getting her home. They are real and raw and it surprises even Jake that he let them slip. She raises an eyebrow, looks to her lap, then lets out a quiet, joyless chuckle.

“Well when you figure it out, let me know, will you?” she says, sounding defeated like she knows he never will because she doesn’t know the answer herself. She closes the lid to the piano, standing and sliding the bench in. She crosses to the bar, double-checking her last minute tasks and grabbing her car keys, all the while leaving Jake to the left of the piano, dumbstruck or perhaps awestruck but most certainly struck with her. When she reaches the door, she gives him a look as if to say, “I can’t leave until you do, so get a move on.” Jake slowly approaches, mind still spinning.

“Would you be open to getting coffee with me in the morning?” he asks cautiously.

“Define ‘morning’” she asks, which throws Jake for a loop, leaving him unable to answer her simple yet mind-boggling question. She locks the door behind them, and they meander to their respective vehicles.

“Um,” he begins. Her mouth forms a smirk. If he didn’t know any better, Jake would say she was enjoying the amount of control she obviously held here.

“There’s a reason I work in a bar, Lieutenant. You won’t find me outside of my bed before 9 AM if I have any say in the matter.”

“9:30 AM it is,” he retorts. She smiles.

“See you then. Goodnight, Jake,” she says.

“Goodnight.”

#x reader #jake hangman seresin #jake seresin #jake seresin x reader #top gun x reader #top gun maverick #glen powell #glen powell x reader #untitleddocument95 #song fics #Spotify

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saturnznct · 9 months ago

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1:43am | jks

➸ note; i don't like this but dad jake thoughts are all consuming

➸ word count; 574 words

➸ ella; aged 2 months

➸ warning(s); none

enhypen masterlist

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯ ⋆✦⋆ ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

You woke up out of habit.

It was almost as if your body was confused as to why you hadn’t been awoken by cries for some time.

You crane your head around to look at the clock, and notice that Jake isn’t beside you. Furrowing your eyebrows in confusion, you rub your eyes.

Maybe he’s in the nursery?

You turn back around to grasp the baby monitor on your bedside table. Your daughter’s room is empty, both of Jake and your daughter.

You reluctantly peel the covers away, shivering at the chill of the outside air, slipping on your slippers and padding along the corridor, quickly poking your head into every room you pass.

You finally find some luck in the living room. Jake is sitting in one of two armchairs facing your floor to ceiling windows. Your high rise apartment has a beautiful view of Seoul at night, and so the two of you have spent many nights talking into the early hours here.

A pink bundle lays asleep in his arms, and you can tell by the tilt of his head that he’s just looking at her.

‘Jae?’

Jake turns his head, and you feel a twinge of guilt for snapping him out of his trance.

‘Hi, sorry did I wake you?’

‘No, no,’ you sink into the armchair opposite him, ‘just wondered where you’d gone.’

‘She needed a bottle. And then we got comfortable here.’

‘Aren’t you tired?’ you rest your elbow on the arm of the chair, ‘we can put her down and go back to bed.’

‘Few more minutes,’ Jake cradles Ella, absentminded smile across his face.

‘Oh, Ella, I think I’ve been replaced,’ you sigh, and Jake rolls his eyes.

‘No, definitely not. My heart just grew bigger, didn’t it El?’ he lifts her up to kiss her forehead, ‘got so much room for both of my girls.’

You feel the heat rise to your cheeks and the butterflies swirling in your stomach. Even after so many years Jake still makes you feel so flustered. Seeing your baby girl in his arms just exacerbates it.

‘Mummy/mommy just gave me the most perfect girl, huh?’ Jake doesn’t notice the effect he’s having on you as he stares at Ella, ‘gave me everything I’ve ever wanted.’

‘Jaeyun..’

‘I mean it, you know,’ he gazes out the window at the city below, ‘like, right now it feels like we’re the only people in the world. Every time I look at the two of you it feels like my life is complete, you know? I could die happy.’

He looks back down at Ella, gently rocking her, ‘I didn’t think it was possible to feel so much love. Thank you for giving it to me.’

You’re so hormonal and affected by his words that tears quickly fall down your face.

‘Jesus,’ you sniffle, ‘you can’t say all that when I’m breastfeeding and hormonal.’

Jake just chuckles, ‘just wanted to make sure you know how much I love you.’

‘I love you too.’

Ella starts snoring lightly, but loud enough for you both to hear and giggle at.

‘Maybe we should put her down and get some rest ourselves,’ Jake suggests, ‘you need it, Mama.’

‘Okay,’ you rub your aching eyes, and stand up with him.

He curls a spare arm around you, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

‘You get into bed. I’ll be in to cuddle you in just a minute.’

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diejager · 1 year ago

Note

I'm back with my guilty taste (not so guilty actually) stepdad! König and dbf! Horangi....I like to swim in deep and dangerous waters. I'm sorry.

¡Sí, padrastro! König hierve crudo cuando salimos con Horangi sin él... Lo puedo adivinar. Tenemos una pijamada/fiesta con un amigo, que realmente lo es, con el consentimiento de nuestra madre. Ella conoce a nuestro amigo, confía plenamente en él, sin ningún motivo para decir que no a querer pasar la noche en su casa. Incluso admite que con nuestro regreso haríamos una linda pareja, en comparación con König y Horangi.

I leave the idea there.

(Tiemblo de sólo imaginarlo, ¡Dam! No puedo tener suficiente, ayuda)

I’m gonna be honest with you, I had to use google translate for this and the translations were uh… going left and right, but I think I understood the gist of it. cw: NON-CON/DUB-CON, DARKFIC, STEPCEST, rough sex, manhandling, creampie, p in v, unprotected sex, dacryphilia, blood kink, marking kink, wound, jealous stepdad!könig, tell me if I missed any.

König saw red when he heard that you were sleeping at a friend’s house, a boy’s house at that. Childhood friends, your mother told him, growing up together and having shared the same class until college when you went your separate ways while still keeping in touch since he lived right across the streets.

He knew the boy, he’d seen Kevin wave at your mother and you when he saw you, strutting up for a quick conversation; he’d heard Kevin talk to you on the phone and saw the smile growing on your lips and that bubbly laugh he wanted to own; and he’d seen you hang out with Kevin, waving him goodbye from your doorstep.

His blood boiled the whole night, making dinner with his wife awkward and his bedroom more heated, fucking up your mother with rough and mean sex, taking out a part of wrath on her until he had his hands on you.

He kissed his wife goodbye that morning, watching her limp out to her car and hiss as she sat down, but he didn’t feel guilty, anger still simmering under his skin. He waited for you in the living room, seating in the recliner that faced the door with his arms crossed and face scrunched up.

The moment he heard the knob turn, he surged forward, gripping you by the wrist and pulling you to your room, over the stairs and down the hall, shutting the door behind him loudly. He tore through the your clothes, ripping your panties with a shift of a hand and had you spread open for him. He was less than lenient with you, spitting on your hole and fingering you roughly, thick fingers pumping in and out of you and rolling your clit with his thumb.

He only did the minimum, stretching you out slightly so that you could feel every inch of him when he pushed in, wanting to hear whine and cry as he fucked you. He wasn’t teasing or playful like he usually was, in his haze of anger and jealousy, König was rough, domineering and mean. He split you in half on his cock, pounding into you with loud and hard thrusts, his balls slapping loudly against your slick-coated ass.

He had you folded in two, legs pressed to your chest, feet hanging off his shoulders as he towered you, his shadow looming menacingly over you. He bent forward, lips wrapping around your neck and shoulders, teeth biting into your skin, digging into your supple flesh and bleeding it, rivulets of ichor rolled down your fresh bite. He hissed and growled, spitting degrading insults, names, in your ear, relishing in the tears that fell from your lashes, sweet and salty drops that he lapped up with a bloody tongue.

He fucked you until he grew oversensitive, the leaky tip gushing ropes of cum inside you and his blood pumping through his bulging veins. He shuddered every time he came, watching your stomach bloat with his cock and cum, your pleasure painting a thick, white ring around the base of his shaft. Your room smelled of sex and sweat, your near unconscious form laying limp on the bed, fingers still grasping onto the sheets and legs spread over his elbow, eyes zoned to your heat.

“No more sleepovers, understood, Schatz?” Your stepfather growled, hand tilting your chin up to stare into his red-rimmed eyes.

Taglist: @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @bvxygriimes @distracteddragoness @konigsblog @havoc973 @im-making-an-effort @daisychainsinknots @0alk0msan @danielle143 @dont-mind-me-just-existing-sadly @tuttifuckinfruttifriday @kaelysia @notspiders @velvetsoulweaver @petwifed @aldis-nuts @randominstake

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rizzlesregal13 · 2 months ago

Text

Maybe Using Magic Isn’t That Bad… Not When It’s Just The Two Of Us

***NSFW - MDNI***

Agatha x Reader 💜

With the Saturday night dance party over, and Nicki & Ella finally tucked up in bed, what started as playful teasing quickly turns into something more...especially when your magic gets involved.

A/N: I had no intention for this to decend into smut central… it was supposed to be cute and fluffy… clearly my mind had other ideas. Oopsie 🙈😏

Saturday evenings in our house were always “something”.

Not the “witchcraft and chaos” kind of “something” Agatha revelled in... well, not just that... but the good kind. The kind where our living room became a dance floor, the music was too loud, on this occasion Pink Pony Club, a small disco ball spun, and any sense of decorum flew right out the window.

And tonight...was no exception.

Ella was perched on my hip, giggling uncontrollably as I spun and tipped her in time with the beat. Her little hands clung to my shoulders, her brunette curls bouncing with every move. She wasn’t even trying to dance anymore, she was just enjoying the ride, possibly thinking I was her very own “pink pony”.

Nicki, on the other hand, was locked in an ambitious battle with Agatha, attempting a step-cross-leg manoeuvre that neither of them were doing particularly well at. Agatha towered over him, her longer legs working against Nicki’s as he stubbornly tried to keep up and not trip over her feet.

The result? Absolute, silliness.

“Kid, if I stretch you just a teensy bit, I think we might nail this,” Agatha teased, her blue eyes flashing with mirth.

“Hey! No magic!” I shot her a look, though my amusement was hard to hide. “This is a magic-free dance floor.”

Agatha huffed dramatically, clutching her chest as if I had just shot her.

“You wound me, hon. Truly.”

“You’ll live.” I smirked, twirling Ella one last time before setting her down so she could run to Nicki and Agatha.

Nicki, determined to master the step, dragged Ella into the mix, her tiny feet mimicking his with unwavering enthusiasm. This was what it was all about. Not the spells, not magic, not the thrill of bending reality to our will.

Just this… the four of us.

I watched as Agatha’s expression softened, her ever-present smirk shifting into something… gentler, something unguarded. There were no sharp smirks, no teasing, no wicked little grins that she wore like armour. Just her, just Agatha, playing with our kids. Being soft in a way she rarely let herself be… that very few people got to see.

And god, it kills me how much I love her in moments like this.

Because I know her past. I know she isn’t perfect. I know she’s done terrible things, that she’s hurt people, taken what she’s wanted without caring about the consequences. And yet, here she is, with her arm around our son and daughter making up crazy dances, as laughter ripples out of all three of them, like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

She caught me watching her, and in true Agatha fashion, cocked a knowing brow.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“Liar.”

She left Nicki & Ella, and prowled toward me, slipping an arm around my waist before I could protest.

“You were having a moment.”

I rolled my eyes. “I was not.”

“Oh, you so were.” She leaned in, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “What was it this time? Overwhelmed by my stunning dance skills? Enchanted by my presence?”

“More like overwhelmed by your complete lack of rhythm.”

Agatha gasped. “How dare you.”

I laughed, wrapping my arms around her neck. “Face it, you’re powerful, brilliant, ridiculously sexy… but… you dance like a drunk cat.”

She grinned. “But you love me anyway.”

I sighed dramatically. “Against my better judgment.”

The music swelled around us, but for a moment, it was just the two of us. No magic, no responsibilities—just Agatha, in my arms, her hands resting at my hips like they belonged there.

“I love you,” she murmured, so low I barely caught it.

My heart did that stupid, crazy thing where it forgot how to function properly, missing a beat. Of course I knew she loved me, but those three little words were never something she threw about easily.

“I love you too.”

Nicki’s voice broke through before she could kiss me.

“Ew! Mom and Mama are being gross again!”

Ella giggled, clapping her hands over her eyes.

“We have to do something about their timing.” Agatha groaned, burying her face in my shoulder.

I just laughed, tugging her back into the dance party and the chaos of our two kids, before she could plot something truly wicked.

***

It had gotten late. We’d managed to get the kids in bed fairly hassle free. Nicki had crashed mid-sentence, mumbling something about being the best dancer in the family, and Ella had insisted on one last bedtime story before her eyes, that were so like Agatha's, betrayed her and fluttered shut.

Now, the house was still. Not silent… never truly silent with the lingering energy of two overactive kids, but still enough that I could finally relax. Agatha stood in the kitchen, pouring two glasses of wine before handing me one, the deep red liquid catching the dim kitchen light as I took a slow sip.

I leaned back against the counter, eyes drifting through the open archway into the living room; a battlefield of discarded blankets, scattered toys, the disco ball still spinning, and upturned cushions.

Agatha followed my gaze, her smirk lazy, knowing.

“It can wait until tomorrow.”

She was right. It could wait. But something about ending the night with the house in disarray made my fingers twitch… my magic spark. So, with a subtle flick, the room righted itself. Cushions fluffed and stacked back on to the sofa, the coffee table straightened, the disco ball stopped and materialised inside the cupboard. The craziness of earlier now looked like nothing more than a memory.

I barely turned my head before I felt it—Agatha’s eyes on me, her smirk widening as she took a slow sip of her wine.

“Using magic, are we?”

I shrugged, pretending I didn’t feel the way her gaze sent warmth curling through me.

“I like waking up to a clean house.”

Agatha set her glass down with an amused chuckle, stepping into my space, her hands resting lightly on the counter on either side of me.

“Mm. Sure. That’s the reason.”

I arched a brow. “And what other reason would there be?”

Her smirk deepened. “Oh, I don’t know. Maybe you just enjoy it.”

She leaned in, her voice dropping just enough to make my breath catch.

“Maybe it’s not so bad, using what you were born with.”

I rolled my eyes, tilting my head back slightly.

“Don’t start.”

“Start what?” she teased, her lips just brushing against my jaw before pulling back. “I’m just saying, for someone who claims they don’t like usung their magic freely, who would rather do things the “normal” way, you sure didn’t hesitate.”

I huffed, lifting my glass to my lips again. “It’s practical.”

“It’s magic.”

“Magic can be practical.”

Agatha tilted her head, her fingers tracing idle patterns on the countertop beside me.

“And yet, when I use it to summon a bottle of wine instead of walking to the kitchen, you give me that look.”

I bit back a smile. “That’s different.”

She scoffed, feigning offence. “How?”

I swirled the wine in my glass, meeting her blue gaze with a knowing smirk of my own. “Because when you use magic, you always take it a step too far.”

Agatha clutched her chest, staggering back a step.

“How dare you?”

“Example, you magicked Mrs Hart’s garden gnome into an actual gnome, Agatha.”

“In my defence, he was boring, and Nicki and Ella loved it.”

I shook my head, laughing softly as she stepped back into my space. She nudged my glass aside just enough to steal a quick sip before pressing a kiss to the corner of my mouth.

“Mm,” she hummed, savouring the wine. “Practical or not, I like it when you use magic.”

I let out a small sigh, resting my forehead against hers for just a moment. “You would.”

She grinned. “Of course, I would.”

I watched as Agatha picked up her wine glass, her fingers curling around the delicate stem. She took a slow sip, eyes locked onto mine over the rim, that ever-present smirk tugging at the corner of her lips.

Then, without a word, she turned to walk away.

What happened next… I don’t think I could have controlled it even if I’d wanted to. Let’s just say that deep rooted instinct “that I was born with” kicked in.

Agatha barely had time to process before she was spinning back toward me, my magic curling around her like an invisible ribbon. She stopped just inches away, her blue eyes flickering with something between amusement and intrigue.

“Oh?” she murmured, head tilting as that wicked smirk continued to play on her lips. “Now who’s taking things a step too far?”

I stepped closer, slow, deliberate, my own smirk mirroring hers.

“Did you think you were going somewhere?”

Her eyes dipped to my mouth for just a fraction of a second before locking back onto mine, her breath steady but charged.

“Maybe. But you seem to have other plans.”

I lifted my hand, magic humming in my fingertips as I plucked her wine glass from her grip without touching it, letting it float over to rest beside mine on the countertop. She watched it land, then turned back to me with an arched brow.

“Oh, look at you,” she murmured, voice dripping with something almost sultry. “Using magic without a care.”

I laughed, stepping in until there was barely any space between us. “Seems you’re a terrible influence.”

“I certainly try,” she whispered, eyes glinting in the low kitchen light.

She didn’t pull away. Neither did I.

Instead, I reached up, fingers ghosting along the sleeve of her deep green sweater, tracing the wool before slipping lower, to the warmth of her wrist. Agatha let out a breath, not quite a sigh, not quite a laugh, as I slowly walked her back toward the counter.

Her hands found my hips first, then my waist, her touch familiar, teasing, taunting.

“So,” she drawled, eyes never leaving mine, “what exactly are your plans?”

I grinned, tilting my head slightly as I let my magic flare again—not enough to startle her, but enough to send a playful spark up her spine.

“I thought you liked it when I used magic.”

Agatha let out a low hum of approval.

“Oh, I do.”

“Then stop talking.”

And for once, she actually listened.

I ran my fingers back up her sleeve, slow and deliberate, letting my magic tingle against her skin like the faintest brush of static. Agatha inhaled sharply, her breath catching for just a moment—not because she was surprised, but because she liked it.

I smirked, letting my fingers trail higher, up the curve of her neck, where I felt the rapid thrum of her pulse beneath my touch. Then her jaw, where she tilted her head slightly into it, anticipation curling between us. And finally, across her lips.

Her eyes fluttered closed at the sensation, her breath warm against my fingertips.

“You’re playing with fire, Y/N,” she murmured, lips parting just enough for her voice to slip through, low and dangerous.

I hummed in response, trailing my fingers back down to her collarbone, then pressing my palm flat against her chest, feeling the steady rise and fall of her breath beneath it.

“Funny,” I mused, tilting my head. “I thought you were the dangerous one.”

Agatha’s eyes blinked open, dark and smouldering, her smirk creeping back. “Oh, I am,” she purred. “But you… you’re finally starting to realise that you are too.”

I leaned in, close enough that my lips barely brushed hers, our noses ghosting, but not quite closing the distance. The air between us crackled, magic humming, but neither of us were in a hurry to break it.

Then, because I couldn’t resist, I let my magic flare again, just a whisper of power tracing along her skin, making her shiver.

Agatha let out a quiet, breathy laugh.

“Oh, I really like this side of you.”

I grinned. “Thought you might.”

She made a sound—half approval, half impatience, before she finally closed the space between us, her lips pressing against mine in a kiss that was slow but intent, teasing but undeniable with what she wanted.

My fingers curled into the wool covering her body, pulling her in, and Agatha let me—for now. But I knew her. Knew that any second now, she’d turn the tables, take control, push back just to see how far I’d let her go.

That was the game she played, we played.

The one we both loved.

I fingered the hem of her sweater, my touch slow, teasing, before I finally tugged it upward. She didn’t stop me—didn’t hesitate—just lifted her arms to let me pull it over her head and toss it aside.

The moment it was gone, she was on me again, her hands slipping around my waist as she pulled me into another kiss. This one was deeper, more intent, her lips parting against mine as if she had no interest in keeping space between us.

When she finally broke away, her breath warm against my skin, I felt it... A shift, a pulling in the fabric of my shirt that I wasn’t responsible for.

I glanced down just in time to see my buttons undoing themselves, one by one, the fabric falling open to expose my skin.

My breath hitched, heat pooling low in my stomach, and when I lifted my gaze, Agatha was watching me with a smirk—one that matched my own.

“I see we’re not bothering with patience tonight,” I murmured, my voice lower than I intended.

Agatha hummed, reaching out to trace a finger along the navy lace of my bra, her touch featherlight.

“I’d argue I’ve been very patient,” she countered, her voice dripping with amusement. “You’re the one who started playing with magic.”

I bit my lip, watching the way her fingers teased at the lace, her gaze dark, considering.

“So what happens next?” I asked, my own hands slipping to her waist, feeling the warmth of her bare skin beneath my palms.

Agatha leaned in, her lips barely ghosting over mine, her breath sending a delicious shiver down my spine.

“Oh, hon,” she purred, her fingers slipping lower, dragging over my stomach with just enough pressure to make me ache.

“What doesn’t happen next?”

I couldn’t stop the involuntary moan that slipped from my lips at Agatha’s words. That wicked, knowing smirk of hers deepened, as if she had expected that reaction, as if she had been waiting for it.

But two could play that game.

My fingers twitched, and with a quiet pop, the button of her jeans came undone. A second later, the zipper slid down in a slow, deliberate motion, the sound filling the space between us.

Agatha’s breath hitched, just barely, but I caught it.

I didn’t stop there.

Stepping back, I let my magic press against her jeans, coaxing them to slip down from her hips, past the curve of her thighs, pooling at her feet.

She didn’t move to stop me. Didn’t move at all, except to lift her feet free. She stood there, her lip caught between her teeth as she watched me with blown, approving eyes.

Oh, she really liked me using magic—especially like this.

“Interesting,” she murmured, her voice like silk, like sin. “You do have a wicked streak, after all.”

I took a slow step forward, closing the distance I had put between us. My fingers found her waist, my touch light but firm.

“You bring it out in me,” I admitted, tilting my head slightly, watching her expression shift... anticipation, desire, something close to pride.

Agatha’s hands found my bare skin, her touch sending a fresh wave of heat through me.

“I love bringing things out in you,” she purred, fingers trailing along the back band of my bra, her magic sparking faintly against my skin, making me shiver.

I swallowed, my own smirk returning.

“Then you’re going to love what happens next.”

Her eyes flickered with amusement, challenge… hunger.

“Oh, darling,” she whispered, lips brushing against mine just enough to tease. “Show me.”

Happily.

I trailed my fingers over her chest, skimming over the soft skin above the fabric of her black bra, feeling the way her breath caught beneath my touch. My magic followed, leaving behind a faint, tingling sensation as it traced between her cleavage, along her ribs, down her stomach, dipping over her hip before gliding up the inside of her thigh.

Agatha let out a breath, her body shivering, reacting slightly under the sensation, but she didn’t stop me.

Not yet.

I smirked, watching her closely, revelling in the way she responded, the way her lips parted just so, the way her pupils continued to grow as she watched me.

When I reached the edge of her panties, I let my magic surge, just a bit stronger, the warmth of it teasing against her, slipping beneath the material.

That’s when I felt it... her fingers curling firmly around my wrist, stopping me in my tracks.

My gaze snapped up to hers, meeting those sharp, knowing eyes.

Agatha’s grip was firm but not forceful, her smirk just as wicked as before, but now there was something else behind it—a need for her to be in control.

“Ah, ah, not yet” she murmured, tilting her head, her voice thick with something that sent heat pooling low between my thighs. I swallowed, my heart pounding, my breath uneven.

“Stopping me already?”

Her fingers tightened, her smirk deepening. “I never said stop,” she purred, leaning in just enough that I could feel her breath against my lips. “I said not yet.”

A shiver ran through me, her words like a spark catching fire.

Agatha slowly, deliberately, lifted my wrist, guiding my hand away from where I had been heading, dragging it instead up her body, pressing my palm against the centre of her chest, just above her heart.

“Patience,” she whispered, pressing a teasing kiss to my jaw.

I let out a slow breath, my fingers twitching against her skin.

She was going to make me work for this.

I smirked, pressing my body closer, my hips tilting forward against hers, my lips grazing her ear.

“I hope you know,” I murmured, my own voice dangerously low, my magic skirting lightly against her exposed skin, “I never lose.”

Agatha’s laughter was dark, promising.

“Then you’re going to love losing to me.”

I let out a slow breath, trailing my free hand back over her body, fingers brushing over her skin, my magic following like a whisper of heat. Agatha shivered beneath my touch, her lips parting slightly, her grip on my wrist loosening. I could feel it now…the crackling energy between us, the push and pull, magic flaring like a slow-burning fire. It felt reckless, deliciously so.

Because the kids were just upstairs… and they could come down at any moment.

And yet, neither of us stopped.

Agatha’s magic sparked, brushing against me like an invisible caress, and before I could process the shift, I felt it—the clasp of my bra releasing, the straps slipping slightly from my shoulders.

I inhaled sharply, looking up to find her smirking, blue eyes gleaming with satisfaction.

“That was very smooth,” I murmured, feigning nonchalance as I let my own magic tease along the edge of her panties in return.

Agatha hummed, her fingers toying with the loosened strap of my bra, dragging it down just enough to expose more of me.

“I do try.”

I swallowed, my body heating under her gaze.

“And if the kids...”

Her lips brushed my ear, then to the spot where my ear met my neck, her magic pressing against my skin, firm and knowing.

“They’re asleep,” she murmured. “You worry too much.”

I let out a breathy laugh, even as a shiver ran through me. “One of us has to be responsible.”

Agatha leaned back slightly, her smirk widening as she took me in. She traced her fingers down the valley of my now exposed breasts, then lower, down over my stomach, just above my waistband.

“You could stop me?”

I exhaled sharply, meeting her gaze, the challenge clear between us.

I could… was I going to… absolutely not.

Because right now?

I wasn’t feeling very responsible.

I barely had time to process the flick of her fingers before I felt the cool air against my legs—my jeans weren’t undone, they were gone. Just… disappeared, like they’d never existed.

I gasped, my body tensing for half a second before I caught the wicked glint in Agatha’s blue eyes.

“Really?” I breathed, half-laughing, half-reeling from the abrupt removal. She smirked, eyes trailing over me now that I was left in nothing but my panties.

“You were taking too long.”

Before I could throw some snarky reply back at her, she was on me again, her lips trailing hot, deliberate kisses down my chest.

I sucked in a breath as she pressed in closer, her bare skin warm against mine, her hands roaming—one resting against my lower back, the other teasing over my hip, her fingers just brushing the lace of my underwear.

The living room, the kitchen, everything else faded to the background.

It was just her. Just us.

And I wasn’t thinking about the kids, or responsibility, or even the reckless way we were tangled up here, barely clothed, not caring about anything else but this.

Agatha’s mouth found the curve of my breast, then my nipple, her teeth scraping lightly before she soothed the spot with her tongue, pulling a gasp from me.

I dug my fingers into her back, tilting my head as she kissed lower, teasing, deliberate.

“I knew you’d like that,” she murmured against my skin.

I let out something between a laugh and a shaky breath.

“I hate how smug you are.”

She grinned, pressing a kiss just above my navel.

“No, you don’t.”

I swallowed hard, my fingers threading into her dark waves as her lips trailed even lower.

No.

No, I really didn’t.

I thought she was going to drop to her knees... god, I was ready for her to.

But then I felt it—my feet lifting from the floor, my body moving, guided by something unseen but all too familiar. Before I could even gasp, I was placed onto the cool surface of the kitchen counter, thighs spread wide, my balance steady only because she wanted it to be.

Agatha stepped between my legs, hands running up my thighs, and I knew she had done this on purpose—to see me, to make sure I knew exactly what I looked like right now, open and wanting, the evidence of it soaking through the thin lace of my underwear.

Her eyes glanced low as she took in the sight, and god, the way she looked at me... like she had just won a game we weren’t even playing... made the heat between my legs burn even hotter.

I swallowed hard, my breath uneven.

“You could’ve just asked,” I murmured, my voice rougher, more ragged than I intended.

Agatha hummed, dragging her nails lightly along the inside of my thighs, making me shiver.

“Where’s the fun in that?”

Her hands inched higher, her fingers pressing just enough to make me squirm, but not enough to satisfy. She was toying with me, drawing this out, enjoying the way my body responded to her.

I let out a shaky breath, reaching for her, gripping the back of her neck to pull her closer.

“Agatha—”

Her smirk deepened, and I barely had time to react before her lips were on mine, hot, claiming, stealing the words right out of my mouth.

And just as I started to sink into it, our tongues fighting for dominance, just as I was about to beg her to do something, I felt it.. another pulse of magic.

A beat later, my panties were gone.

I moaned, the sudden coolness making me shiver, making me ache. My body was so hot, so wound tight I thought I might snap from nothing more than the way she was looking at me.

I spread my legs wider for her, an offering, a surrender. God, I was hers and she knew it. I would let her do anything.

And she was enjoying it—relishing the way I melted for her, the way I was already undone before she had even really touched me.

Her fingers trailed higher, slow, deliberate, teasing the inside of my thigh, her touch light enough to make me want, to make me need her. And then—finally—she stroked me. Just the barest drag of her fingers through my wet folds, and my hips jerked instinctively, desperate for more.

But she didn’t give it me.

She was toying with me, dragging this out, revelling in the way I responded to just the teasing touches of her left hand, the way my breath hitched, the way my thighs trembled under her.

I let out a whimper, gripping the edge of the counter like I could ground myself, like I could will her to give in.

Then I felt it.

Not just her fingers… but her magic.

It pulsed through me, against me, inside me, invisible but undeniable, like a current sparking through every nerve in my body.

I gasped, my back arching, my head rolling back as a husky moan tore from my lips.

It was unlike anything I’d ever felt before—so intimate, so deep, touching something in me that was beyond the physical.

Agatha hummed, pleased, her fingers still stroking, circling, her magic still pressing, teasing, building.

“Oh,” she murmured, voice dripping with amusement and something darker, something possessive. “You really like that, don’t you?”

I couldn’t answer her.

I could barely breathe.

“Agatha,” I moaned, my hips moving instinctively, chasing more—more friction, more of her, more of whatever spell she was weaving around me… inside of me. God, what was she doing to me?

The pleasure was overwhelming, sharp and sweet all at once, twisting inside me until I forgot everything else—where we were, how loud I was being, how reckless this was.

I knew I should be quieter, knew I should at least try to keep it together. But all I could feel was her—her fingers sliding through my slickness, teasing me open, her magic pulsing in a way that sent hot sparks licking up over my clit. She was dragging this out, savouring every reaction, every damn sound I made. She stepped back slightly, just enough to watch, her blue eyes locked onto where her fingers were playing with me, spreading me, owning me.

I whimpered, my body twitching with need, and she smirked—knowing, utterly devastating.

“I think…” I managed to breathe, my voice uneven, shaking, “it’s not just me that likes this…”

Agatha let out a low, approving hum, her fingers pressing just a bit deeper, just a bit firmer, making me gasp, but not giving me enough.

“Mmm,” she murmured, tilting her head, her eyes still fixed on me, watching every little movement, every little reaction. “You have no idea.”

“Please, baby,” I moaned, my voice desperate, needy. Any restraint I might have had was long gone, tossed out the window along with my inhibitions.

I needed her. Inside me. Not teasing, not playing, not making me fall apart inch by inch—I needed her to take me.

Agatha smirked, her fingers still tormenting me, tracing the edges of my entrance but never quite pushing inside. Her magic rippled through me again, that slow, electric pulse that made my body tremble, made my breath hitch.

I whimpered, hips arching, trying to move against her, trying to take her deeper myself.

But she just tsked, keeping her touch just out of reach.

“What do you want, Y/N,” she murmured, voice silky, but dangerously in control.

I moaned, my body aching with need. God, she knew exactly what I wanted, knew exactly how desperate I was.

And she was thriving in it.

I bucked my hips again, trying to push her fingers inside me, but she stayed firm, just barely pressing, just enough to keep me on edge.

“Use your words,” she purred.

I whimpered again, my fingers gripping the edge of the counter so tight my knuckles turned white.

“Agatha, please,” I gasped, my voice breaking. “I need you inside me. Now… Just… fuck me.”

Her smirk deepened, satisfaction flickering across her face.

“There you go,” she murmured, leaning in close, her lips brushing the side of my face. And then—finally—she gave me what I wanted.

I had no idea how I didn’t wake the kids. Jesus, the noise that left me—the desperate, broken moan that ripped from my throat as she finally gave me what I needed.

Her fingers.

Her magic.

Inside of me, stretching, filling… fucking me.

Agatha’s left hand was buried deep, her ring and middle fingers deep, sinking in all the way to her engagement and wedding band, the cool metal pressing against my entrance, a constant reminder of who I belonged to.

Fuck.

It was consuming. Unlike anything I had ever felt before, like every nerve in my body was attuned to her, to the way she moved inside me, thrusting, twisting, curling her fingers just right, hitting that spot that made me see stars.

I barely registered the way I clung to her, my nails dragging down her back, my thighs trembling against her sides. All I could focus on was her, the way she was watching me, blue eyes gleaming, drinking in the way I was falling apart beneath her, around her. She fucking loved this…Loved the way I writhed, the way I gasped her name, the way I had lost any semblance of control.

“Agatha,” I choked out, my breath ragged, my body burning.

I could feel it, building inside me, higher and higher, like I was standing at the edge of something I might never come back from.

She curled her fingers again—fuck, right there—her magic pressing at the same time, flooding through me, deep, touching something I couldn’t even name.

"Oh, baby—right there,” I gasped, my voice breaking. “Don’t—”I didn’t even know what I was begging for.

More? Mercy?

I couldn’t control myself. The way I was acting, the way I was moving, chasing her, chasing this, my body desperate, needy, starving for more of her.

The need for her to fuck me like she never had before.

And god, she knew it.

But fuck... she was doing it on our kitchen counter.

The thought should’ve made me laugh—should’ve made me pause, should’ve reminded me that the Nicki and Ella were just upstairs—but I didn’t care. I couldn’t care.

Not with her inside me.

Not with her fingers pushing, curling, twisting in ways that made my body tremble, made me forget everything but the pleasure she was pulling from me.

The sound—the obscene, wet sound of her fingers moving inside me filled the room, mixing with my gasps, my moans, the quiet murmurs of encouragement from her lips.

“That’s it, baby,” she purred, her voice as dark as her magic, her free hand gripping my thigh, keeping me spread wide for her. For her to see. For her to take. “Let me hear you.”

I let out a strangled moan, my hands scrambling against the counter, my body arching. I couldn’t control it anymore, couldn’t stop the way I moved against her, how I chased it, chased her.

“Fuck… baby…” I gasped, barely able to breathe. “I—”

I didn’t even know what I was trying to say.

That I was close? That I was hers? That I was about to come apart so completely, I wasn’t sure I’d ever put myself back together again?

It didn’t matter.

Because she knew, and nothing was going to make her stop.

“Feel me inside you,” she whispered against my mouth, her breath hot, her voice thick with dark amusement, with possession.

Her fingers pumped deeper, curling just right, her magic rippling inside me in a way that made my body shudder, my breath come out in desperate, choked gasps.

“Squeeze me, baby.” Her lips brushed mine, her smirk infuriatingly smug as she felt me clench around her. “That’s a good girl”.

I was so far gone.

I couldn’t think, couldn’t form a single coherent thought beyond her—her fingers fucking me open, her magic thrumming through my veins, her body owning mine in a way that I never wanted to end.

The pleasure was blinding, all-consuming, twisting tighter and tighter, coiling in my stomach, in my thighs, in the very marrow of my bones.

“Oh, fuck,” I gasped, my hands gripping at her—her shoulders, her arms, anything to anchor me as my body tensed, trembling.

I was going to come.

God, I was going to come so fucking hard for her—from her, because of her, because of her fingers, her magic, her voice in my ear telling me to let go.

And when it finally snapped—when the pleasure crashed over me—I moaned her name, as if it was fresh out of a porn movie.

That was one of the most intense orgasms I’d ever had.

Holy fuck.

I was still trembling, my body shuddering with aftershocks as Agatha’s fingers worked the last of the pleasure from me, coaxing me through it. My hips still jerked, my body still reacted to her, even as I collapsed forward, my head resting against her shoulder.

I let out a breathless, satisfied laugh—maybe from the sheer bliss of it, maybe from the slight embarrassment of how completely I had let go.

And then, realisation hit me like a brick to the face.

I had been so loud.

“Shit,” I gasped, lifting my head to look at her, panic flickering through the lingering haze of pleasure.

“I wasn’t—”

“—quiet?” Agatha finished, her smirk wicked, amused. “No, darling. You really weren’t.”

I groaned, covering my face with my hands, but before I could wallow in my mortification, I felt the slow, deliberate slide of her fingers pulling out of me. My body ached at the loss, already missing her touch.

Then, without breaking eye contact, she lifted her fingers to her lips and sucked them clean.

I swore my soul left my body.

She hummed, deliberate, slow, as she licked every trace of me off her fingers. My breath hitched, my stomach flipping, my already sensitive body twitching at the sheer filthiness of it.

Then she grabbed my jaw and pulled me into a kiss, her tongue sliding into my mouth, teasing, letting me taste myself on her.

And—fuck.

It was different. Not just me—but her, her magic, something dark and electric and entirely Agatha lingering on my tongue.

When we finally broke apart, I was dazed, spent, and still shaking from what she’d just done to me.

“Don’t worry,” she murmured, brushing a strand of hair from my face, her smirk deepening. “The kids wouldn’t have heard a thing.”

I raised an eyebrow, suspicious.

She lifted a hand and subtly flicked her fingers.

I narrowed my eyes. “You didn’t—”

“Oh, it was just a little sleeping spell,” she purred, grinning like the devil.

I gaped at her.

“Agatha!”

She shrugged. “You were being loud, darling.”

I groaned, dropping my forehead back against her shoulder, already knowing this had set a precedent for it becoming more than a one-time thing.

“It would be a shame to waste it,” Agatha murmured, leaning into me, her bare skin pressing against mine, warm and tempting.

“Would it now?” I teased, though my voice lacked conviction.

I was still not entirely thrilled about the magic she had used to keep Nicki and Ella asleep, but… god, was I torn.

Because the way she was looking at me?

The way my body still hummed from her touch?

I wanted her.

Again.

And again.

She slid me down off the counter, my legs unsteady, still trembling from my release. I gripped her tight, my body weak but aching for her all the same.

Agatha hummed, amused. “A little wobbly there, hon?”

I huffed, gripping her tighter. “You know damn well why.”

She smirked, proud of herself, too proud, and before she could get another word out, I flicked my wrist.

Magic surged between us, wrapping around our bodies, and in an instant, we were no longer in the kitchen.

We were in our king-size bed—Agatha beneath me, sprawled out, panties now completely gone.

She let out a low, pleased hum, her smirk widening as she stretched out, utterly unbothered by the sudden shift.

“Oh,” she purred, blue eyes glinting, “look at you. Using magic like it’s going out of fashion.”

I merely arched a brow, pressing my body flush against hers, trapping her beneath me.

I leaned in, capturing her lips in a deep, slow-burning kiss, my hands trailing down her stomach, teasing but intentional.

As I broke the kiss, I let my fingers drift lower, my magic sparking against her skin as I smirked down at her.

“So,” I murmured, my voice low, my touch dangerously close to where she wanted it. “Where were we?”

I trailed my fingers lower, slow, teasing, the anticipation thrumming between us like a live wire.

Then I felt her.

And—Jesus. She was soaking.

A sharp inhale left my lips as my fingers dipped between her thighs, sliding against her wetness, between her folds, feeling just how wrecked she already was.

I lifted my gaze, meeting her eyes, my breath catching at the pure, unfiltered desire burning in them.

“Oh,” I murmured, my fingers teasing through her slickness, not quite giving her what she needed yet.

“Look at you.”

Agatha let out a breathy laugh, her smirk still in place, but her body twitched at the contact, her hips subtly shifting, needing more.

“Surprised?” she mused, though her voice was a little rougher, a little less composed than usual.

I grinned, pressing my fingers against her just a little more firmly, noting the way her breath hitched, as I brushed her clit.

“Pleased.”

I slid my fingers through her again, slow, deliberate, watching her expression shift, watching her lips part, her chest rise and fall just a bit quicker.

“God, baby,” I murmured, my voice dark with satisfaction, “you’re already so fucking wet for me.”

Agatha hummed, but this time, there was an edge to it.

“You did put on quite the show,” she murmured, her tone taunting, but I could feel the tension in her body, feel the way she was holding herself back.

I smirked, leaning down, brushing my lips against her ear as my fingers pressed deeper, teasing at her entrance but not pushing inside…just yet.

“Do you want me to return the favour?” I whispered, my breath warm against her skin.

Agatha swallowed, her hands tightening where they rested against my hips, her nails digging in just slightly.

But she was still playing the game, still trying to hold her ground.

So I waited.

I kept teasing, barely giving her what she wanted—until, finally, she let out a soft, frustrated moan, her hips arching, her magic flowing against mine in a way that sent a shiver down my spine.

Her voice was rough, low, almost a growl when she finally said it.

“Fuck me.”

I grinned against her skin.

“Oh, baby, I intend to.”

And then I slid my fingers inside her, and Agatha gasped.

God, she was so tight around me.

Nothing—nothing—felt better than this.

Than her.

Her heat.

I started moving, slow at first, deliberate, knowing full well it wasn’t enough, knowing it would drive her crazy.

Agatha let out a low, frustrated noise, her hips twitching, trying to take more, trying to set the pace herself.

But I wasn’t going to let her.

Not yet.

I wanted to feel her break, wanted to hear her beg, wanted to pull her apart the way she had done to me.

I pressed my lips against her jaw, nipping her with my teeth, teasing, dragging my fingers slowly out before pushing back in, keeping the rhythm achingly slow.

“Patience, baby,” I murmured against her skin, mocking the words she had said to me earlier.

Agatha let out a breathy laugh, sharp and knowing, but I could hear the edge of need beneath it.

“Oh, you’re playing dangerously, hon,” she whispered, her nails digging into my back, her magic thrumming against mine.

I grinned, pressing my thumb against her clit, just lightly, just enough to make her body twitch beneath me.

“I thought you liked that,” I murmured, thrusting deeper, still keeping her waiting, still teasing her with every slow movement.

Agatha let out a shaky breath, her walls tightening around me, her hips shifting restlessly.

Then she turned her head, her lips brushing against my ear, her voice lower, rougher, more raw than I’d ever heard it.

“Stop fucking teasing me,” she growled.

I shivered, the pure desperation in her tone setting my blood on fire.

Mmm—fuck.

I couldn’t deny her anymore.

Not when she sounded like that.

Not when she felt like this.

So I broke, curling my fingers deep inside her, pressing hard against that spot that made her body jerk, that made her gasp so loud I knew she didn’t care if the sleeping spell held or not.

I fucked her.

Hard.

And god, she love it.

I thrust hard, my fingers driving deep inside her, my thumb pressing against her clit at the same time… a warm burn starting to spread through my wrist.

The moment I did, I felt it—my magic crackling between us, wrapping around her, inside her, like an invisible pulse of heat.

Agatha’s moan was wrecked, raw, her body arching up into me, her head tilting back, exposing the long, perfect curve of her throat.God.

That sound.

That deep, desperate, uncontrollable moan that came from her lips as I fucked her with my fingers, as my magic pulsed through her body.

I felt a rush of heat between my own thighs, felt my own wetness drip down, my body aching from just hearing her.

From watching her come apart.

From knowing I was the one doing this to her.

She was so close, I could feel it in the way she clenched around me, in the way her hips jerked without rhythm, her body chasing more, more, more.

“Oh, fuck, baby,” I gasped, my breath coming out in ragged pants, my own pleasure building just from watching her fall apart.

Agatha’s hands clawed at me, pulling me closer, as if she needed to anchor herself, as if she needed to feel all of me as she unraveled.

Her voice was shaky, breathless, so fucking close to breaking as she gasped:

“Don’t stop—!”

And god help me, I wasn’t going to.

The wet, slick sound of my fingers moving inside her filled the room, mixing with her breathless, broken moans. Fuck, it was the most beautiful thing I’d ever heard.

I never lost my rhythm, I kept thrusting, kept pushing as deep as I could, my fingers scissoring inside her, stretching her, curling to hit that perfect spot that made her body jolt against mine.

She was so damn close—I could feel it in the way she tightened around me, in the way her thighs trembled, her nails digging into my skin, her head thrown back in complete surrender.

“That’s it, baby,” I murmured, my thumb pressing harder against her clit, rubbing fast, tight circles, my lips, my tongue brushing against her throat as I encouraged her.

“Come for me. Let go, Agatha.”

She tried to speak—tried to say something, but all that left her was a strangled, wrecked moan as her body seized, her muscles tensing, her magic crashing against mine in wild, uncontrollable waves.

I felt the exact moment her release came —the moment she shattered around me, her walls pulsing tight, squeezing my fingers so hard it nearly stole my breath.

Her cry of pleasure was raw, undone, her hips jerking, her body writhing as she rode out her orgasm, my fingers still deep inside her, drawing out every last aftershock.

She was so gone, so completely wrecked beneath me, and god, I had never felt so powerful, so fucking addicted to the way she fell apart for me.

Her breath was ragged, her body still trembling, and I couldn’t stop myself—I leaned in, capturing her lips in a deep, slow kiss, tasting her moan, owning it.

When I finally pulled back, she was dazed, her beautiful blue eyes hazy, her lips parted, her chest rising and falling with uneven breaths.

I smirked, satisfied, dragging my fingers slowly out of her, loving the way her body twitched from the loss.

She swallowed, blinking up at me, her expression unreadable for just a second—then her smirk returned, lazy, dangerous, so fucking Agatha.

She let out a breathy chuckle, still wrecked, and rasped “…God Y/N, I knew you had it in you.”

I smirked down at her, utterly pleased with myself, my fingers still glistening from her.

“Oh? And what exactly did you think I had in me?”

Agatha let out a breathless, satisfied laugh, her hands still lazily resting on my hips as she blinked up at me, her eyes still looking hungry.

“Oh, you know,” she drawled, tilting her head, her smirk lazy and self-satisfied, but I could still see the aftershocks running through her body. “A bit of wickedness. A little bite.”

She exhaled, still catching her breath, her fingers brushing idly against my bare skin.

“But this? I wasn’t expecting you to be so…” She trailed off, eyes flickering down to my very smug expression, before licking her lips.

“So?” I prompted, dragging my slick fingers up her thigh, teasing, making her twitch.

Agatha hummed, fake considering, before her smirk turned sharp, wicked.

“Merciless.”

I grinned, leaning down, brushing my lips over hers, just barely giving her what she wanted.

“Oh, baby,” I murmured, dragging my fingers up her stomach, watching her shiver under my touch. “I learned from the best.”

Agatha let out a slow, dark laugh, her fingers tightening on my waist.

“I really should’ve corrupted you sooner.”

I bit my lip, mocking thoughtfulness, my fingers trailing back down, dangerously close to where she was still warm and wet for me.

“Oh? So you admit I’m better than you thought?”

Agatha narrowed her eyes, her smirk growing wider.

“I never said better.”

I flicked my fingers, letting my magic spark just enough to tease her, to make her gasp, her hips twitching again.

“Oh, I think I just proved otherwise.

”Mm,” she murmured, voice hoarse, amused, completely smug. “You really are full of surprises.”

I huffed a soft laugh, pulling her closer, my arms wrapping around her, our bodies naturally melding together, skin still warm, still buzzing from everything we’d just done.

She let out a content sigh, tucking her head against my shoulder, comfortable, relaxed, so effortlessly Agatha.

I let my fingers trace absent patterns up her side, across her ribs, pressing a lazy kiss to her temple.

“You can take the sleeping spell off the kids now,” I murmured, my voice teasing but pointed.

Agatha hummed again, this time slower, considering.

“Mmm,” she sighed, stretching just slightly, her bare legs tangling with mine. “Maybe I’ll leave it on a little longer.”

I snorted, turning my head to look at her, eyebrow raised.

“Oh? Is that so?”

She grinned, her fingers trailing lightly down my own side, casual, innocent, but I knew better.

“Well,” she mused, thoughtfully mocking me, her breath hot against my skin, “you did just discover how much fun magic can be.”

I smirked, shifting just slightly so our bodies pressed even closer, heat curling between us again, despite the exhaustion settling in.

“Maybe,” I murmured, my lips brushing hers, “using my magic more often isn’t such a bad thing…”

Agatha let out a low, pleased hum, her smirk widening as she nipped at my lip.

“Not when it’s just the two of us.”

Also on AO3 - Writtenwhiledreaming 💜 (Third chapter of No! You Can’t Hex A Four-Year-Old).

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