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not into this my elf
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say it to his face. (toxic!ex!rafe)
rafe’s not a very respectful ex. in his defence, seeing you in that little dress triggered him. it had been a while since he’d seen you, let alone those pretty thighs, and he didn’t know how to contain himself. he had bought you that dress, after all.
rafe’s eyebrows furrow from the pool table when he sees you finding another boy at the party. so you’re wearing a dress that rafe bought you while hugging your newest boy toy. it’s almost sad, he thinks, so certain it mean you must still want him.
so, arrogantly, he walks over. “shiiit, y/n, looking good,” he smiles, his hand on your shoulder from beside you so you look over — he always taught you to keep eye contact when he spoke.
you whisper something to your date, a little explanation as to who the hell this was. rafe snaps his fingers in your face when he sees the side conversation and obvious annoyed expression on your face. “hey, hey, what’s going on, huh?”
“rafe, please stop,” you sigh.
“nah nah nah, if you, uh, if you wanna say something about me to your pathetic guy, say it to my face,” he insists, bending his knees a bit to get to your level. “say it to my fuckin face,”
he starts slapping his defined cheekbone with his hand, condescendingly reiterating his former request. “stop it,” you insist. he leans his face in closer.
“and what if i don’t?” he asks, and when you don’t provide an answer, instead just rolling your eyes, he continues. “i just wanna know what you said, baby, don’t be stubborn,”
“i said you were my stupid ex and i apologized to my date for your immaturity,” you say honestly. he stands to his full height once more
“immature?” he repeats, scoffing at the blow to his ego. “yeah, does this guy run his own business? does this guy pay for his own house in figure eight, or do his parents still take care of him? does he even know what fuckin’ aftercare is? cause i sure do, baby, you know that—“
“rafe, stop!” you raise your voice, even though this is the third time you’ve told him to stop and he hasn’t yet.
he scoffs. “no, you stop. call me immature again, dare you,” his face moves over as if he wants you to whisper in his ear.
“you are,” you repeat.
“uuhhh huh,” he nods, as if in thought. “look, i moved houses, i don’t live in tannyhill anymore. here’s my card, has my number. call me and ill send you the address tonight, i’m going home and i’m gonna insist i see you there later,”
“rafe!—“ you start, glancing at your date.
“no, don’t start. don’t say shit. see you there,” he leaves, and in return leaves you standing beside your date, watching him go.
you hate yourself for dialling his number the minute your date is out of sight. you’re in the dress he bought you, for gods sake — you’re never getting rid of him.
#౨ৎ isa’s dream world#⋆˚࿔ rafe 𝜗𝜚˚⋆#obx#outer banks#rafe cameron#rafe cameron x reader#obx x reader#rafe cameron obx#outerbanks rafe#rafe obx#rafe cameron prompt#toxic!ex!rafe#toxic ex bf Rafe#toxic!ex!bf!rafe
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Instant Attraction
Wanda Maximoff x Reader
Word Count: 11.5k
Notes: Stepmom!Wanda, pining, masturbation, kissing, thigh riding, cheating, mommy kink, lmk if there's anything else,
Summary: Your dad calls you home from college unable to afford for you to dorm. He doesn’t let you know that in the time you were gone, he had gotten married. When you meet his wife Wanda, you're instantly attracted to her. That attraction doesn't seem so one sided.
An: Could be persuaded to write another part... after I finish my request
Masterlist
You grew up in a single-parent household. Your dad spent most of his time at work, trying to provide you a better life. You could never hate him for that. Your mother, she decided that motherhood wasn’t for her when you were around 5. She left one night and never came back.
You weren’t a very social kid. You had a few friends, but no real affinity for going out. There was a preference on your side of things to stay in, watch movies, and play games. Even when you grew your interest stay the same.
There were times were your father nearly forced you out of the house, just so he could see the sun touch your skin.
You weren’t the smartest kid, but you weren’t an idiot either. You took your average grades and went to community college securing yourself a general AA before you decided to transfer to a Cal State University. Though your father originally paid for you to dorm, he mentioned that it was a bit expensive.
So next semester you’d be commuting between home and school. Honestly, you’d only dormed because your father had pushed for it in the first place. He’d thought it’d be a good opportunity for you to branch out.
Your roommate, Kate was pretty cool, but in actuality she was a bit of a loser just like you were.
“Back so soon Y/n L/n?”
The thick accent made a smile tug at the ends of your lips, “What can I say, I missed the scariest neighbor on the block. Who’s going to tarnish your hardcore image if it’s not me, Lena?”
You and Yelena had grown up together, she’d been your neighbor for as long as you could remember. One of the few people that you’d let into your social circle.
“I’m back to stay. My dad told me dorming was too expensive, so I get to come back home.”
Yelena laughs lightly, “I bet it’s out of his range now since he’s caring for a woman and her children .”
You look at her dumbfounded. Slowly the laughter stops and the smile disappears from her face.
“What are you talking about?”
“Do you not know?”
Her eyes are wide as she stares at you.
“Know what Yelena?”
She begins to sputter, “Holy shit, what kind of father doesn’t tell his daughter this things?”
You grab her by the shoulders and shake her a little, “What kind of things, Yelena? Would you just tell me?”
“Y/n… you’re father. Sometime near the beginning of your semester, he got married.”
Your eyes bulge out of your head, “He did what?!”
“Her name is Wanda, she’s got 2 sons, twins.”
You open and close your mouth a few times. Laughter builds from inside of you and before you know it, it’s spilling out, “Good one Lena, you almost had me there. My father, married. Jesus Christ, this is why I don’t have too many friends.”
“Y/n, I’m serious.”
“Sure you are, now help me take some of this in the house, since you’re here,” you grab a bag from your trunk, shoving it into the blonde’s hands.
You don’t fumble around looking for your keys, instead opting to ring the doorbell. You told your dad you were coming this weekend, and he said he’d be home to let you in.
“Y/n, I’m really not lying about the marriage,” Yelena nudges you as you wait for the door to open.
You roll your eyes, “Even if I did believe you, what poor woman would marry my father?”
You ring the doorbell again, becoming impatient with waiting.
“Red head, green eyes, mother of 2 kids but you can’t tell from her body. She honestly a really attractive woman, don’t know how he did it,” Yelena goes into the details.
You laugh a little more, “This hypothetical woman sounds like my type. Maybe I could steal her from him.”
Yelena joins in on the laughter, “Not with your inability to speak to women.”
You glare at her, “Not funny.”
Finally the door opens, except it’s not your dad. It’s a woman with red hair, green eyes, a body that definitely doesn’t look like she had two kids. You can’t help but gawk at her.
“You must be Y/n, I’m Wanda. Your father told me to welcome you in, he’s working, but he’ll be back soon.”
“Hi, Mrs. Maximoff,” Yelena spoke with a smirk on her face.
“Yelena, it’s good to see you again. Helping Y/n with her bags?”
Yelena nods, “She needs all the help she can get.”
You shove the blonde while maintaining your gaze on the redhead, “You married my dad?”
She laughs at the disbelief in your voice, “Yes, I did sweetheart. Is that alright with you?”
You’re at a loss for words when you hear her call you sweetheart, “I um… I’m going to head to my room.”
You rush into the house and up the stairs past the red head. Yelena offers the woman a bright smile as she trails behind you a much slower pace.
When the blonde enters your old room she finds you pacing back and forth. Your teeth are sinking into one of your knuckles as you try to get your thoughts going.
“So…”
“You weren’t lying,” you whisper, more to yourself than her.
“I was not.”
You keep pacing, “She has two kids?”
“Yup,” she pops the ‘p', taking a seat on your bed.
You pull out your phone to call your dad. The phone rings, so long that you almost hang up.
“Hey kid, what’s going on?”
You feel your anger growing at his relaxed tone, “ I just got home… and there’s a woman in our house. A woman that Yelena told me that you are married to! Dad, what the fuck? When did you get married? Who is this woman? When did you start dating? She has kids?”
“One question at a time Y/n, please.”
You scoff over the phone, “No, you’ve been lying to me for months now, possibly longer. I deserve the truth.”
You hear him sigh over the phone, “You’re right. I wanted to tell you, but I just didn’t know the right time. Wanda and I had been dating for almost 2 years, I didn’t want to introduce you two before I was sure she was the one.”
“Well technically you still haven’t introduced us. You were supposed to be here today.”
He sighs again, “I know kid, but work called last minute. I know I should’ve been there for this, and I’m fucking it up, but I swear Wanda is amazing, you just have to get to know her.”
“When did you get married?”
“A week after you left, it was… spontaneous. We ended up at courthouse and next thing I know, I’m Mr. Shawn Maximoff.”
You furrow your brow, “You took her last name?”
“It sounds cooler,” he concedes.
It does sound cooler so you don’t argue with him.
“I can’t believe you kept this from me. We’re supposed to be in this together. Thick as thieves, I have your back and you have mine, but you’re lying to me about things this important,” you sit on your bed next to Yelena.
“Y/n, I’m sorry. I’ll make it up to I promise. How about I come home right now, and we can talk about it in person?”
“That’s a start,” you relent.
“Alright, I’ll see you soon, love you.”
You let out a sigh of your own, “Love you, bye.”
When you hang up the phone, your head lands on Yelena’s shoulder. She pulls you into her side, rubbing your shoulder for comfort.
“There, there my friend. I’m sure everything will work out fine between you and your father. If not, you could always go with the plan of stealing Wanda away from him.”
You push her away from you, “Not funny.”
Yelena raises her hands in surrender, “It was just a suggestion.”
“Help me unpack,” you begin to unload your belongings.
Yelena deflates, but helps you regardless. When you’re done you can hear a car pull up in the driveway.
“Looks like your dad’s home.”
“Great.”
Yelena starts making her way to your bedroom door, “I love you, but I am not staying for whatever talk is about to transpire.”
“Fair,” you follow her to the front door.
“Last thing, will you be calling her mommy because-"
You open the door and push her through it, “Goodbye, Yelena.”
Your dad walks into the frame, chuckling at the scene. He waves to your friend, “Goodbye Yelena.”
She waves back, “Bye Shawn, bye Y/n.”
He closes the door behind him. Your dad turns to you and opens his arms. As upset as you are with him, you can’t deny him the hug. You wrap your arms around him, and he squeezes you tightly.
“Believe it or not, I really missed you kid.”
“Enough to get a whole new family,” you shot back him.
“That’s fair, let’s talk in the back.”
You agree, but you don’t make it to the backyard before running into Wanda again.
“Honey you’re home early,” Wanda strides past you and kisses your father.
The sight is strange to you. You knew that your father had dated after your mother, but he never brought anyone home. You had never seen him be intimate with anyone, it felt weird. At least that’s what you think the feeling is.
“I am, I owe Y/n an explanation for some things . So I thought it was best to come home and straighten things out.”
Wanda seems to understand what he’s alluding to, “Alright, while the two of you talk how about I get dinner started.”
They kiss again, and this time you turn away.
“Sounds good, let’s go kid.”
You follow your dad through kitchen and to the backyard. He stops for a second in the kitchen to grab two beers, before continuing outside. The two of you sit on the patio chairs, facing out towards the yard.
He opens both the drinks and hands you one wordlessly. You hate beer, but you’re not turning down this moment with your dad.
“I was lonely for a long time when your mom left Y/n. I wanted to unpack those feelings, but there was one feeling that I felt more than loneliness and that was fear. Fear that I wouldn’t be able to take care of you and that someone would take you away. There was nearly 10 years that I pushed those feelings of loneliness down, to focus on you, on us. It was what I supposed to do and I don’t regret it. I know I wasn’t always there for you in the way you needed me to be, but just know I was always thinking about how I could be better for you.”
He stops to take a swig of his beer, “Eventually, once I thought that you were old enough, I started dating. Nothing really stuck until I met Wanda. It was a chance encounter at some coffee place, she’d just had finalized her divorce. I wasn’t sure about it, but I also just couldn’t let her go without giving it a shot. Low and behold a shot turned into 2 years.”
You take a large gulp of beer, “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I was scared. I didn’t know how you’d react. We don’t really talk about your feelings about your mom, I just didn’t want you to think- that I was trying to put someone in that spot for you."
“I understand that feeling, but I would’ve like to meet her before you know, you got married.”
“It was so just such a quick decision. That we were already married before I realized that I fucked up. There wasn’t a ceremony or anything,” he explains.
You drink some more, “But it’s been months dad. You know I thought Yelena was lying to me in the driveway when she was saying something about a wife and 2 kids.”
He looks into his lap, “The longer I waited, the harder it got. I felt like a kid who was going to get scolded, I didn’t feel like I had the right words. I still don’t think I do. ‘Hey sport, so I’ve been seeing someone for 2 years and I got married how’s your first week of college going’.”
You laugh, “I guess I can see where you’re coming from, but I don’t want to be left in the dark like this ever again.”
“Yes mam,” he salutes you. “So how was your first semester? Get into any trouble, join any clubs, get a girlfriend maybe?”
You stop him there, “Pump your brakes, I still have questions about… your marriage. Like where are the two kids?”
“They’re at their father’s house. They usually do two weeks there, two weeks here. I think they might be spending more time with him this summer. Billy and Tommy are great kids, I think you’d get along with them pretty well. They’re into games and stuff like you. You’ll meet them. ”
“I’m assuming they’re younger.”
“15.”
Your eyes go wide, “She has two 15-year-old kids?”
Your dad chuckles, “Yes, she does. Wanda is actually older than me.”
“Bullshit,” you say in disbelief.
“Swear to god, I’m serious. She’s a really cool person once you get to know her.”
You hum, “Well she’s already in the family, so I don’t really have a choice, do I Mr. Maximoff?”
He gets up from his seat, beer bottle empty, “Isn’t your generation supposed to be the progressive one?”
You follow his lead, downing the rest of your drink, “You’re the one giving it negative connotation.”
“Whatever kid, I'm going to change out of my work clothes. How about you see if Wanda needs any help in the kitchen?”
You take in a deep breath, “I’ll do my best.”
He places a hand on your shoulder, leading you back inside, “She’s a nice woman Y/n, she’s not going to bite your head off or anything.”
Once you’re back inside, your dad heads upstairs, while to go towards the kitchen.
“It smells really good in here,” you say entering the space.
“Thanks, I’m trying something new today. Your dad said you’re a bit of a picky eater, but I hope you’ll like it.”
“Between us, I’ve always just said that because dad only knows how to cook 3 things,” you joke, and find yourself smiling harder when you hear Wanda laugh.
“Let me guess, burger, steak, salmon?”
“You survived eating the salmon?”
She laughs even harder, covering her mouth, “There were a few bones, but it was an honest attempt.”
“Is there anything I can help you with?” You ask, but you can see that she’s about done with everything.
“Could just get the plates for me, I know they’re right by me, but I have to keep stirring or-”
“It’s no problem, Wanda.”
You cut her off politely. The plates are stashed right above the stove. You come up behind Wanda, who is stirring the food in the skillet. You are taller than her so reaching above her is no problem. The only thing that you are unsure about is standing so close behind her.
Your front is only centimeters away from touching her back. When you reach over her, you think you hear her curse to herself.
“Is everything alright?”
“The food just got me a little, all good.”
You grab the plates and sit them on the counter next to her.
“So Y/n I hear you’re an English major.”
You nod, “I am.”
“I was too back in my day.”
You can't help but shake your head, “You look like you could still be in college.”
You see her blush at your words turning off the stove. You don’t know why seeing her blush makes you feel smug, but it does.
“Oh stop it,” she looks away from you.
“I’m serious, Wanda. I would’ve never guessed you were a mother let alone to two teenagers,” you continue to compliment her.
“A lot of people are surprised when I tell them how old I am,” she admits. “They all say that I look good for my age.”
You catch her gaze, “They should just tell you that you look good. Age is irrelevant.”
“You’re quite the charmer Y/n. I don’t blame them, I’m nearly 50.”
Your eyes go wide, “Wanda, I don’t believe you.”
She laughs, “It’s true, I’m 45.”
“I’d believe you if you said 25,” you’re serious when you speak.
The compliment flusters her, “Could you help me take the plates to the table?”
You grab 2 of the 3 plates sitting them at the table. You would’ve thought that Wanda would’ve set her plate next to your dad, but instead she sits next to you.
“You can dig in when you’re ready, no need to let the food get cold waiting for your dad.”
You take her words to heart and begin eating. After the first bite you find it impossible to stop. It tastes as good as it smelt while cooking. You could cry at the home cooked meal. Ramen packets and fast food could not compare. You had been prepared for a burger that your dad made or to go out for dinner, but this was better than you could’ve expected.
“I take it, you like it,” amusement present in her voice as she watches you devour the food.
“I haven’t had a home cooked meal in a long time and if I’m bring honest they never tasted like this.”
“Do you cook at all?”
You nod, “You’re looking at the family chef. I didn’t want to always eat steak, burger, and spaghetti. “
“How could I forget about the spaghetti? He’ll literally eat it all week.”
“Now you see why I was surprised when I found out he was married.”
Your dad finally makes an appearance, “What’s wrong with my spaghetti?”
“Nothing its good spaghetti, but all week dad?
“Well if it’s good, then I don’t see the problem.”
The three of you sit and chat through dinner. It comes surprisingly easy as you find yourself enamored by Wanda. You hang on every word she says, there’s this twinkle in her eye when she speaks. Her expressions are right there on her sleeves.
You don’t miss the way she bites her lip while she’s thinking, or the small hint of an accent in certain things she says. It makes you wonder more about how your dad could ever manage a woman like this.
When everyone is done eating, you stand up and begin to collect the dishes.
“I’ve got it Y/n,” Wanda tries to take them from you, but you stop her.
“No, it’s alright, you cooked it’s only fair I do the dishes.”
She smiles, giving your father a pointed look, “Maybe someone else should take notes.”
He gives you a playful glare, “Home for a couple hours and already making me look bad.”
You start on the dishes, taking the moment to yourself to gather your thoughts. No matter how many subjects you tried to shift through, the one your mind kept falling back to was Wanda.
She was truly one of the most beautiful women you had ever seen in your life. She was a virtual stranger to you, so there was nothing wrong with finding her attractive. You’d only just met her, it would take some time to get used to seeing her as your dad’s wife.
“I think that one is clean.”
Wanda’s voice startles you a bit causing you to jump lightly. Heat fills your face as embarrassment sets in.
“You caught me lost in thought,” your nerves are still high as you speak.
“What’s got you so far away sweetheart?”
You make the mistake of looking into her eyes. The genuine curiosity behind them paired with a gentle worry conveyed by the small furrow in her brow. You’re gawking again, your focus returns to the dishes.
“It’s just been me and my dad for long time.”
“I understand that , I know that you’re just meeting me-"
You stop her, “You’re lovely, Wanda. I’m not- I don’t have concerns about your relationship with him. I just… I don't know where I fit into all of this. With me moving back home, I feel like a stranger.”
Wanda takes the dish out of your hands and sits it in the rack. If she cares about the moisture level of your hands, she doesn’t say anything. She takes them in her own and looks into your eyes.
“This is your home Y/n. You will never be a stranger in it. It’s a lot to get used to, especially when it’s sprung on you so quickly and I'm sorry for that. Consider it my goal to make you feel at home.”
You don’t know when your eyes dropped to her lips, but it was abundantly clear they had when she stopped speaking.
“Sweetheart?”
You blink a few times regaining your awareness, quickly pulling your hand from hers, “Sorry, long day. I think I’ll turn in for the night, but thank you Wanda… for the food and the talk.”
You rush upstairs and close yourself in your room. What you never noticed was the faint blush on Wanda’s cheeks. She had seen you focus in on her lips while speaking. Honestly, she was finding the way you were looking at her hard to ignore. There was such a wanting in them. She was trying to ignore it, while still getting to know you, but that task was beginning to seem difficult.
She decided to wipe up the kitchen area. Her thoughts wander to when she opened the door for you. The way your eyes traveled the length of her body, the way your mouth stayed agape when she spoke.
You didn’t look a lot like your father. Wanda noted that you were tall and sort of lanky like he was, and you had a lot of his mannerisms, but physically she assumed you looked like your mother. You had soft features, that might have clashed a little with your urban aesthetic.
You presented yourself much how your dad described you. A bit shy, but truly a good mannered, funny kid. Wanda expected a little more social ineptitude, but she was surprised with how chatty you ended up being.
She wondered if it had anything to do with the way you perceived her. Truth be told she felt sorry for you, your father should’ve told you about this a while ago. She had heard about you and pressed to meet you, but he always had some excuse to why you couldn’t meet.
“So, what do you think?”
“I wish I would’ve met her a little earlier but she seems like a good kid,” Wanda turns to face her husband.
The man frowns, “I’m sorry, seeing you both interact made me realize that I could’ve done this much sooner.”
“How do you think she’ll interact with the boys?”
He smiles, “Y/n is basically one of the boys. You’ll see that side of her eventually. She’ll be in that room for the foreseeable future, until Yelena or someone else drags her out.”
“I could take her out for a girl’s day,” Wanda suggests.
Shawn laughs at her, “I’ve never known her to be into any of that stuff, but if that’s something you want to do, let me know. I’d probably have to convince her to agree.”
Wanda shakes her head, “I think I can get her to go all on my own.”
“Alright, don’t say I didn’t warn you. I’ll see you upstairs.”
The man makes his way upstairs to the bed. Wanda on the other hand, stays finishing up some minor things in the kitchen, before heading up herself.
She heads straight for the bathroom, ready to get the smell of the kitchen off of her. She wasn’t paying much attention on her way, looking at her phone. That’s how she found herself running straight into you. She would’ve fell if it weren’t your strong grip on her hips.
She went to apologize, but the words died on her lips as she saw water droplets falling from your skin. Her hands pressed against your slightly damp pajama shirt, in order to stabilize herself.
The shirt was thin enough, for her to feel your abdomen through it. She found herself at a loss for words.
“Are you alright Wanda?”
She nods meekly, “Sorry sweetheart, I wasn’t paying attention to where I was going.”
“It’s no biggie, as long as you’re ok,” you help her fully upright, hands not leaving her side.
“All good, thanks to you,” Wanda struggles to meet your eyes.
You are about to squeeze her sides when you remember who this woman is. Your hands fall to your sides quickly. Nervous laughter build up in your throat, “I’ll see you tomorrow then?”
“Y/n I was wondering if you'd be interested in having a girl’s day with me, before my boys come. I think it’d be good to have some bonding time.”
“I um- I’ve never really had a girl’s day,” you scratch the back of your neck awkwardly.
“Well, it’ll be my treat?”
You nod, “Ok, like tomorrow or…”
“Tomorrow is perfect.”
You give a thumbs up and make your way to your room, while Wanda goes into the bathroom.
You plop straight into your bed, slapping your hand on to your face, “Really Y/n, a girl’s day. What were we thinking?”
You knew exactly what you were thinking. Alone time with Wanda, piqued your interest. The feeling of her in her hands felt like it was etched into your memory. The way she was looking at you made your heart pound in your chest.
As you lay in bed, your mind begins to paint vulgar images in your head. Ones that you had yet to experience due to your introverted lifestyle. The farthest you had gone with another girl was some lackluster dry humping.
That didn’t stop you from imagining your hands on Wanda’s body. The way she softly gasped when your hands stopped her from falling. The feeling of her fingers against your abdomen, blessed for the thing material of your shirt. The addictive color of her lips, and how they could move against yours.
You couldn’t sleep with her on your mind and the wetness pooling between your legs. You sit up in your bed, leaning back against the headboard. It’s only a moment of contemplation, before you stick your hand under the band of your pajama pants.
Your fingers are determined as they draw tight fast circles around your clit. You want to expedite the experience as much as possible. There couldn’t be anytime to dwell on who you were thinking about.
With your eyes closed you could see her taking her shirt off. Her skin soft and cool under your fingertips. A trail of goosebumps in your wake. You could see her craning her neck as you sucked on the exposed skin, marking her as your own. You could feel her hands tugging at your hair, moaning your name as you tasted her.
“Fuck, Wanda,” you came with a grunt. Your eyes still closed as your fingers stilled against the mess you made of yourself.
On the other side of your bedroom door, Wanda was standing there in shock. She had heard some sounds coming from your room after exiting the bathroom. When she realized what the sounds were, she thought she should leave. Yet the sound of her name being whispered on your tongue along with the sound of you playing with yourself, kept her in place.
She found herself worked up after her shower. Wishing that she would’ve cracked the door to see you, touching yourself with her in mind. Simultaneously scolding herself for having thoughts like this running through her head.
She married your father, she liked your father, he was a decent man. He was good to her and her boys. So what if he was always working, who cares that he hid their entire relationship from the most important person in his life, and does it even matter that he hasn’t ever really given her an orgasm. This was her new husband and she shouldn’t be thinking about his daughter in this way.
Maybe asking for a girl’s day, wasn’t a good idea. Being closer to you seemed like a dangerous game, lines that Wanda couldn’t allow herself to cross.
It was hard for her, knowing your young prying eyes were on her. From what she had heard, you already wanted her. The token of a youthful want and desire, it went right to her core.
When she finally made her way back to her room, she had decided that she needed some relief. She was going to seek it from your father, but the man already laid snoring. She shook him a couple of times in hopes to wake him up, but her attempts were met with swats of her hand and incoherent grunting.
Wanda huffed with irritation sliding into her side of the bed. She let herself get off to the thought of you that night unable to think herself guilty.
Your father was out of the house before Wanda or yourself had woken up in the morning. Wanda hated waking up to an empty bed, but it had become her new normal.
She didn't bother getting ready for the day yet. She simply stretched some, before brushing her teeth, and heading downstairs for breakfast. She was surprised to find you in the kitchen, cooking.
You hadn’t recognized her presence yet, too caught up in breakfast. Music played lowly through the kitchen and you hummed along. You thought it’d be a nice gesture to make breakfast since Wanda had cooked dinner last night.
The older woman watched you in somewhat of a trance. Your movements were a little clumsy, but it was clear that you had been doing it like this for a while. She could see herself coming up behind you and wrapping herself around you as you cooked for her.
Her muscles twitched at the thought. She took in a deep breath before she finally announced her presence, “Good morning.”
You turn away from the stove to smile at her, “Perfect timing, I'm almost done with breakfast.”
“You didn't have to do all of this, your dad’s not even here to enjoy it.”
You shrug your shoulders, “I figured he’d be at work anyway. Consider this a thank you for dinner."
You bring her a plate along with some coffee before getting your own.
“Y/n, this is amazing,” Wanda praises you.
You grow bashful, “It’s nothing really. So, what’s on the agenda for our girl’s day?”
Wanda ponders for a moment, “How about you tell me some things you like to do and we’ll go from there?”
You stumble a bit, “I uh- I don't really like to do much. Dad and I never really did anything more than like going to a park and sometimes fishing.”
“What about the mall? People your age are into shopping, right?”
You laugh, “I’ve only really been back to school shopping.”
Wanda shakes her head, “Today, I guess I’m going to introduce you to some of life’s little luxuries. I’m going to need you to trust me.”
You give her a small smile, “I trust you.”
You say it so earnestly that it nearly scares her.
“Good, so we’ll head out after we’re done eating and getting dressed.”
After cleaning up and getting dressed you regrouped in the living room. You tried your best to not let your eyes linger over Wanda’s attire. She wore a simple yellow sundress, it wasn’t anything extravagant but it looked good on her. It almost made you want to change out of your t-shirt and jeans, feeling a little underdressed.
“Ready?”
You answer her, and soon you’re in the passenger seat of her car with no idea where you’re going. You both make pleasant small talk, not really feeling the need to fill the silence. The only thing you make conscious effort to do is not stare at her cleavage in the dress.
It hard to erase the images that you pictured last night, but for your own sake you try.
The first place Wanda takes you is a nail shop. You had been before, but it had honestly been years. She opted for a manicure and pedicure, while you just got a manicure. You were usually a clear coat type of girl but today you decided to get black paint.
After your nails, Wanda decides to take you to the mall.
“Ok, whatever you want in here, is on me today,” she says as you enter the shopping center.
Your eyes go wide, “Wanda, I couldn't ask you for that.”
“Good thing you didn't ask sweetheart,” she responds and you feel yourself melt a little.
“I’m not even good at shopping, I don't really know what looks good on me,” you admit to the woman.
She pauses her steps to give you a once over. Her eyes dragging slowly across your body, as if she was personally undressing you then and there.
“Honey, you should've never told me that. Now, I’m afraid you're going to have to indulge me through these stores.”
“What does that mean?”
Wanda’s tone is playful, “Don’t worry your little head about it sweetheart, I’m going to help you find some clothes.”
It's not a second later that she’s grabbing your wrist and pulling you into a clothing store. She starts grabbing clothes and holding them up to your body, trying to see what looks good. She had a pile of clothes in her arms that she was shoving into your hands.
“Try these on,” she pushes you to the dressing rooms.
A lot of the stuff she had was stuff you’d never grab for yourself, but it did all look good on you. There were a few pieces, particularly crop tops, that you weren’t too sure about.
“I think I look weird,” you come out in the crop top.
You have something of a jacket over it. You look down at your exposed stomach before looking up at Wanda. There’s something in the way she’s looking at you.
“It looks good,” her tongue swipes across her bottom lip. “But if you’re uncomfortable then you don’t have to get it.”
“Do you really think it looks ok?”
She stands from her spot and makes her way over to you. Her hands fiddle with the end of the shirt. She adjust the waistband of your jeans. With a few quick tugs, she has you seeing the outfit in a different way.
“I do.”
You nod, “Ok, I see it.”
“You should wear it out,” she suggests and you comply.
You thought it’d be over after the one store but Wanda takes you into 3 more clothing store, racking up a whole new wardrobe. At the end you practically had to beg her not to spend any more money.
“Do you want to go in there, your dad mentioned you’re a big gamer?”
She nods her head to the video game store that you admittedly had been eyeing since the last store you went in.
You shake your head, “You’ve already spent so much and games are like $70 now.”
“ So I’m going to take that as a yes,” she starts walking ahead into the store.
You groan, but follow her in anyway, “Wanda, can I ask what you do for work?”
She laughs, “Why, so you can feel a little better about me spending the money?”
“Maybe,” you say browsing through a few games.
“Well, I used to work in real estate and now I do editing for major publications books, magazines, things like that.”
“That seems like a big jump,” you point out.
She nods, “It is, but I’m much happier editing than I was selling houses. The real estate did give me a good standing to be able to chase and finance my dreams. It’s honestly given me more money than I know what to do with. So I usually just don’t do anything with it.”
“Does my dad know?”
Wanda adverts her eyes, “No, he doesn’t. Your dad really enjoys being a provider. He wants to be the breadwinner and bring home the bacon. He doesn’t even let me pay for dinner. I pay for some of the bills at home and he doesn’t even want me to do that. I’ve been trying to coerce him into letting me do more but-”
“He’s a stubborn guy,” you finish her thoughts. “When I was in high school, I got a job at the movie theater to help out with some things around the house and for college. Dad was really…insecure about letting me help. He wanted to prove he could do it on his own.”
Her eyes soften, “Oh wow."
“Yeah, I think it has something to do with my mom walking out on us, but I don’t know. We never really talked about it,” you say picking up a game.
Wanda knew this topic to be sensitive to your dad. He had mentioned it, but never went into detail. When Wanda tried to press for information, he'd either shut down or get irritated, she wonders if he was the same with you.
“No pressure, but if you ever want to talk about it or vent, I’m here for you.” She takes the game from your hands, “I know it’s not your dad’s favorite topic and I know I don’t have the answers you’re probably looking for, but I don’t mind listening to you.”
You look at her for a long moment. Your eyes are watering against your will. You blink back the tears and nod silently. You never really talked about your mom, truth be told you never unpacked those feelings yourself.
“I- I’ve never really talked about it with anyone. I don’t know how I feel about it, I mean I was only 5.”
Wanda thinks of her words carefully, “Do you remember her?”
You laugh lightly, still pretending to browse the games, “Of course I do, she was my mom. She brushed my hair, tucked me in, put band aids on my scrapes and cuts, and she never got mad when I got grass stains on my clothes.”
Wanda keeps quiet as she senses you have more to say.
“She was a stay-at-home mom, so I spent most of my time with her. I don’t- I wish I remembered what she looked like more. I look like her, I know I do, but… I don’t know it’s not enough.”
Wanda rests her hand on your back. Rubbing small circles bringing you more comfort than you thought you needed. You place your hand in her other hand, sighing deeply.
“I wish I knew why she left. Dad never told me, I just know that one day I woke up and she wasn’t there. He told me she wasn’t coming back. I never wanted to ask him, he was already doing so much to prove that he could be enough. I’m grateful for that, for him… but in the back of my mind I can’t help but wonder, you know.”
A teardrop falling onto your cheek, pulls you quickly out of the moment. You wipe your eyes with your sleeve and take a step back from Wanda.
“Y/n-"
“I’ve heard really cool things about that game. I’ve been wanting it for a few months now,” you pivot topics, clearing your throat.
“Then it’s yours sweetheart.”
You were grateful that she just let it go.
After that you both decide to call it a day and head back home. You bring all of your new clothes to your room and begin to put them away. You decide to take a quick shower and change into more comfortable clothes before heading down to the living room. Usually you’d keep to yourself in your room, but you were secretly hoping Wanda would join you.
“What’re you watching?”
“Back to the Future, it’s one of my favorites,” you make room for her on the couch next to you.
She takes a seat, “Mine too.”
You perk up, “Really?”
She nods, “Me and my brother used to watch it all the time when we were younger.”
The two of you sit in silence as you watch the movie. Unbeknownst to either of, the space between you grows slimmer by the minute. You take a peek at the woman to find her eyes fluttering, before they finally close. She had already nearly been laying on the couch. Her feet are up, bent to lay over each other. She had been holding up her head in her hand. Now as she fell unconscious her head had drops into your lap.
You feel your heart rate pick up. The movie suddenly becomes uninteresting. You don’t want to move, unwilling to wake the woman. She looks peaceful in her sleep. You notice how she twitches lightly and though you shouldn’t your fingers begin to comb through her hair. She hums in your lap, but you don’t still. Your fingers work gingerly to bring her comfort.
She stops twitching and you refocus on the movie with your hand still in her hair. Eventually you find yourself dozing off as well.
“Well, well, well looks like girl’s day was a success,” it’s your father’s voice that wakes both you and Wanda.
The red head becomes alert first, she notes her position in your lap and your hand in her hair and immediately bolts up right. You’re slower to come to stretching widely before open your eyes.
“Yeah, it was pretty fun,” you say while yawning.
“I see some nail polish Y/n, that’s new.”
You shrug, “It’s not the first time.”
“I know but it’s been a while, having another girl around the house is nice, isn’t it?”
You let out a huff of irritation, completely aware of what he was insinuating. For the most part your dad was in support of your sexuality. However, there were some jokes he just couldn’t let go of. The “gay” thing was fine with him, but he still believed that you could stand to be more ladylike. Which was completely rich coming from the man that raised you on fishing trips, Miller Lite, and WWE.
“So, ladies what’s for dinner?”
Wanda goes to answer but you speak over her, “Honestly dad, I was hoping for some of your burgers tonight.”
Your father beams with excitement, “Will do kiddo, just let me shower first and I’ll be in the kitchen.”
You both watch as he wanders up the stairs.
“You didn’t want to cook, did you?”
“No, not really. Thank you for the save and for letting me nap on you,” she adverts her gaze as she speaks to you.
“I’m happy to help in any way I can,” you say to her, not noticing the undertone of your statement.
Her eyes become dark as she looks at you. The lust filled look in her eyes has you reeling at what you said. There’s no point in taking it back now. You swallow thickly under her gaze, but don't make any motion to move away from her. Instead, you find yourself compelled to lean in closer.
Wanda let’s you get within a few inches of her face, before breathlessly letting your name fall from her lips, “Y/n.”
You close your eyes, “You can’t just say my name like that, Wanda.”
“You can’t make statements like the one you made,” she fires back.
Both of you give leeway to how you’re actual feeling. You go to move closer to her, but her hand on your shoulder keeps you away. It honestly breaks you from whatever pulled you in, in the first place
The tips of your ears heat up as you stand abruptly, “Sorry, I- I’ll see you at dinner.”
Much like when you were a teenager you lock yourself in your room. Wanda picks up a pillow from the couch putting it over her head, pretending to scream into it.
You send a quick text to Yelena. Something along the lines of saying you should hang out tomorrow. She is in disbelief at the fact that you want to do something out of the house, but is equally as excited. She says she’s taking advantage of this and keeping you out all day.
You needed to get out of the house. You stayed in it so much because you deemed it as a safe space. However, with Wanda around… you didn’t know if you could truly call it safe. It had only taken two days for you to almost kiss her.
There wasn’t a bone in your body that was used to moving this quickly. It had taken you years to develop your first crush and even longer before you acted on any such feeling. Yet with Wanda everything felt different. You weren’t a believer in love at first sight, you wouldn’t call what you were feeling love. This attraction… for lack of a better term just felt intense.
It was almost as if every interaction had a double meaning to it. It was something that the other woman was clearly also aware of. Neither of you should be acting on it and technically you hadn’t done anything. The problem was that you wanted to, and you didn’t see those feelings going away anytime soon. It was only the second day and you had the rest of your life to go.
One day out with Yelena became a couple days of the week out with her. You even had started texting your former roommate to see if she’d be down to hangout as well. So save for the first two days, you spent every day out and about.
You had similar plans for the next week too, but they came to a halt quickly when your dad mentioned Wanda’s kids coming back from their dad’s. He made it clear that he wanted you to be there to meet them so your plans of avoiding home, became a little more complicated.
So once again you were stuck in your room. The doorbell ringing is the only reason you had left the space. You knew that your dad was out and Wanda was working in her office at the time, so you were the only option.
It rang one more time, before you got to it. When you open the door, you are met by two teenage boys and an older looking man. You stare at them and they stare back at you.
“Is Wanda in? I would like to have a talk with her,” the man in the middle speaks.
“She’s working right now.”
He rolls his eyes, “And who are you exactly?”
Something about his tone makes you jaw twitch, “I’m Y/n, Shawn’s kid.”
“Right, the one he was hiding away.”
“Dad-”
Dealing with stuck up assholes was unfortunately nothing new to you, “Billy, Tommy you guys can head on in.”
They look from their father to you before quickly making the decision to go inside. The man trues to go in behind but you block his entry.
“They live here, you don’t. I suggest you try talking to Wanda again sometime next week…” you smile at him.
“Jarvis,” he says through gritted teeth.
“Goodbye Jarvis,” you slam the door in his face.
You clap your hands together as you turn around. You slightly startle at the presence of the teen boys behind you. There’s an awkward silence as you stare at each other.
“So, your mom said you guys are gamers?”
That’s all it took for the three of you to hunker down in the living room and start gaming. From Mario Kart to Mario Party to Mortal Kombat, the three of you rotted the day away. You end up ordering some pizza and junk food, which is essential for all gaming marathons.
“I love your style by the way,” Billy says grabbing a slice of pizza.
You raise an eyebrow at him, “You might as well just ask me if I'm gay.”
Tommy laughs at this, which earns him a slap in the arm from Billy.
“Well… are you?”
“Yep.”
“Girlfriend?” Tommy asks.
“Nope, how about you two?”
Billy smiles, “I have a boyfriend.”
He goes on telling you some details. You genuinely feel happy for the boy. To be young, out, and dating is really cool.
“That’s really cool Billy.”
“Thanks, I wish my dad thought so too.”
Tommy jumps in the conversation, “Dad is fucking stupid, what does he know about any kind of relationship.”
You agree with Tommy, “I mean he did fumble your mom.”
They both laugh, but Billy brings the conversation back, “I just wish he was more accepting.”
“He’s either going to come around because he loves you or keep showing you who he really is. Either way you still have your mom, your bother, your boyfriend, and even me to rely on. So just cause your dad isn’t accepting doesn't mean you aren’t accepted,” you tell him sincerely.
“He wanted to talk to mom about Billy’s boyfriend. He thinks it’s… inappropriate,” Tommy spills.
“Well I don't think it's any of his business, and even if he did tell your mom she’d have your back,” you say like it’s obvious.
“If who told me what?”
Wanda comes out from her office and her kids greet her. She’s surprised to see you downstairs with them, but doesn’t comment on it.
“Dad doesn't approve of Billy’s boyfriend,” Tommy says again earning an agitated look from his brother.
“Yeah, he was going to talk to you, but Y/n kicked him out,” Billy says awkwardly.
You keep your focus on the game, “I didn’t kick him out… I slammed the door in his face.”
“Y/n!”
“It was well deserved. He asked who I was, I told him. Then the asshole has the audacity to refer to me as ‘the one he was hiding' when trying to get into my house. I think the fuck not.”
Wanda walks in front of your TV blocking the game. You pause it and look up at her to find an unexpected fury in her eyes.
“What did he say to you?”
You meet her eyes, urging her to calm down, “I handled it.”
She takes the hint, moving out of your way, “I’ll make sure it doesn’t happen again.”
She then focuses on talking with her children, recapping the week that they had. Billy also goes into some less than nice details of what his father had to say about his boyfriend.
Wanda’s hand presses against her brow line hearing the details. She’s clearly irritated with the twin’s father.
“I’ll talk to him, and you tell me if he says anything else. I have no issue coming to get you guys if he makes you uncomfortable,” Wanda says hugging the boys.
You take this moment between the family to go upstairs. You breath in the minute to yourself. The twins were nice, and it was cool to have people in the house to game with. They’d seem like people who’d you befriend at their age.
“Thanks for hanging out with my kids and for the stuff with their dad,” Wanda stands in your doorway.
You give her a small nod, “Billy and Tommy are cool. Their dad… less cool. So it was my pleasure to slam the door in his face.”
Wanda chuckles, “Jarvis is an asshole.”
You join in on her laughter, “Yeah, I definitely can’t see you with that guy.”
“I was young and naïve. If I knew then what I know now, I wouldn’t have stayed for so long.”
“How young?”
Wanda sighs, “18. He was older, more appealing back then.”
You can’t hide your reaction, “Oh.”
“Yeah, but that asshole gave me my kids. So I guess he was good for something.”
You disagree with her, “Just cause a guy is good for something, doesn’t mean he’s good for you.”
“Where were you when I was in my prime, Y/n?” her words have a double meaning.
You look at her, more serious than a heart attack, “I’m right here, and your prime is far from over.”
She shudders under your look, “Y/n.”
“I wish you could feel how hard it is for me to do the right thing, Wanda. I hate leaving the house, but I know if I was here all day with just you, I’d lose it.”
You’re lying on your back in bed. Your eyes cut from Wanda to the ceiling.
“Y/n, I’m married to your father.”
“He doesn’t even fuck you,” you say with a bored tone.
“Y/n!”
You don’t return her reaction, “I’ve been waiting to see if I’d have to plug my ears, or move downstairs so I didn’t have to hear. But it hasn’t happened yet. Probably too tired from work.”
“Y/n my kids are downstairs.”
Your head falls into your hands, “I’m sorry. I-I’m going to head out for a bit.”
You get up and go for your door. Wanda doesn’t move out of your way. She stands still in your doorframe.
“Where are you going?”
“I don't know, Lena’s if she’s home.”
Wanda frowns hearing this, “You don’t have to-”
You lock eyes with her’s, “I do.”
Wanda’s hand caresses your cheek. You lean into her touch. You hear her take an unsteady breath.
“You make this so hard for me.”
She slowly removes her hand, only to replace it with her lips. It’s enough to ignite a fire in your body. They linger, much longer than they should.
“Be safe,” she fixes your clothes a little, before finally clearing your path.
“Wanda-"
“I’ll see you back for dinner,” she says walking away from you.
When you think she can't see you anymore, you touch your cheek. The spot where her lips had been. You slip out of the house and make your way to Yelena’s.
You knock on the door and wait for her to answer. When she does, you don't let her say anything. You drag her upstairs to her room. You lock her door, before you start pacing in her room. She sits on her bed watching you.
“So… are you going to tell me what this is about?”
“I need this to be a judgement free zone.”
Yelena tilts her head, “Then why come here?”
“Yelena, I’m serious.”
She raises her hands in surrender at your snappy tone, “Fine, what is it?”
“I’m attracted to Wanda, and I think��� she’s attracted to me.”
Yelena laughs as you stare at her. The laughter goes on for minutes before she realizes that you aren't laughing.
“Y/n, are you being serious?”
You close your eyes, “Lena there’s this tension. I just thought it was in my head. I almost kissed her, I don’t know what’s going on. I’ve been going out, and stuff just to stay away from her. She’s driving me insane.”
“You tried to kiss her!”
“She gave me this kiss on the cheek. She said I was making it hard for her. Yelena I’ve never felt like this for anyone,” you tell your best friend.
“Dude you’re fucked,” is all that she says.
“I know.”
“She’s your dad’s wife.”
“I know.”
“She has 2 kids.”
“I know.”
“Did I say she’s your dad’s wife already?”
You groan joining her on the bed, “I- I don’t know if I care about it. I mean I do, but he doesn’t even treat her that good. It could be worse, but it’s not great.”
“And you think you can do better?”
“I’d worship her.”
Yelena shakes her head, “I can’t believe you right now. You’re trying to get with your dad’s wife, she’s like almost 30 years older than you.”
“Can you blame me, you’ve seen her? It’s not my fault. If I would’ve met her before, maybe it would be different. It’s just like I come home and there’s this undeniably attractive woman in my house. She doesn’t feel like my dad’s wife to me."
Yelena nods along, “That’s fair, but Y/n this is insane.”
“I don’t know what to do.”
“Let’s go to a club.”
Your eyes widen, “A club?”
“Lots of attractive people who are closer to your age and eligible,” she reasons with you.
“I’m not even supposed to be out right now. My dad says I have to be home to get acclimated with Wanda’s kids. They leave in a week.”
She claps her hands together, “Alright then, next week we’re going clubbing.”
You get a text from Wanda saying your father is on the way home. You know it’s her way of saying you need to be back soon.
“What should I do in the mean time?”
Yelena searches for an answer before landing on, “Act like she’s your mom.”
You gag at the thought, “Ew.”
Yelena reacts gleefully, “Exactly.”
You pause before exiting, “Technically… she is a milf though.”
“Y/n L/n get a fucking grip,” Yelena says with amusement.
“I’m trying, but she won’t let me,” you whine.
“You having a thing for older women makes so much sense. No wonder you had a crush on Natasha.”
You send her a playful glare, “We do not talk about the dark ages.”
“It’s alright, I forgive you. I don’t know if your dad will be as forgiving as I am.”
You shrug, “I’ll test it out and let you know.”
She leads you to her front door, “Think about the club. Focus on it, breathe it in. Dream about it. Do not think about fucking your step mom.”
“Too late for that,” you shrug again.
“Just get out already, I’m running low on things to say back.”
“Bye Lena,” you say as she basically pushes you out of her door.
You make it back just before your dad gets there. It’s interesting seeing him interact with Billy and Tommy. It’s clear to you that he favors Tommy a little more. It’s just in the way he speaks. It bothers you a bit and you make sure to include Billy any time that you can in conversation.
You can feel Wanda’s eyes on you throughout the dinner, but you keep your attention with the boys and your dad.
“So I have a bit of an announcement to make,” your father says, gathering everyone’s attention. “I have an opportunity to get a promotion at work.”
“That’s great honey, we’re so proud of you,” Wanda gives him a quick kiss.
You try your best to hold back any malice with a fake smile on your face.
“Well, the thing is I’d need to go out of town for a bit to secure the position,” he says and you feel Wanda’s mood shift.
“For how long dad?” you ask, taking a sip of your drink.
He winces, “At least a month, maybe more.” He begins to pile on in an effort to make it seem less drastic. “It’s really a once in a lifetime opportunity, I've been working there for so long it feels overdue, but with this money our lives could change dramatically. We could move, Y/n you could go back to dorming, it would be-”
“You already accepted it didn't you?”
Wanda’s tone is guarded as she speaks. It's clear that she's unhappy and you don't blame her.
You sigh pushing yourself away from the table, “Congratulations dad, I’m going to head up to my room now.”
“Wait.” Wanda’s voice stops you in your tracks. “How do you feel about this Y/n?”
“I uh-”
“Don’t drag my kid into this.”
Wanda starts gesturing with her hands, “I’m not, she’s bound to have an opinion. She lives here, she’s your daughter, and she came back home because of you. Now you’re bailing.”
“It’s not a big deal. I’m used to him being busy,” you try to mediate.
Your dad throws his hands up, “What is that supposed to mean?”
You give him your honest opinion, “It means you’re busy. You were late to my graduation because of work. You missed my award ceremonies. There wasn’t any point in me signing up for extracurriculars because you’d never take me or show up anyway. It’s nothing personal dad, it’s just the truth.”
“I was providing for you,” he throws it back in your face.
Your shoulders drop, “I know and I’m grateful, but-” you stop yourself. Instead you just head for your room. You hear him call after you, but you don’t respond.
It’s not soon after that you hear footsteps coming up the stairs. There’s a soft knock on your door. You don’t say anything as Billy and Tommy slip into your room.
“They’re still going at it,” Tommy announces.
“Do they… do this a lot?” You ask the boys.
Billy answers, “When any sort of quality time is involved.”
You scoff, “Classic.”
Tommy places a hand on your shoulder, “We get it you know.”
“Sometimes you just wish they were there for you,” Billy finishes the sentence.
You feel yourself breaking down but refuse to let the tears fall. Tommy pulls you into a hug and Billy joins in soon after. You center yourself in their embrace. It’s not a comfort that you’re used to experiencing, you appreciate it immensely.
At some point during this moment the voices downstairs escalate to yelling. It quickly grabs your attention and has you realizing that you are the only other adult present in this moment. It feels like your responsibility to try to shield them from this, even if they are on the older side of things. Teenagers are still kids. Hell you still feel like a kid in your early twenties.
You place a hand on Billy’s head and the other on Tommy’s, “Thanks kids. I’m going to go handle downstairs, you stay up here.”
Tommy interjects, “I think-”
You stop him, “I’ve got it, trust me. They’re going to get noise complaint if things keep going.”
You steel yourself as you go downstairs to find Wanda and your father in the middle of a heated argument. They’re both standing, yelling in each other’s faces.
“SO WHAT SHAWN YOU LEAVE FOR OVER A MONTH AND DON’T EVEN THINK TO RUN IT BY ME FIRST?”
“RUN IT BY YOU FOR WHAT WANDA? YOU AREN’T MY MOTHER.”
“I AM YOUR WIFE, OR HAVE YOU FORGOTTEN THAT? TOO BUSY WORKING TO EVEN ACKNOWLEDGE ME.”
“WHEN DID YOU BECOME SUCH A NEEDY BI-“
“ENOUGH,” you cut your father off in the middle of his sentence. The couple looks at you, and you can feel the anger simmering in their gazes. “It’s late, you’re going to get the police called with all of your arguing.”
“Well if-”
“Stop. The conversation is going nowhere because you aren’t having a conversation, you’re just screaming at each other,” you tell them.
“Y/n, you should stay out of this,” your father glare at you.
“I would love to, only we can all hear you upstairs. You either need to table this conversation for another time or go somewhere else to talk. Neither of you should be acting like this in front of your kids. I don’t care who started it, if you both plan on staying here tonight it’s over right now.”
Wanda is the one to take in a deep breath. She looks between you and your father. There’s something behind her eyes but you’re focused on the task at hand.
“You’re sleeping on the couch tonight,” she walks away from the table, past you, and disappears up the stairs.
You muster up all the disappointment you possibly can as you take in your father’s appearance, “She has a right to be upset with you. It seems like you keep hiding these really important, life altering things from her. You have to be more upfront, more honest with her.”
“How was I supposed to know she’d react this way?”
You level with him, “You had to have expected something like this, it’s why you didn't tell her in the first place.”
“Maybe I did, I just… I really want this,” he says slumping down on the couch.
“Wanda doesn’t seem like the unsupportive type. It’s all in your delivery. You need to apologize, before you leave. When are you leaving?”
“In 3 days.”
You pinch the bridge of your nose, “Christ dad.”
“I know, I know. I’ll take her out tomorrow and we'll talk it out there.”
You nod, turning to go back to your room.
“Kid wait.” You pause at his call. “What were you going to say back there, before you went to your room?”
It takes you a moment to respond, “Sometimes I just wanted someone to be there for me. My dad, my mom, just someone. You were always busy with work and I was always alone.”
You don’t give him a chance to say anything else as you go up the stairs. His eyes follow you until you disappear. He sighs, leaning back into the couch, feeling like he could scream. He was failing, and he had 3 days to fix it.
When go back upstairs the boys are passed out on your bed. You think about waking them up, but decide against it. You settle on going into their room. It’s not until you shut the door behind you, that you notice the red head sitting on one of the beds in the room.
You take a seat on the bed that she’s not sitting on. The silence is heavy as you stare at each other. You can see the emotions running through her eyes. The anger, the frustration, and the lust. Your heart beat is steady as you look back at her.
“Do you think I’m in the wrong?” her voice is small when she asks.
“No, I just don’t think you know what kind of guy you married. He’s never going to be around enough and he’s never going to pick you over work. I’m not trying to be an asshole, it’s just the truth,” you speak bluntly.
“If you-" Wanda stops her sentence in its tracks.
“Honestly if I were him, I’d turn it down. I wouldn’t want to leave you for a month, but he's not me.”
“No, he isn’t,” she breathes out.
There’s another silence. Then it happens, so suddenly that you nearly freeze. Wanda’s lips are on yours. Her hands are planted in your hair and yours rest on the dips of her hips. Your back lays flat against the mattress.
Your tongue slips into her mouth causing you both to moan. Her hips roll on your lap and you grunt at the sensation. Your lips leave her mouth only to kiss down the side of her neck. As much as you want to leave a hickey you don’t. It’s not until your tongue runs across the top of her breast that she partial breaks from the trance.
“Y/n,” it’s a whine from her lips. The sound is entirely to intoxicating.
You begin to guide her hips against your thigh. Her sundress not leaving much fabric between her cunt and your sweats.
“Y/n we shouldn’t,” her hips follow your movements though her words tell you different.
“Just let me make you cum, please. Please Wanda, get off on my thigh,” your words are low as you beg her.
“Fuck,” Wanda watches the way your eyes don’t move from where she grinds on your thigh.
She lifts the sundress slightly so you can have a better view.
“Oh god,” you groan at the sight of the dampness of her panties. It turns you on even more.
Wanda finds herself grinding down harder, chasing her orgasm. You hold her firmly, helping create more friction. You find yourself getting off on the image before you.
“Fuck, use me. I know he can’t do it, so let me be useful. Fucking use my thigh. You’re so hot, shit I wish I could have you like this every night. I’m so desperate for you. I’m going to cum just from having you on me, fuck mommy.”
Wanda’s body completely falls into your arms. She shakes as she cums, leaving a mess on your sweatpants. She’s trying and failing to catch her breath as you hold her upright. Her head lolls into your shoulder.
“Did you really cum?” she says lips brushing against your ear.
You nod dumbly.
She moans again, “That’s so fucking hot.” She places a kiss right below your ear. “And what did you call me?”
Your chest heaves as you breathe out a response, “Mommy.”
She purrs in your ear before pulling away some. She grabs a fistful of your shirt pulling you into a searing kiss.
“We’re doing this again. Do you understand sweetheart?”
“Yes.”
“Yes what?”
“Yes mommy.”
She kisses your head one last time before getting off of your lap. You don’t miss the way her legs shutter as she gets up. You whine at the loss of contact.
“Don’t worry detka, we’ve got a little time to ourselves coming up. Mommy will let you go as far as you can handle, and maybe a little more than that.”
Next part
#lowkeyerror#wanda maximoff#wanda maximoff x reader#wanda maximoff imagines#billy and tommy#yelena belova
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frontman x reader whos a player but not because of debt but because she was investigating with gi-hun and ju-hon and got in the limousine and then in-ho falls in love with her and gets her out of the game with him like at the end of the season
can u also like not write it like a hate love relationship? like readers conflicted but still likes in-ho
Keeping you safe
Hwang In-ho x reader
hiii, pleasure writing your request! hope it’s the way you imagined :)
Word count: 3,3k
Warnings: violence, murder,…
Requests are open! i would also like to write something about Jun-ho or the salesman, so hmu
When you jumped into the limousine after Gi-hun you didn’t consider its consequences. Jun-ho trusted you to keep your eyes on Gi-hun at all costs and you were going to keep your word, even when it meant making yourself vulnerable.
The gas was sweet on your tongue and Gi-hun already slumped down on the plush leather of the limo seats. But you were wide awake, somehow defying sleep’s influence, shaking, still processing what the deep voice implied and Gi-hun demanded. “Put me in the game. But leave her out of it.”
Those words were followed by a dry laugh. You knew that meant there was no way out of it now. You started whispering into the intercom to Jun-ho, saying how sorry you were. His panicked voice was cut off by you turning off the device while you prepared yourself for the Frontman’s reaction, closing your eyes and taking shallow breaths.
“No. Those are my games and my rules. Might make them more interesting, don’t you agree, player 456?”
Then the gas started rising up from the floor. Gi-hun grabbed your hand, rumbling about how sorry he was. You smiled wearily, pressing his hand. “It’s okay, Gi-hun.” You both knew it wasn’t. It was as far from ‘okay’ as possible.
His fingers went limp and you resigned, waiting for the inevitable. With muted senses you watched the tinted protection shield go down. Behind it was the man in the mask himself, looking at you over his shoulder. Just when his gloved hand hovered over his mask, shrugging it off, you were engulfed in darkness.
***
After the first game, you thought that nothing could surprise you anymore. As much as Gi-hun tried to keep you from all the bloodshed, even he couldn’t cover your eyes and ears every time there was a gunshot. Still pale and shaken, digging dirt and blood from beneath your nails, you sat on your bed with the provided food in your lap, watching your surroundings. At least Gi-hun could be happy he found here his long lost friend, with whom he was now talking. You still didn’t speak to anyone else. You were scared that if you did, they would be dead by tomorrow.
You barely noticed there was any commotion until the sudden silence peaked your interest. There was a skirmish between three guys, two of them working together, which made the outcome of the fight quite obvious. There was another player stalking towards the group, trying to break up the fight.
“I said save the lecture for your own damn kids.” one of the guys shouted at him. That’s when you noticed the player’s still frame, like a cat before launching at its prey. And you were right; within a blink of an eye, he put both of the guys on their backs, not even breaking a sweat. You looked closer at him, reading the number 001 on his back. Even from afar you could see how deadly calm he was while choking one of them. After a moment the rage left his body and he released his grip. You didn’t expect the applause that followed his actions. You exchanged a look with Gi-hun. Were you the only one who sensed something foreboding?
You turned your attention back to the food in your lap and decided that even though you weren’t hungry, you desperately needed the energy. But in your mind, all you could think about was the player 001. Was he a police detective like Jun-ho or a former marine like Jung-bae or Dae-ho? Or something else entirely?
It took you a while to get out of your head and notice that his bed was right next to yours. With a sigh, player 001 sat down, grabbing his unfinished food. Just then he noticed your searching look and gave you a tentative smile.
“Hello, sir,” you began, looking down at your hands. A sudden wave of nervousness came over you. “I’m Y/N. Do you mind telling me your name?”
“No bother, Y/N,” he replied and you stared at his lips, at how perfectly they formed your name. “I’m Young-il. Nice to meet you.”
“You too,” you grinned at him in response, holding out your hand that he tentatively shook.
“Nice moves there,” you pointed your chin to the middle of the dormitory where the fight took place. “You could teach me if you had time, I’m terrible in combat.” A lie. Jun-ho himself taught you how to hold yourself and how to hold a gun. You were just trying to find out who Young-il was.
“If we have time, yes.” he nodded absentmindedly, scooping up a mouthful of rice.
“Do you mind me asking? I was just wondering if you have any children.” you said carefully.
“No, I don't.” Young-il replied, suddenly his gaze sharp.
“Well, I just thought that, based on your reaction to what that other player told you-“ you searched for the answer in his closely guarded expression. “You lost your child, didn’t you?”
Young-il didn’t say anything to that, his cutlery going limp in his hand.
“I just- I’d know that look anywhere. I know it’s not something to bond over,” you gave a startled laugh, fidgeting under his everlasting gaze, “but if you’d like to talk about it-“
“Thank you.” He reached out and squeezed your hand. His touch was calloused and warm. “I mean it.”
You smiled softly, squeezing his fingers in response. “I know.”
Preparing yourself for lights out, you couldn’t ignore his lingering gaze following your movements. Thankfully Gi-hun approached you and sat next to you on the bed, guilt visible in his expression.
“I’m so sorry, Y/N. I never wanted to drag you into this. And I’ll do everything in my power to keep you safe-“
“Don’t worry about that, sir. I can take care of myself. Anyways, I was only following Jun-ho’s orders. It had nothing to do with you.”
Unconvinced, Gi-hun sighed and moved to his own bed, not having the energy at the moment to argue with you. You finally lay down, moving the thin blanket over your body, curling up on your side.
“I overheard you talking about Jun-ho, and I couldn’t help but notice how familiar that name sounds to me,” Young-il broke the silence, looking at you with curiosity in his eyes.
“Well, he used to work as a police detective so that’s why you might know him.”
“Oh, yes, that might be possible,” Young-il gave you a restrained smile. “And he is to you-?”
“A friend. I used to work as a secretary in his department, that’s all.” you smiled back.
“Oh, sorry to pry.” he looked at his hands.
“Not at all.” He looked into your eyes and your eyes crinkled with another smile. Only when he looked away did you turn around in your bed. A few minutes later you heard Gi-hun and Young-il talking and even though you didn’t want to, it was impossible to not overhear. Young-il was explaining the story of why he’s in the games and why he chose to continue playing - how his pregnant wife was gravely ill and he needed the money due to her medical bills. Somehow, this answer shocked you, even though you shouldn't have been thrown off by it. Of course he was married.
Only after the whole dormitory fell silent did you finally fall into a fitful sleep.
***
“Thank you, Young-il.” you whispered to him, gratefully touching his shoulder. Young-il turned his gaze your way and the corners of his eyes crinkled under the influence of a smile. Only his supportive words during the six legged pentathlon could calm you down, which resulted in you successfully completing your mini game. The memory flashed through your mind - tears welling in your eyes, hands shaking as you reached again and again for the gong-gi pebbles. You could sense your teammates’ growing unease but that even worsened your situation. After the third attempt, Young-il grabbed you by the elbow, leaning closer as he said: “Ignore everything else okay? Just listen to me and focus.”
You nodded, bewildered eyes setting again on the pebbles. You were kneeling in a puddle of blood, which didn’t exactly help calm your nerves.
“Just concentrate. I know you can do it. Look at you, all flushed red and focused. This look suits you.” The pebbles balanced on the knuckles of your hand, just one more throw. You looked up at Young-il, lips slightly parted. Were you hearing correctly? Maintaining eye contact, you threw the pebbles op with a sudden surge of confidence and caught them flawlessly. Everyone cheered and you were hoisted up by your team, but all you could hear were Young-il’s last words whispered in your ear: “Good girl.”
Now he was looking at you, this new tension between you two palpable.
“Anytime.”
***
While you tried to act nonchalant, it was just impossible. The way Young-il now watched you at all times drove you crazy, feeling his gaze like a branding on your body. You were grateful for keeping a watch during the lights off, thinking that it could distract you from your own dirty thoughts. But it was quite the contrary.
Overlooking the silent dark room, those words echoed in you even more soundly. Good girl. With a sigh you stretched out your legs, trying to ignore the tightness in your underbelly. You were annoyed with yourself. Why did the words of a stranger make you feel this way? Words of a married stranger, more like it.
“You seem distracted.”
You jumped at that impassive raspy voice. Thankfully, once Young-ho sat down next to you, he couldn’t notice your flushed cheeks due to the impassable darkness. Your shoulders touched and to your surprise he didn’t immediately move away.
“Oh, it’s nothing, really.” you smiled with your head bowed, nearly chuckling at how clueless he must be.
There was an awkward silence following your reply, so, without thinking about it, you said: “Thank you again for today, truly. You helped me a lot.”
Young-il looked at you, searching for something in your expression. Apparently he found it. “You think about that a lot, don’t you?”
“Sorry?” you stumbled over your words, not knowing how to react, what to say.
“My words alone made you quiver. Now imagine what my tongue could do.” he whispered, teasing you, a spark in his eyes.
“Young-il-“ you breathed out, suddenly aware of how close his face was to yours. You felt your underwear getting wetter by the minute. But you put that all in the back of your mind as you said: “I know you are married. Expecting a child, even. You shouldn’t say things like that.”
He blinked, taken aback. “Does that bother you? Or are you bothered by the effect I have on you?”
You sighed, looking away from his handsome face. Was he sent here just to test your boundaries?
“I still have enough self control to know right from wrong.” But your body wasn’t in line with your thoughts.
Young-il stared at you for a moment, then sighed, irritated. “My wife and my child are gone. I just don’t enjoy talking about them in past tense. I joined the games out of misery, nothing more. Are you happy now?”
You froze, looking at the way his arms formed into fists at his sides. It was like having ice cold water poured all over you.
“Young-il, I’m so-“
“Don’t be. It’s been a long time.” Eyes meeting, he smiled at you tentatively. You squeezed his warm hand and he relaxed, loosening his fist.
“Right now, I don’t care about anything but you.” He caressed your cheek with the back of his hand, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. Moving closer, he kissed the bruise already blossoming on your jaw. And you let him.
“I don’t want to scare you away with my… infatuation. But right now, I’m so desperately weak for you.” Your breathing hitched as he moved his lips to your ear.
Just when you thought he would kiss you, he suddenly pulled away.
“I’ll take over the watch. You should sleep, muster some energy for tomorrow.” You nodded as if in a trance. He helped you stand up and led you to your bed. Young-il left you standing there, leaving only the whisper of his lips branding your cheek.
***
The third game was a whirlwind of movement. Only thanks to Young-il were you still alive and breathing. Every time a number was announced, he firmly grasped your wrist and dragged you with him wherever he went. Not that you were complaining - you were so overstimulated by all the commotion that you were glad you could keep up with him.
When one player tried to separate you from him, Young-il bared his teeth and kicked him square in the chest. “She’s mine,” There it was, the cold expression and clenched jaw. Even though you were on the brink of dying, a shiver ran down your spine.
You made it safe with your group into one of the rooms and soon were walking out to play the last round. You knew exactly what the woman’s voice was going to announce and you were right: “Two.”
Young-il was already moving, pushing people out of your way. Everything seemed to go smoothly, until you reached the room; a player was already inside.
“Get out.” Young-il growled and reached the man, trying to get him on his legs and out of the room.
“We were here first,” the player whimpered. You noticed other players running to the door you were standing next to and panicking, you closed it, pushing your whole body against it.
You looked over your shoulder at Young-il, wanting to see if he was any closer to pushing the player out through the doors. But you froze when you saw he was holding the man in a headlock, choking him. All you could do was stare.
Young-il was looking straight back at you. And with one smooth motion of his arms he broke the man’s spine, leaving him staring at the ceiling, going limp in Young-il’s grip.
“I’d do anything for you, Y/N.” Young-il said, slowly getting up. You couldn’t tear your gaze from the lifeless body on the ground.
Only when he knelt in front of you did your eyes meet his. He grabbed your cold, shaking hands, kissing the knuckles while staring into your eyes.
“You’re scaring me,” you whispered, a tear rolling down your cheek.
“You poor thing,” Young-il said absentmindedly, wiping your tears away. “I can keep you safe, Y/N. I promise. All I’ve done was to prove that to you.”
“It’s scaring me how far you’re willing to go for me,” you sobbed, fighting the urge to flinch when he caressed your cheek. Still, you couldn’t find a reason to hate him. All the things he was saying were true, he did all of this for you, he killed a man for you, for your own safety.
The lock on the doors clicked and you closed your eyes, letting yourself be guided by Young-il out of the room. You knew that if you looked once more at the corpse, you would never let Young-il touch you again.
So you kept your eyes closed, choosing the easier path.
***
When the lights went out, all you could do was hold Young-il as hard as possible and count the minutes until the slaughter was over. Head against his chest, you concentrated on the sound of his heartbeat, every other sound pushed into the background. His hand was on your lower back, holding you as close as possible.
“I want to go home.” you whispered, clutching the front of his T-shirt like a small child. It was all a mistake. You shouldn’t be here.
“Okay, you will, okay? When we disarm the guards, you stay hidden, but once we take control of the rest, you have to come to my side, you understand?”
You nodded into his chest. Young-il kissed the crown of your head before leaving you under the bed as the guards tried to take control of the situation.
After many gunshots fired, you were crawling to the group of players formed in front of the main doors. Without hesitation you claimed one of the smaller guns for yourself. Somehow, the familiar weight of it calmed you down a bit. Young-il looked at you with tenseness.
“Keeping secrets, I see.” In reply you just loaded the gun, staring back.
Gi-hun looked your way over his shoulder, sending you a quick nod. The group exited the room, moving quickly down the corridor. Young-il stayed back, moving slower than the rest. Once the first guards got in your way, he pushed you to the side, saying: “This way!” Looking over your shoulder, everyone was shooting at the enemy, moving the other way. You looked back at him, unsure.
“You wanted to go home, didn’t you? Well, this is it.” seeing how indecisive you were, he sighed, “You trust me, don’t you?”
Hesitant, you followed his lead. You took the side stairs up and you got a bad feeling in your stomach. Young-il didn’t bother to check the corners, nor the other stories as you climbed the stairs. He walked like someone who knew this place, someone who wasn’t scared that he might be shot.
You stopped in your tracks, aiming your gun with a trembling hand. Young-il, upon noticing you were not following him, turned around. There was something like betrayal shining through his demeanour.
“You’re going to explain.” you said, trying to keep your voice and hand steady.
“Oh, Y/N, I think you already know.” Young-il pointed out, a corner of his lips curling up. He took one step towards you.
“What. Is. Your. Real. Name.” you said through gritted teeth, cocking your gun.
“Hwang In-ho.”
All this time, he was the long lost brother Jun-ho was trying to find. You felt the sting of betrayal in your bones.
“Was any of this real?” Tears stung in your eyes and you hated yourself for being so vulnerable.
“Oh, baby,” In-ho sighed, walking to you, kneeling in front of you again. The muzzle of the gun touched his forehead, which he seemed unbothered by.
“Everything.” he said, looking up at you.
“I keep trying to hate you,” you whispered, trying to muster at least some hatred that would make you pull the trigger. “It would be so much easier if I did.”
In-ho reached out and gently took the gun from your trembling hand. He threw in on the ground, making it slide on the floor.
“I know,” he whispered, grabbing your hips with his hands. He stared at you yearningly. There was a burning ache in your chest clawing its way into your throat.
“Stop looking at me like that.”
“I can’t. And I don’t think you want me to either.”
The worst part was that he was right.
“I know I should stay away from you, but I can’t. It’s not that simple.” A sob tore out of your throat, making it hard for you to breathe. There were so many emotions in you that your head was spinning. All you knew was the fact that you couldn’t hate the one person who deserved it the most.
“Stay with me, love. I beg you,” In-ho said hoarsely, gripping you harder, trying to make you understand. “You will be safe with me. I will not break that promise.” His eyes were filled with hope. “You felt it too, I know.”
You closed your eyes, composing yourself and your thoughts. You knew it was wrong. But you always had a weakness for the forbidden.
In-ho stood up, taking your face in his hands. He kissed your forehead, your temples, your jaw. And when he kissed you on the lips, you let yourself melt into the touch, forgetting everything else.
“You’ll be the death of me.” you whispered against his lips and he smiled into the kiss, knowing you were his.
#hwang in ho x reader#in ho#in ho x reader#hwang inho x reader#inho x reader#front man#front man x reader#young il x reader#young il#squid game 2 x reader#squid game x reader#squid game 2#squid game
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Protector | Feyd-Rautha x reader
ANON REQUEST: your marriage to Feyd-Rautha is an arranged one, and your only task is to provide an heir. When you finally become pregnant, your new husband suddenly grows obsessed with you—but does he care about you, or is he simply protective of his progeny?
Warnings: pregnancy, labor, and related talk; canon typical violence
MY REQUESTS ARE OPEN!
Your marriage was one born out of duty, not love. You couldn’t even call it a marriage of convenience; there was nothing convenient about leaving your homeworld and traveling across an entire galaxy to marry someone you had never even met before. Yes, the Houses had agreed beforehand that you were to marry Feyd-Rautha, the Na-Baron of House Harkonnen, and immediately after the deal had been struck you had seen his face and read his writing, but you hadn’t met him until your wedding day.
You had chastised yourself for thinking it could be like the fairytales of Ancient Earth. You, a princess, your betrothed a handsome prince…in the stories of your childhood, he would have whisked you away, off to a great, shining palace full of magical wonders, and you would have lived happily ever after. Instead, your prince had proved to be disinterested in you, busying himself with his arena and his concubines, ignoring you most of the day. The Harkonnen fortress did not shine, nor did it hold any great wonders, and Giedi Prime felt far from magical, with its harsh black sun and polluted landscape.
After your vows, you had naively thought your wedding night would be full of romance. Perhaps you had been holding onto hope as a means to protect yourself, clinging to optimism to distract yourself from your harsh, sad reality. You had been all too eager to shed your dress and veil in Feyd-Rautha’s living quarters, though had not expected them to be ruined by his blade, and you had not expected him to greedily conquer you as if it were yet another battle in the arena. He had slept next to you that night, but had made it painfully obvious that he had no interest in holding you or even touching you, keeping far to his side of the bed while you remained far to yours. In the morning, you had awoken alone, and had realized that it was the beginning of a long and lonely road on your new planet.
Everyone expected an heir. That was the entire point of this marriage, a legitimate heir for the Harkonnen line. Anyone else could have done it—you were of fine breeding, yes, but any of the other Houses could have offered up a daughter to suffer at Feyd-Rautha’s side. Why it had to be you surely came down to the only things powerful men seemed to care about—money and spice. An allegiance with House Harkonnen protected your family, and your small share of spice harvesters on Arrakis added yet another drop into their vast bucket and one less smuggling operation to worry about. Your parents were happy. Baron Vladimir Harkonnen was happy.
And you were miserable.
Two months after your wedding, your monthly cycle continued as normal, and you were forced to shamefully inform the na-Baron. After an annoyed sound and a grimace, he bent you over the nearest table and took you for a second time, leaving you to clean yourself up and cry at your husband’s callousness. You didn’t know why he couldn’t bring himself to care. You supposed he already had everything he could possibly want; wealth, concubines, a throne to inherit…you brought nothing of real value to him, save for the ability to produce an heir.
Time passed, and it became clear that Feyd-Rautha would have to touch you more than once a month if he was to have any hope of fathering a child. You cursed yourself for your apparent inability to conceive—fertility had been one of your parents’ selling points when negotiating with the Baron, and now, you couldn’t even do the one thing that was expected of you. It brought you to tears every night, the stress of being reduced to this and yet still being unable to perform your task. It was maddening, though you knew you were hardly the first woman to find yourself in such a situation. You did worry, however, that you may have been the weakest.
One evening, as Feyd performed his husbandly duties, he noticed a tear slipping down your cheek and paused. You felt a rough hand cup the side of your face and opened your eyes to find your husband staring at you with dark eyes, his head tilted to suggest he was curious.
“Tears?” He asked in his raspy voice that was still so alien to you.
“My apologies, na-Baron,” you looked away from him.
“You are crying.”
You stifled an annoyed sigh. “Yes.”
“Why?”
“Do not worry yourself with me, husband.” You said.
“Tell me.”
This was perhaps the longest conversation you had had since marrying him, and part of you didn’t want it to end. You looked at him once more, finding him still watching you with that unwavering, predatory gaze, and another tear rolled down your cheek and onto his hand.
“I am sorry I have not given you a child.” You whispered.
“Then let me put one into you.”
His tone sent a chill down your spine, frightening and exciting you all at once. That night, Feyd-Rautha did not let you sleep, shocking you with his determination. It was simply because the sooner you conceived, the sooner he could return to his own concerns, you reasoned.
Sure enough, your period did not arrive when expected, nor did the next. A medical test confirmed what you already knew—you were pregnant, with Feyd-Rautha’s child. A Harkonnen child, who would grow up to be just as ruthless and savage as its father, you thought.
Upon receiving the positive result, you immediately set off to tell the na-Baron. He should not be made to wait; you wanted him to know that the entire point of your union was finally achieved, and that you could both go back to ignoring each other as usual. As you walked, you had the worrying thought that he may not even keep you alive after the delivery.
“Na-Baron,” you addressed him upon finding him in his armory.
He looked up from the blade he was sharpening. “Wife.”
“I bring news,” you said, folding your hands in front of yourself.
“Then tell me, before I grow bored of waiting.” He returned to the hunting knife, looking away from you once more.
“I am with child.”
You watched as Feyd-Rautha paused, tilting his head to look at you. “My child?”
“Yes. Who else could it possibly belong to?” You asked, exasperated. “The physicians confirmed it just now. I wanted you to be the first to know.”
He nodded slowly, looking back at the knife in his hand as he thought. “I see.”
Whatever hopes you had once had for him to suddenly flip his entire personality at the news were quickly dashed by his lack of emotion. You left him there, a hand over your mouth as you tried not to cry, returning to your bed to be alone once more.
-0-
In those earlier days of pregnancy, you were often ill, sprinting from bed to the wash basin nearly every day to be sick. Usually, you were alone; Feyd-Rautha rose early, spending his mornings training and sometimes killing his instructors. Whenever that happened, he would come back, wearing blood and a grin on his face as if he had just won some great contest.
Today, however, he was enjoying a rare occasion of sleeping in. He had begun spending his nights in the center of the bed, crowding you as you attempted to stay away from him. One morning you had even woken up to find his arm throne over you, his body closer than ever. Now, he was sleeping, and you would have been content to let him remain there were you not busy launching yourself over him as you ran to the adjoining wash room.
You missed the way your husband sat up, eyes wide and frenzied as he pulled a dagger from beneath the pillows. When he found the room to be empty and free of danger, he grew confused…until he heard your retching in the next room, and slipped out of bed.
“Wife?” He asked from the doorway.
“What?” You groaned, leaning your cheek on the cool basin.
“…are you alright?”
You sighed. “No, na-Baron, I am not. I mean…I am, I just…”
“You are sick,” he pointed out.
It took every bit of willpower you possessed to swallow down the part of you that desperately wanted to throttle him. “Yes. I am. It’s the pregnancy, the pills from the doctors haven’t been working—“
“This has happened before?” He interrupted.
“Most days, yes,” you felt another wave of nausea coming over you and hunched your shoulders, preparing for the worst.
You never expected to feel a cool hand brushing your hair away from your forehead, nor the feeling of your husband’s chest against your back as he held you.
“Harkonnen women don’t have this problem,” he commented as he held your hair.
It was the least helpful statement he possibly could have made as you vomited once more, and yet it was also quite possibly the best.
“If Harkonnen women have no hair, then what do you pull?” You asked wryly, too ill and too exhausted to hold yourself back.
Feyd-Rautha stared you, unblinking, before a smirk found its way onto his lips. “If you are feeling brave, perhaps I will show you one day.”
You let out a laugh as the nausea ebbed, leaning back against him. “Perhaps one day I will finally stop seeing my lunch so many times, and then you can regale me.”
-0-
Your sickness faded as your pregnancy progressed, thankfully, but Feyd-Rautha’s company did not. By the time you were beginning to truly show, he was refusing to leave you alone, demanding your presence wherever he went. As a result, you sat in on many a sparring session, and he made up his mind to abandon the arena until after the baby was born. His sudden change in attitude was shocking; he had never paid so much attention to anything before, and now, his hands were constantly on you.
“I must keep you safe,” he had said when you first asked about it, and had acted as if it were the most obvious thing in the universe.
You assumed he was protective due to the baby, the precious new heir to the Harkonnen throne. As its vessel, you were afforded some luxuries, but you fully expected that to change after the birth. For now, though, you were content to receive any and all attention your husband saw fit to pay you.
“That went well,” you said one day after the doctor examined you.
“He should not have touched you like that.” Feyd-Rautha growled.
“What do you mean? He’s a doctor,” you laughed, somewhat nervously.
“I did not like it.” His voice was tense.
“I could tell.” You grumbled, dropping your happy façade. He had nearly chased the doctor out of the room, hunting knife in hand. “Examinations are unavoidable, I’m afraid.”
“No more.”
“But—“
“No more strangers touching you.”
"Doctors help," you protested. "Don't you want your child to be healthy?"
At that, Feyd paused in thought. "...You may have a Harkonnen midwife."
"Because a Harkonnen doctor is too much?" You asked dryly.
He glared at you briefly before looking away towards the door. "Come."
You audibly groaned, one hand on your lower back. "Na-Baron, I am tired. I wish to retire to bed."
He looked back at you, and you caught an expression of distress on his face. "I need to train."
"You train every day."
"Yes." he said it as if it were obvious, but something in his tone suggested more; he made it sound urgent, as if it were something he had to do daily, and missing a single session would be disastrous. "Come."
You heaved a sigh and followed him.
-0-
In the months that followed, your unborn child grew, as did your body. You found yourself becoming large and bloated, your gait slowing as your flexibility waned. New maternity gowns were brought to you, an interesting mix of styles--the flowing, heavy garments of your homeworld meeting the simple, stark aesthetics of Giedi Prime. You found them strange, but at that point, you really didn't care; you would have walked around naked if no one would have stopped you. You spent your days feeling uncomfortable and awkward, with swollen feet and a sore lumbar region. Harkonnen servants brought whatever you needed, and your husband ensured--no, demanded--that all of your food be tasted by someone else while you watched so that there could be no chance of poison passing between your lips.
You wondered if this was simply some aspect of Harkonnen culture that the other Houses weren't aware of or never cared to talk about. Perhaps on a planet as harsh and toxic as Giedi Prime, infertility and infant mortality were more commonplace than the rest of the known universe. Perhaps this possessiveness was common among Harkonnen men, if conception was more difficult for their people.
Whether your theory was correct or not, Feyd-Rautha had certainly become even more attached to you. Not a morning went by when he wasn’t there next to you in bed, and as of late, he had begun waking you up by reminding you exactly how you had ended up like this in the first place. Before your pregnancy, he had acted as though bedding you were a boorish duty he had no choice but to perform; now that you were heavy with child, however, he was more than interested in you physically, constantly touching you with those rough, murderous hands.
You enjoyed the attention, and you enjoyed the way he squeezed and massaged you with surprising gentleness. He didn’t want to break you, you supposed, not right now; after the child arrived, perhaps, but not now. That was a grim thought, and one you had often—what was to come of your after the birth? Would Feyd-Rautha want more children, in case this one died some horrible, brutal, Harkonnen death? Or would you be disposed of, no longer needed after his legacy was secured?
You tried not to dwell on it.
One morning, you roused on your own, without Feyd’s interference. Wondering if he was even still there, you reached out to the side, feeling for him—and you nearly jumped when you felt bare flesh beneath your hand. When you rolled onto your back with considerable effort and turned your head to the side, you saw that your husband was there, still sleeping, and that what you had felt was his exposed chest.
You took the moment to look at him, really look at him. He seemed so peaceful like this, when he wasn’t fighting and killing. You had seen him take lives so quickly that his victims hadn’t even known they had died, and you had wondered how someone could be so dismissive of those around them. The first time you had watched your husband slit a throat, you had nearly vomited, and he had found your revulsion amusing; the most recent, however, you had simply sighed and looked away. You were desensitized, it seemed, just like he was, and now, you slept just as easily after watching him commit horrendous acts of violence as he did now.
Feyd-Rautha was handsome as far as Harkonnens went. His skin was smooth like marble, free of the scars and bruises one might expect to see on a warrior. His face, usually so harsh during the waking hours, was relaxed now, and you realized he was beautiful. You couldn’t keep yourself from brushing your fingers over his lips and feeling how surprisingly soft they were, though in a way, this felt wrong. Feyd-Rautha didn’t strike you as the kind of person who would allow this sort of touch, but when would you have this opportunity again? He always rose first in the morning and slept last at night. You never caught him with his guard down, and you kept your hands to yourself during the day. This was the only time you could marvel at him like this.
As your fingers ghosted across his cheek, he twitched, and you froze. Then, to your horror, an eye cracked open, and you knew that he had been awake all along.
When you moved to pull away, he caught your wrist, then covered your hand in his. He held your gaze for several long, strange moments, and you realized that he hadn’t simply been awake—he had been allowing you to touch his face, to explore him in a way you had never been brave enough to before. It felt like a gift, in a way. In his way.
“I apologize,” you breathed, unable to look away from him.
“Why?” He asked, voice deep and rough with sleep.
“I should not have touched you without permission.”
“I am your husband,” he said. “And you are carrying my child. You do not need permission to touch me.”
Somehow, you knew his words carried a deeper meaning. You knew you were one of, if not the only, one on all of Giedi Prime whom he had said those words to. And for the first time since marrying him, you felt that Feyd-Rautha was truly your husband.
-0-
He was with you when the labor began.
You had been lounging in your shared chambers, enduring the final week of your pregnancy. It felt bittersweet, in a way; you had no way of knowing then if you would ever be experiencing this again, and a part of you desperately wanted to hold onto it while the rest was fed up with feeling massive and uncomfortable every day.
Feyd-Rautha had been agitated all morning. It was as if he had known something was about to happen, and he had spent his time barely containing himself as he paced and sharpened knives, attempting to keep to himself and leave you alone and doing a piss poor job of it. You had been ready to chase him out of the room—or at least attempt to—when you felt your waters go and the panic set in.
That had been three hours ago.
Now, you were in your bed, and a shockingly-diligent Harkonnen na-Baron had yet to leave your side. He had briefly stepped into the corridor to bellow at the nearest passerby and your midwife had arrived very quickly as a result, but after that, he had sat down next to you and refused to go anywhere else.
“Is it agony?” He asked as you stood.
You shot him a glare. “I would not wish this sensation on even you.”
He was taken aback by your tone, impressed, even, by the venom in it.
“A short walk about the room may help,” the midwife suggested. “I will assist—“
“No.” Feyd-Rautha was up and at your side in an instant, taking your elbow. “I will.”
You didn’t care who did what, you just wanted it to be over and done with. The labor was progressing quickly, the midwife assured after another check once you were back in bed, and soon, you were wailing and grunting, your face was sweaty, and the na-Baron was staring in awe. You were focused on the task set before you, one hand on Feyd’s arm as you pushed with all your might, and so you could not see the way your husband was looking at you.
When your son was born and crying at the top of his tiny lungs, Feyd-Rautha cut the umbilical cord with a hunting knife and then he stared. It seemed that the entire time, he was incapable of looking away, his eyes glued to either you or the new Harkonnen heir. You supposed he had been too enthralled to order the midwife out of the room, and the woman was smart enough not to push her luck—she did the necessary examinations as quickly as she could, then handed the baby off to you, busying herself with cleaning what looked like a murder scene and gathering the afterbirth when it came. Then, satisfied with her work and the health of the child, she left, and you were alone with your husband and son.
You cradled the infant, tucking him against your breast and pulling the edge of your robe over him in an attempt to keep him warm. He was born pale, like his father, but with a soft layer of hair that made you wonder how much he might grow to look like you. The midwife had said it before she slipped out, and you had to agree—he was beautiful, and you smiled down at him.
A thud startled you and you turned to see that Feyd-Rautha had fallen to his knees at your bedside, looking at you with a reverence you had never seen in anyone before.
“Feyd?” You asked.
He looked between you and your son, and you saw then that something had changed within him over those many months. Gone was the dismissive, uncaring husband you had wed; this Feyd-Rautha had grown to become a protector, one who would fight until his muscles tore from his bones, who would bleed himself dry for you.
“You are stronger than I knew,” he murmured, brushing a thumb over your cheek much the way you had with him all those nights ago.
You felt a lump in your throat. “Come here. Join us.”
He did.
Feyd-Rautha sat with you there, in your bed, the very bed your first child was born in. He watched as your son woke from his peaceful, short nap, and he was privy to the private, intimate moment of his first feeding. He held the baby, staring at him in wonder and what may have been a touch of fear, supporting the both of you as he helped you to the bathing room when you were well enough to stand.
“A son,” he said, watching the baby sleep that night.
“Yes.” You mumbled, exhausted and nearly asleep as well. “Are you pleased, husband?”
“I would have been just as pleased with a daughter.”
That surprised you, and you glanced over your shoulder to see him propped up on an elbow, watching your son as he slept in his simple Harkonnen manger. “Really?”
“Yes,” he said, never once taking his eyes off the child. “I can teach a daughter to fight just as well.” Finally, he looked down at you. “Are you well?”
“As well as can be expected.” You sighed.
“Are you happy?”
“Yes, I am,” you answered him, sleep already dragging you down.
You barely felt his lips as he pressed a kiss to your temple, and you barely heard his voice as he said,
“I am as well.”
-0-
You had expected Feyd-Rautha to grow cold in the weeks following your son’s birth, but he never had. He was attentive, caring for you in a way that suggested he felt some primal urge to drag back great beasts for dinner every night but modern living prohibited that.
Now, you watched as he stood before one of the massive windows within the Harkonnen palace. It was evening on Giedi Prime, but the black sun casted no shadows over the landscape. Feyd-Rautha held your son, whispering to him, and as you watched, you wished the moment could stretch on forever.
“Husband,” you said, approaching him.
“Wife,” he greeted you, turning.
“On your evening walk together, I see.”
He chuckled. “I am showing him everything he will one day rule over.”
“I am surprised you haven’t taken him into battle with you yet,” you said sarcastically.
“I will strap him to my chest so that he might taste the blood of House Atreides,” he said with a grin.
“The youngest Harkonnen warrior the world has ever seen.” You smiled, leaning in to check on what appeared to be a perfectly happy, albeit possibile bloodthirsty, baby.
“What are you doing walking alone?” Feyd-Rautha asked.
“Looking for you.”
“And now that you have found me, what do you intend to do?”
You leaned into your husband, resting your head on his shoulder. “Drop the baby off with the wet nurse, seduce you, take you to bed and then have my way with you.”
“You have my attention.”
“I thought you might be interested in trying for a girl this time…”
In a blink, he had spun you around and was dragging you down the corridor, and once the baby was safely tucked in with a nursemaid watching over him, you did indeed have your way with your husband. And again. And again. And you realized, as you retired to bed that night, that you were truly glad to have been arranged to marry Feyd-Rautha, heir to the Harkonnen throne and father of your children.
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not enough jace requests you say? 🧐 how about Jace ends up marrying aegons twin sister as a way to prevent war but the whole time he compares her to baela and is upset since baela was who he was supposed to marry. Reader then overhears what he says about her and realizes it will never be a marriage of love, only duty- so she starts being cold to him and he realizes he messed up
this is formatted as a drabble :)
could have | jacaerys velaryon
pairing: jacaerys velaryon x fem!reader
warnings: just a lil angst
────── ☾ ──────
You were always second-best. You were Aegon’s twin sister, and your family revolved around Aegon. Aegon the eldest, Aegon the rightful heir to the throne, Aegon the pinnacle of the Greens.
You were not simply you, but the better half of him. You were always Aegon’s sister, the other one who shared his birth date. Your side of the family always prioritized Aegon, your mother especially. The closer Rhaenyra got to the throne, the more she wanted Aegon on it.
You did not want your brother on the throne. Being that your minds were connected, you knew him better than anyone, and therefore, you knew better than anyone that he should not be left in charge of ruling an entire realm.
That is why your betrothal to Jacaerys was a positive for you: it prevented a war that would occur if your mother pushed Aegon on the throne. It also allowed for you to reside with the other side of your family, a side that knew Rhaenyra deserved the throne, and a side that could hopefully see you as something other than second-best to Aegon.
You quickly felt like second-best to someone else upon your arrival to Dragonstone.
You felt guilty when your betrothal to Jacaerys was announced. You knew he was already betrothed to Baela Targaryen, and you hoped that another match for Baela would be announced shortly to absolve you of that guilt.
When you first arrived in Dragonstone, you met Baela, and immediately apologized for ruining her betrothal. Regardless of you or Jacaerys’s feelings about the matter, this was not up to you, so you had no choice. Baela understood, and she held no resentment toward you. She cared for Jacaerys, but not marrying him did not mean changing that, so she was alright with it.
Jacaerys, however, was very professional with you at all times. Despite your predicament, there was always a wall up with him. Up until your wedding day, you barely spoke, and when you did, he was Prince Jacaerys Velaryon, never just Jace. Not the way he was with Baela.
You desperately wanted to know the man you were to marry. If you were to spend the rest of your life with him, proving him with heirs, and taking care of his every need as a husband, you wished to get along. You craved a connection that was rarely found, but you were determined.
You would try to catch him reading in the library, alone in his chambers, or getting ready in the morning, but when he wasn’t alone, he was with Baela. You could tell they had a strong connection, and you still felt bad for breaking their betrothal, but part of you was also annoyed. Jacaerys was now your betrothed, and that should be you occupying his time.
You could sense that Jacaerys was upset with your arrangement. He did not avoid you, but did not seek you out.
In his mind, he was subconsciously comparing you to Baela. He was finding any reason to continue being upset about your arrangement. There was nothing practically wrong with you, but he wanted what he had expected his entire life. He wanted what could have been. He would listen to you speak during council, which Rhaenyra insisted you attend due to the influx of information about the Greens you could provide, and he would consider if Baela would say the same. He would try to picture you as his wife, and it would not make his heart swell the way it did when he pictured the same of Baela.
Still, you held out hope that your marriage could be more than a political alliance. You were going to spend the rest of your life with him, and you craved some sort of romantic or lustful connection. He was handsome, that much was agreed upon by most, and you loved his passion and confidence.
He barely spoke to you on the day of your wedding.
He spoke his vows as if he were giving a political speech. You only saw him smile when commonfolk approached the table to congratulate you two, and you could tell it was disingenuous.
When it came time for the bedding ceremony, you refused to undress. Jacaerys sat on the bed, confusion evident on his face. Even though he said it was important to consummate the marriage, you said you did not wish to force him, and you would simply tell everyone you did your duty. You left the room before either of you began to undress.
Despite your new marital state, things did not change. You tried to reach out to Jacaerys, but he pulled back.
You felt your heart sink when you walked past his chambers and overheard him speaking to someone about you.
“I just cannot help but wonder what could have been if things did not have to change. I will continue to do my duty as a husband, but that is all I have in me.”
You swallowed back tears. You always held out hope that things would shift, even if only a little, but it was hopeless. Your marriage would never be one of love, it would only be one of duty.
Hearing his words confirm it as such was enough for you to decide to pull back. If he had no intention of trying, there was no point in your doing so.
You began to be cold to Jacaerys, giving him the same attention he gave you, which was practically none.
He would greet during the beginning of council meetings, and you would ignore him.
He would pull out your chair for you, like a dutiful husband does, and you would say a simple “thank you” and sit.
You no longer made the effort to ask him how his food was at supper. You no longer made the effort to help him with his clothing pins in the morning.
When you were getting ready to sleep one night, Jacaerys actually spoke to you.
“What troubles you as of late?” he asked.
You acted nonchalant, continuing to brush out your hair. “What do you mean?”
“You seem off.”
“I am simply doing my duty, and nothing more.” You somewhat spat the words out, your tone laced with venom.
Jacaerys was taken aback by your candor. “If that is how you wish for this marriage to be, then so be it.”
You turned in your chair to face him. “I am not the one who wishes for a strictly dutiful marriage, Jacaerys.”
“Meaning?” he responded, “I do not wish to live out the rest of my days in a constant state of nothingness.”
“That is not what you have been saying.”
“To what are you referring?”
You sighed. “Jacaerys, I know you wish you had the opportunity to marry Baela. I am sure she knows it too. However, I do think it disrespectful to so openly complain about our courtship.”
Jacaerys knew what you were referring to. He ran his fingers through his hair, taking a deep breath while you continued to brush your hair in the silence.
“I did not intend for you to hear it,” he spoke.
“Evidently.”
“I know I’ve ruined things.”
You stopped your actions. You put your brush down, standing and walking over to him. “I only wish to please you, as your wife. I apologize that I am not the woman you intended yourself for.”
You touched his hand, holding it in your own briefly before taking residence on the bed.
Jacaerys watched you, unsure of what to do.
“You may join me, if you’d like,” you stated.
Jacaerys sat on the edge of the bed and turned toward you, giving you a small smile.
#jacaerys velaryon#jacaerys targaryen#jacaerys velaryon one shot#jacaerys velaryon drabble#jacaerys velaryon fanfic#jacaerys velaryon x y/n#jacaerys velaryon imagines#jacaerys velaryon x reader#house of the dragon#jacaerys velaryon angst#asks
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cat-sitter | max verstappen
max verstappen x roommate!reader
You’re Max’s cat sitter but maybe you were than that.
prompt: Fixing each other’s clothes (+ saying “you look good.”)
beachy’s masterlist🐚
request are open!
Max was always on the move, his busy schedule keeping him away from home more often than not. Jimmy and Sassy, were his babies, but their care became difficult with his constant travel. After a series of unreliable pet sitters, Max decided to find a live-in cat sitter, someone who could provide consistent care and companionship for his beloved kitties.
You, an animal lover with loads pet care experience, stumbled upon Max’s ad. The idea of living in a luxurious apartment while taking care of two adorable cats was too good to pass up, especially given the high cost of living in Monaco. After a successful interview and trial period, you settled in.
Jimmy and Sassy quickly bonded with you. Your affectionate nature filling the apartment with warmth. Over time, You and Max developed a close friendship, sharing stories and experiences from different worlds. The arrangement was perfect, and you were more than just a cat-sitter —you were what Max considering a close friend and maybe he developed a crush on you, but you didn’t know that.
- ✰ -
Max was getting ready for an important gala. The apartment was a mess multiple dress shirts and shoes thrown around, you lounged comfortably in your comfy clothes, enjoying watching TV with Jimmy and Sassy. Max emerged from his room, struggling with the buttons on his dress shirt, his cheeks flushed from anger, you assumed.
“You look like you could use some help,” you teased, noticing his frustration.
He glanced at you, a sheepish smile on his face. “Yeah, these buttons are impossible.”
You walked over and began to button his shirt, your fingers moving deftly over the fabric. Max watched you, a soft smile playing on his lips.
“Thanks,” he said as you finished, adjusting his collar.
You looked up, your eyes meeting his. “You look good,” you muttered quietly, almost to yourself, as your hands smoothed out the chest of his shirt.
Max’s gaze softened, his expression warm. “You look good too,” he replied, his voice just as soft.
For a moment, you both stood there, the air between you thick with tension. Your heart raced, and you felt a flush rise to your cheeks. Both of you jumping apart hearing Sassy yowl, you smile softly.
“I should let you finish getting ready and go check on them,” you said, turning to walk away.
Max watched you, disappointment in his eyes. “Are you sure you don’t want to come to the gala? It could be fun.”
You shook your head, a shy smile on your lips. “No, thanks. You go have fun.”
As you walked away, you could feel Max’s eyes on you. He sighed, feeling a pang of disappointment. The gala was a prestigious event, but the thought of going without you felt strangely hollow.
You sat down looking at Sassy and Jimmy who know stare at you, bored looks on their faces, “cockblockers,” you mutter turing back to your show.
Max came out, clearing his throat you and the cats turn around, Sassy scans him up and down then goes back to sleeping in your lap.
“So how do I look?” he asks, messing with his watch you scan him swallowing deeply, “Uh you look good, you’re going to have women all over you.” you say giving him a smile, his eyes light up you both stand their looking at each other before his phone rings, “it’s Yazmin,” he says, your heart drops to your ass.
Yazmin was a girl Max went on a few dates with but they never made it official, “She’s going by to the gala too?” you ask trying not to sound jealous.
“Uh yeah, great PR y’know.” he chuckles awkwardly, your smiles fades, but you nod.
“You should get going Max, traffic is going to be bad.” you say monotonely facing the TV.
“Right, you sure you’re good here?” he asks you only give him a nod, he sighs giving one last glance before closing the door behind him.
Max attended the gala, but his heart wasn’t in it. He mingled with the who’s who of the racing world, smiling for the cameras and making small talk. Yazmin clung to his arm, her laughter loud and her comments superficial.
“Did you see the shoes she was wearing?” Yazmin whispered to Max, pointing discreetly at a woman across the room. “quite hideous, don’t you think?”
Max forced a smile. “Yeah, sure.”
As the night went on, Yazmin’s became more apparent. She wrinkled her nose at a charity auction for an animal shelter. “Ugh, why would anyone waste money on stray animals?”
Max winced, thinking of you and your gentle way with Jimmy and Sassy. He excused himself and checked his phone, hoping for a message from you. There was nothing. Yazmin noticed his distraction.
“Max, are you even listening to me?” she snapped.
“Sorry, Yaz. I just… I need some air,” he said, stepping outside to clear his head.
Back at the apartment, you tried to focus on the show, but your mind kept replaying the earlier moment with Max. The way he looked at you, his soft compliment, and the unexpected tension between you left you feeling confused. Jimmy and Sassy sensed your unease and cuddled closer, their purring a soothing comfort.
You wondered how Max was doing at the gala. A part of you regretted not going, but the idea of seeing him with Yazmin had been too much to bear. You sighed, deciding to make the most of the quiet evening.
The gala finally ended, and Max found himself eager to leave. He looked around for Yazmin and was met with the sight of her sucking faces with a boy way younger than her. Upon closer look, he realized the boy was an F2 driver. Max grimaced but said his goodbyes and made his way back to the apartment, feeling a sense of relief as he stepped through the door.
The quietness of the place felt like a balm to his soul. Jimmy greeted him with sleepy purrs, his warm body weaving around his legs.
Max looked around, hoping to see you. He found you in the living room, the TV still on, but you were fast asleep on the couch. He smiled softly, feeling a surge of affection. You looked peaceful, one hand resting on Sassy, who was curled up beside you.
He approached quietly, not wanting to wake you, but Jimmy beat him to it, meowing loudly. You stirred, blinking up at Max with sleepy eyes.
“Hey,” you murmured, sitting up and rubbing your eyes. “How was the gala?”
Max shrugged, his eyes never leaving yours. “It was okay. Missed you there, though.”
You felt your cheeks heat up at his words. “I didn’t think it was my kind of scene.”
Max nodded, understanding. “I get it. But it would have been more fun with you there.”
You both fell into a comfortable silence, the tension from earlier replaced by a warmth. Max took a seat beside you, his proximity sending a flutter through your stomach.
“You know,” he began, his voice soft, “I couldn’t stop thinking about what you said earlier.”
Your heart raced. “What do you mean?”
Max looked at you, his gaze intense. “When you said I looked good. It meant a lot coming from you.”
You smiled shyly. “Well, you did. You do.”
Max reached out, gently taking your hand in his. “And you look good too. You always do.”
The air between you thickened again, but this time, it felt different—more certain, more intimate. Max leaned in slightly, his eyes searching yours for any sign of hesitation.
“Max,” you whispered, your voice barely audible.
“Yeah?” he replied, his breath warm against your skin.
You hesitated for a moment before closing the gap between you, pressing your lips to his in a soft, tentative kiss. Max responded immediately, his hand coming up to cup your cheek, deepening the kiss. The kiss quickly grew more intense, and you found yourself laying back on the couch, Max’s body hovering over yours.
His lips moved against yours with a hunger that made your head spin. You tangled your fingers in his hair, pulling him closer. The feel of his weight on you, the taste of him, it was all too much and not enough at the same time.
When you finally broke apart, both of you were breathless. You stared up at Max, your heart pounding in your chest.
“What about Yazmin?” you asked, your voice a whisper.
Max smiled, a twinkle in his eye. “She found an F2 driver.”
You couldn’t help but laugh, relief flooding through you. Max brushed a strand of hair from your face, his thumb grazing your cheek.
“You sure you don’t want to come to the next gala?” he asked, his voice hopeful.
You smiled up at him. “I’ll go with you anywhere.”
He grinned, leaning down to peck your lips, both of you smiling softly at each other.
“Good to know.” he murmured, nestling himself into your neck.
#max verstappen imagine#max verstappen#max verstappen x reader#be4chywrites#f1 x reader#f1 imagine#f1 x y/n#max verstappen x you#max verstappen x female reader
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building community on the indie web - neocities guide part 2
neocities is a free hosting website that lets you build your own html website from scratch, with total creative control. neocities is part of the indie web, but certainly not all of it!
If you're looking to get started with the nitty gritty of neocities, i recommend checking out my neocities guide part 1 :) part 2 is focused on forming a community & making connections.
why join neocities/the indie web?
by building your own site, you have the freedom to make whatever cool shit you want. no limits, no censors, no masters. just you and your website. connect with people or just tend to your own virtual garden, the choice is completely yours.
okay. you have a site. now what?
do you want to build & foster a free web community? here's some things you can do or add to your site to start making connections
create a button for your page
making a button for your site is a great way to connect with other indie web users! site buttons are usually 88x31 pixels and should be easily located on your site.
many users create collections of site buttons, or web neighborhoods. this is an easy way for you to remember & share your favorite sites! remember, we're not working with an algorithm here.
hekate button maker
sadgrl button maker
lynn button maker
join a web ring (or clique)!
web rings were created in the 90s, before google, as a way for websites to link to one and other. web rings are often themed so you can find like-minded people with ease, but they don't need to be!
once you join a web ring, you add a snippet of code to your site so when people "hop along" the web ring they'll discover your page.
brisray's webring list has an enormous list of mostly active web rings you can check out. here are some examples!
melonland surf club
hotline webring
wiiring
no ai webring
journalring
west of weird: gravity falls webring
ficring
join a pixel club!
starting in the 2000s, pixel clubs are a great way for people to create & share art with each other. pixel clubs tend to follow a theme & provide base art for each user to customize however they want. for example, in the afternoon tea pixel club each user creates a unique tea cup.
fizzy vendor
charm bracelets
teeny towers
sticker sheet club
kitty friends
lava lounge
participate in one of 32-bit cafe's web events!
32-bit cafe is a community of web-hobbyists enthusiast about making the web fun again. they periodic events challenging participants to create a site page following a certain a theme or guidelines, like their new years eve event or 2024 halloween.
more past events
create adoptables, pixels & a toy box
one popular thing that people will do is create adoptable pixel art that others can add to their page! people will often put all of the adoptables that they've collected into a "toy box."
(protip: etiquette requires you to hyperlink back to the original source site whenever you add new graphics to your toybox. it's just polite!)
hillhouse pixels
inkcaps toybox
appledust adoptables
blanket fort adoptables
whimsical graphics
create web graphics (and a "for you" graphics page)
when browsing personal sites, you'll often see "graphics for you" pages! these pages are full of graphics/fun stuff that you can add to your own site for free. yes, free baby! just link back to the og or give credit when requested.
making a page for graphics is cool! making graphics is cool!! indulge your creativity! share fun stuff! some things you can create:
make blinkies
dive into geocities and rescue old graphics
create stamps
make gifs
make pixel art
other interactive stuff
create a poll
create a chat box
create a guestbook
last thing to remember kids... always avoid hotlinking! (hotlinking is when you add images to your site using a link instead of downloading it and uploading to your own website)
as always, say hi to me on neocities!! :)
#neocities#old web#indie web#web revival#web core#old internet#html#web resources#web graphics#geocities#early internet#y2k#ive been wanting to make a part 2 for awhile so here it is!!!#i think a lot of people start a site and then kind of wonder what to do next#and i feel like finding a little community is really fun#neocities is a thousand times better than social media i promise#i saw someone saying that it was just another type of social media... it really really is not#anyways! enjoy my friends!!
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Deer Demon Child Headcanons
Requested
Alastor & Child Reader
Warnings? ⚠
⚠ implied death, mention of blood, mention of cannibalism, weapons-gun ⚠
It was a surprise to everyone that a child wandered into the hotel.
A little deer demon.
That's you
Climbed up one of the bar stools and stared the cat man down until he finally noticed them.
"Uh..hey? Kid."
"I want juice!", you pointed at a bottle behind him that was on the shelf.
"That's not juice."
While distracting you with magic tricks and cards games, Husk called Charlie to let her know that a new guest had arrived.
The Princess ran to get to the lobby and rushed over to the bar.
"Hi! Welcome to the Hazbin Hotel!", Charlie sings out before noticing the little deer. "Oh."
Everyone is called into the lobby.
"Ok!", Charlie claps her hands together and introduces you to the group. "Everyone, be nice and say hi."
Later on you are asked by Vaggie and Charlie how you got to the "red place."
Mostly everyone left and it was only you three. Four.
"Before I woke up here I was with my moma.", you said while coloring your drawing. "Dad had a shiney toy in his drawer and showed it to me a lot of times. It made fun clicking noises. I wanted to play with it, so I took it out."
As you were explaining you drew out the shape of a gun.
"I wanted to show Moma but she looked scared. And when I tried to make the clicky noise it came out different. It made a bang and then Moma fell."
You drew your mother covered in red.
"I tried to wake her up but she wouldn't get up. I got sad and started crying."
You didn't notice Charlie and Vaggie looking sad.
"Then Dad came home and started screaming at me and took the toy away. And then everything went dark for a while."
Picking up your paper, you showed the girls your drawings.
"And then I woke up to the red sky!"
Charlie hugged you after and said that she'll make sure you go to Heaven.
Oof sad backstory.
Husk literally growls at Alastor everytime he mentions venison for dinner.
Alastor has joked to others that he'll eat you but stopped once he grew fond of you.
"Little fawn.", he smiles as he greets you. "Would you like gingerbread cookies?"
To be honest, everyone is worried that Alastor might kill you. But surprise, surprise! They are shocked when he takes care of you instead.
You're the favorite hotel guest.
Anyone that tries anything will be taken care of.
Charlie did a talent show day and you sang, surprising everyone with your angelic like voice.
You're a curious little deer and the hotel guests and staff find you in odd places.
Once Angel found you upsidedown behind the couch that was against the wall.
"What are ya doing back there?", he asked after pulling you out.
"Niffty said there was treasure!", you smiled.
Alastor finds it adorable that you go to him when someone you don't know/scary person is in the hotel.
Sir Pentious is told to put all of his weapons away.
Everyone dubs you as Alastor's child. Even the Radio Demon himself.
Vaggie threatens Alastor after he jokes that you'll be a cannibal like him.
Of course he'd never do that but its funny to see Vagatha's and Husker's pissed off faces.
Alastor keeps up with the human news and learns that your father went to prison. So the Radio Demon waits for the man to fall.
Art will be provided. (Later)
~Seline, the person.
Part 2
Art
Taglist@
@ducky-died-inside @scary-noodlesblog @c4rved-pumpk1n @stolas-thebirb @naelys-the-aster @biromanticboba @kiraisastay @faioula16 @pooplyface1423 @lbcreations-blog @+?
ML for Alastor🎙
#gn reader#x reader#alastor and child reader#child reader#platonic#alastor#alastor hazbin hotel#hazbin alastor#hazbin hotel alastor#alastor the radio demon#the radio demon#fanfic#deer demon reader#little baby#fawn reader#hazbin hotel husk#hazbin hotel charlie#hazbin hotel niffty#hazbin hotel vaggie#hazbin hotel angel dust#hazbin hotel pentious#hazbin hotel fanfiction#hazbin hotel#alastor & reader#hazbin hotel x reader
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green with envy.
pairing: theodore nott x reader.
request: omg i need more of theo x reader with a hint of flirty draco
song inspiration: jealous by nick jonas.
author's note: ask and you shall receive. here's draco scheming to make theo jealous, which we all know won't end well. happy new year's my loves. we're staring 2024 off with a bang 😉
“Merlin, they can’t possibly be serious.” Draco muttered in disbelief. “Those two truly aren’t fooling anyone.”
Blaise glanced up from his book, searching for the cause of Malfoy’s offense. The Three Broomsticks was packed, but it wasn’t hard to spot the reason for his friend’s griping. Tucked into a secluded corner of the tavern, you and Theo gravitated towards each other like magnets, leaning into one another, foreheads pressed together, talking and laughing like you were the only people in the world.
It had been this way ever since Blaise could remember.
As always, Theo wore that stupid love-struck expression on his face as he listened to you talk, chuckling softly as you waved your arms around animatedly. You, on the other hand, seemed completely oblivious to the pining and yearning coming from Nott’s end. Anyone with an ounce of common sense could see that Theo was clearly in love with you, yet you remained blind to his affections.
“They’ve made it very clear that they’re just friends,” Blaise replied, repeating the same tired words that you and Theodore declared over and over again over the course of your friendship.
“And you believe them?”
“Of course not.” Blaise affirmed as he flipped through the pages of his book once more. “But who am I to burst their blissful bubble of ignorance?”
“They’re clearly in denial,” Draco remarked, watching intently as you picked a nonexistent piece of lint off of Theo’s quidditch sweater. “It’s been seven years of this pathetic teetering between will they or won’t they territory. I can’t stomach another day of it, Blaise. Someone needs to do something.”
“Whatever half-arsed plan you’ve cooked up in that ferret brain of yours, I want no part in it.”
Draco tapped his fingers against the wooden table, a familiar smirk curving at his lips. Blaise sighed in exasperation. He knew that look. He hated that look. It usually meant that Malfoy was hatching a scheme that spelled nothing but trouble for Blaise.
“I’m serious, Draco.” Blaise said in a stern voice.
“So am I,” the blonde replied. “Those two need a push and I’m more than willing to provide it for them.”
“I already know that I’m going to regret asking, but what exactly are you planning?”
Draco smirked. Blaise swore to Salazar that there was an evil gleam in his friend’s eyes as he turned over to face him. “I’m going to flirt with Y/N.”
“Are you mental?” Blaise exclaimed. “Nott will send you to an early grave. Did you see what he did to Pucey for trying to chat Y/N up? Poor bastard had to eat his meals through a straw for weeks.”
“Then I guess it’s your job to prevent that from happening, Zabini.”
There were a million protests on Blaise’s lips. Everyone knew that Theo was overprotective of his best friend. It was an unspoken rule that you were off-limits and Blaise had seen first hand the consequences that befell anyone that dared to hit on you. It usually ended with someone in the infirmary and that someone was never Theo.
Draco was well aware of this fact as well, but he seemed to have a death wish. Before Blaise could stop him, Malfoy scooped two glasses of butterbeer from the counter and made his way over to you just as Theo excused himself for a smoke. You looked up just as Draco slipped into the booth, sliding beside you to take up the vacant spot your best friend left.
“Fancy seeing you here, Y/N.”
“Hi, Dray.” You greeted the blonde with a smile. “I didn’t know you were here, too.”
“How could you?” He drawled playfully. “Theodore seems content keeping you all to himself.”
You rolled your eyes fondly. “You could’ve easily just come over to join us.”
“That’s exactly what I’m doing, darling.” Draco set a mug of ice cold butterbeer down in front of you. “And I brought your favorite.”
“How sweet of you.” You beamed, totally unaware of his schemes as you clinked your glass against his. “Cheers, Draco.”
“Cheers, Y/N.”
The sweetness of the butterbeer lingered on your tongue and the foam rested on your upper lip as you savored the taste. Your tongue peeked out, trying to lick the remnants away. Silver eyes flashed mischievously as he clocked the action, a smirk curling against his lips.
“Here, let me.” Draco brushed his thumb over your upper lip, wiping away the foam with ease. His fingers were soft and featherlight and nothing like the calloused feel of Theo’s hands.
Your best friend had a bad habit of burning his fingertips from the countless blunts and cigarettes he smoked. Despite the fact that you offered to heal them with magic, Theo always refused. He said it made him more manly. Though you rolled your eyes at him, you found that you didn’t really mind his scars and calluses. It only made him that much more endearing. Why you were thinking of Theo while another man was touching you, you had no idea. Or perhaps you did and you were just in deep, deep denial about it.
“Have I lost you, love?”
With a blink, you found yourself staring back at Malfoy. “Sorry, Draco. What were you saying?”
“I asked if you were using a new shampoo,” said your friend. He twirled a strand of your hair between his fingers, using the ends to tickle your cheek. “Your hair smells divine.”
You paused, narrowing your eyes at Draco. “What are you doing, Dray?”
“I’m not doing anything.”
“You’re up to something.”
That much was obvious to you. Years of friendship told you just as much. Draco was currently plotting something. Before you could question him further, a shadow loomed over the both of you. When Theo had left for his smoke break, he was carefree and grinning, but now tension colored your best friend’s features. As he glared down at Draco, Theo clenched his jaw and balled his fists at his side.
“Keep your hands to yourself, Malfoy.”
“Teddy, he was just helping me with—“
“Draco doesn’t need to help you with anything.” Theo’s eyes flashed with anger, the blues and greens of his irises turning stormy as his gaze dropped to the lock of hair tangled through Draco’s fingers. “What he needs is to walk away before I break his fucking jaw.”
Draco raised his palms up. “I don’t want any trouble, Nott.”
Despite his statement, you sensed that trouble was exactly what Draco was aiming for. Instead of walking away like he should’ve, Malfoy leaned over and kissed your cheek in parting, which only further incensed Theo. If you hadn’t grabbed hold of the end of his coat, Theo would’ve hurled himself at Draco and punched the cocky smirk off of your friend’s face.
You tugged at Theo and placed yourself between him and Draco, watching as the blonde returned to the table Blaise was currently sitting at. For good measure, he winked at the two of you as though Theo wasn’t already pissed enough as it was.
“What the hell’s gotten into you?” Theo’s gaze flickered back to you, his eyes darkening as they met yours.
“Why the fuck are you letting him touch you like that?”
The bite in his voice puzzled you. Theo never snapped at you, so you weren’t quite sure how to react. He almost sounded…jealous. Not that Theo had any reason to be. Right?
“What are you on about? Draco was literally just wiping the foam off of my mouth. It’s not a big deal.”
Downplaying the interaction seemed to rile Theo up even further. “Yes it fucking is,” he gritted out. “He’s flirting with you, Y/N. How can you not see that?”
The accusation of Draco Malfoy flirting with you was entirely laughable. Though you were accustomed to Theo’s overzealous tendencies, you usually didn’t mind his overprotectiveness since it deterred creepy guys from making advances towards you. But this was Draco, for Godric’s sake. You’ve known each other since you were in diapers. There was no way in hell he was actually trying to make a move on you.
“You’re being ridiculous, Teddy. Malfoy was not flirting with me.”
“Of course he was! Did you not see the way he looked at you? The bloody git was all over you, playing with your hair, touching your lips. I should his bash his fucking head in for even glancing in your direction.“
The rest of Theo’s rant was incoherent, a mixture between English and Italian curses that drew the attention of those around you. With a grimace, you tugged Theo towards the back of the Three Broomsticks. He continued swearing as you led him away, dead eyes filled with fury as you ushered him into the bathroom.
There was a murderous expression on his face as he spewed threats and curses. You locked the door behind you, sighing as you surveyed the angry boy before you. Knowing Theo, his constant ranting would only fuel the fire of his anger. You needed to calm him down before he made good on his promise to pummel Draco into the ground.
Unfortunately, Theo had already worked himself up to a fit. A frown was evident on his face, his knuckles turning white as he clenched his fists, the veins on his forearms protruding as violence threatened to spill over. You said his name a few times, but he didn’t seem to hear you. He was too angry to take notice.
While dealing with an angry Theo was by no means a new occurrence for you, it seemed harder to pull him out of it this time. You had never seen him this furious. A small part of you was mad at his overreaction, but another part of you was oddly flattered that he cared so much.
Perhaps it was foolish to do so, but you relished in the fact that such a small action could elicit such a response from him. If you didn’t know any better, you would’ve surmised that Theo was acting out of jealousy. His possessive behavior had always given you a strange sort of thrill. It made you feel wanted, it made you feel desired, and that in itself was more dangerous than any drug.
“Theodore.”
Theo paced back and forth, contemplating acts of violence against one of his oldest and closest friends.
“Theo.”
He wondered how much trouble he’d get into for beating Draco into a bloody pulp. Would they suspend him? Theo reckoned it would be worth it.
“Teddy.”
The sight of Draco brushing foam off of your lips flashed through his mind again, playing on a torturous loop. Malfoy didn’t get to touch you like that. No one got to touch you like that. At least not without Theo breaking every bone in their hand.
“Oh for Salazar’s fucking sake.”
You grabbed the front of Theo’s sweater and dragged him down to your level. There was absolutely no thought process behind your actions besides stopping his rant. With your lips pressed firmly against his, you accomplished just that. Theo froze for a second, his eyes fluttering close as you kissed him. The tension left his body, his anger melting away to give room for a different sort of heat to spread through him.
The minute his body language changed, you pulled away. Theo looked down at you, his dead eyes burning with searing passion. You felt his gaze piercing right through you. There was danger lurking within him. Like he was the predator and you were the prey. You’ve never seen him look like that before. Theo looked…feral. Theo looked hungry.
“I’m sorry, Teddy. I was just trying to calm you down—”
You reeled back as Theo cupped your face in his hands and smashed your lips together once more. This time, there was no surprise in the kiss. There was just fervent passion, arduous desire, and mutual destruction between you. Theo didn’t kiss you like he wanted you. He kissed you like he needed you.
As he pinned you against the wall, Theo gripped your hips and pressed his body against yours. The kisses grew sloppy and desperate, the two of you scrabbling for more. You groaned as his erection brushed against your thigh, leaving him the perfect opening to slide his tongue past the seam of your lips. You were vaguely aware of banging into the pictures on the walls, the sound of them clattering to the ground registering somewhere in the back of your mind.
The two of you were like a tornado, knocking decor and toiletries around as you continued to sloppily make out. You were sure that you were making enough noise to alert the whole tavern. Yet you couldn’t bring yourself to care as Theo bit down on your bottom lip. You moaned into his mouth as he set you down on the counter. One hand gripped your throat while the other slipped underneath your skirt.
Theo dragged you closer by your thighs, wrapping your legs around his waist as he grinded his hardness against your throbbing core.
“Malfoy couldn’t touch you like this, bella.” The low rasp of his voice sent shivers down your spine. His hold on you was possessive and utterly fucking sexy. Heat rushed between your thighs as his fingers tightened around your throat. “Only I can touch you like this. Do you understand, dolcezza?”
“Yes,” you answered breathlessly. “It’s you, Teddy. Only you.”
Pleased with your response, Theo smirked as he ripped off your tights. Your eyes nearly rolled to the back of your head when he rubbed his hand against your clothed sex. He palmed you through your panties, swearing when he felt how wet you were for him.
“You’re fucking mine,” he growled against your ear while he slid your panties to the side and teased along your folds. Slender fingers curled inside of you, eliciting a filthy moan that echoed through the walls. “This is all for me.”
Watercolour eyes seized the breath from your lungs. The declaration hung in the air with finality. There was no room for question or doubt. Theo was merely stating the truth.
You were his. You always have been.
Theo withdrew his hand, fingers dripping with your arousal. He refused to break eye contact as he stuck them into his mouth, licking each digit clean.
You whimpered, pulling him in by his belt loop. He moaned as you impatiently tugged his jeans down, palming him through his boxers. He felt big. Bigger than you’ve ever had before.
But you wanted it. You wanted him.
“I need you, Theo. Please.”
“I’m yours, Y/N.” Theo panted into your mouth as you released his cock from the constraints of his boxers. “Always.”
You swallowed thickly as you looked down at his impressive size. His cock was hard and throbbing in your hands, precum leaking from the tip. Theo was massive. You had no idea how he was going to fit. Still, the challenge thrilled you.
Spreading your legs open, you bit your lip as Theo positioned the head of his cock at your entrance. He kissed your lips sweetly before pulling back and nuzzling his nose against yours.
“Deep breaths, baby.” You nodded, inhaling and exhaling as he pushed the tip in. “You’re so tight. Gonna let me stretch you wide open, bella?”
Tears pricked at your eyes as he breached your walls, stretching you just between the line of pain and pleasure. “You’re so big, Theo. I don't—I don't know if it’s going to fit.”
“We’ll make it fit, Y/N,” he promised, pushing further in and groaning as your walls hugged tightly around him. “Just like that. You’re doing so well, sweetheart.”
Once Theo was fully sheathed inside of you, his movements stilled. He caressed your cheek and pecked your lips. “Can I move, baby?”
“Yes,” you exhaled.
“Good girl.”
You fluttered at his words and Theo cursed as your walls gripped him like a vice. “Fuck, pretty pussy’s squeezing me so tight. You drive me fucking insane, you know that? I get so jealous of anyone who even looks at you.”
“I like when you get jealous,” you admitted, wrapping your legs tighter around his waist. “You’re sexy when you’re angry.”
Theo flipped you over so that you were facing the mirror. As you gripped the marble countertop, he thrusted sharply inside of you and watched as your face contorted into pleasure. Whispering praises into your ear, Theo picked up the pace. He intertwined your fingers together and placed each palm against the mirror.
“Open your eyes, bella. I want you to watch while I ruin you.”
Your eyes snapped to your reflection, taking in your flushed cheeks and mussed hair. Behind you, Theo fucked into you with a punishing pace. He groaned as he watched himself slide in and out of you, relishing at the perfect fit. It was like you were made for him. As your moans grew louder, Theo stuffed his fingers down your throat and gagged you.
“God, fuck.” Theo hissed, his eyes meeting yours in the reflection. “Harder, baby. You can take it. Let me fuck out my frustrations.”
“You. Belong. To. Me.”
Theo punctuated every word with a thrust, hitting the sweet spot within your walls with each rut.
“I’m yours, Teddy.” You said breathlessly. “All yours.”
He smiled, placing a tender kiss against your neck as his fingers slipped between your legs. Theo rubbed at your clit, urging you closer and closer to your orgasm.
“Are you close, principessa? I can feel you squeezing me, milking me dry. Take it all, dolcezza. You’re mine, but I’m yours too.”
“My hands are yours.” Theo squeezed your tits, flicking his thumb over your nipples.
“My lips are yours.” He angled your chin towards him, claiming your mouth with open mouthed kisses.
“My cock is yours.” He drove deeper inside of you, making you arch as you cried out his name.
Theo swallowed your moans before capturing your lips with his. “My heart is yours, too.”
“It’s all yours, Y/N.”
Your heart squeezed at his declaration. Nothing had ever sounded more beautiful than Theo pledging every part of himself to you.
“Oh god. Fuck, Theo. Please. I’m gonna cum.”
“Cum for me, bella.”
Stars dotted your vision as the orgasm rocked through your body. Theo kissed your neck, marking his territory, while you squeezed around him. The heat of his touch seared your skin as he held you. If it weren’t for his strong arms wrapped around you, you would’ve collapsed.
“So fucking perfect,” Theo said between pants. “My beautiful girl.”
Your name tumbled off of Theo’s lips as he came. It was the sweetest sound you’ve ever heard. Coming from the most beautiful boy you’ve ever seen.
The two of you slid down to the floor. Theo wrapped an arm around you, cheeks red and hair disheveled. His pretty eyes fluttered open as he traced over the hickies and bruises he’d left on your body, admiring each mark gently. With his brows scrunched with concern, he brushed a thumb over the bite mark on your shoulder.
“Was I too rough?” Theo whispered, kissing over the spot. “Did I hurt you, Y/N?”
You smiled at his gentleness, smoothing at the worry lines creasing his forehead. “No, it was perfect. God, you're fucking hot when you're jealous.”
Theo chuckled, kissing the inside of your wrist. The playfulness in his expression faltered as concern and hesitation bled through. “Did you—I mean, fuck, did you enjoy it? I didn’t—you still want to be my friend, right?”
“No.”
Theo felt his heart drop down to his stomach. He’d fucked it up. The one good thing in his life and he’d fucked it up. You brushed your fingers over his cheekbones, tilting his chin so that you were face to face.
“I want to be so much more than just your friend, Teddy.” The sigh of relief that he released made you grin. You leaned in, giving him a soft peck on the lips. “My heart is yours, too. It’s always been yours.”
The weight of his smile made your heart ache. “Now that you know how I feel, there’s no need to be jealous anymore.”
“Are you kidding? I’m going to be even more insufferable now. I need everyone to know that you’re mine.”
“They already know, Teddy. We were the only ones living in denial.”
“We made it pretty damn obvious, didn’t we?”
“You threatened every guy who dared to even look at me.”
“Please,” Theo started, a smile tugging at his lips. “I saw the dirty looks you gave to the girls who tried to flirt with me.”
You chuckled. “Okay, so maybe we’re both a little…”
“Possessive? Obsessed? Head over heels insane for each other?”
“All of the above.” You declared, tugging at his hand. “Now come on, Teddy. Before someone figures out what we were really doing in here.”
“I think they know, love.” Theo teased. “You were pretty loud.”
“Like you weren’t loud yourself, Nott.”
You rolled your eyes fondly as he helped you up. Theo straightened your skirt and smoothed your hair down, kissing your temple. He reached for the doorknob with one hand and linked his fingers with yours with the other.
Fortunately, there weren’t too many people waiting for the loo. You would’ve been embarrassed to walk out together hand in hand, but Theo made sure that every set of prying eyes quickly found something else to look at. With a cheeky grin, he lifted your knuckles to his lips and placed a lingering kiss upon your skin.
As you walked out into the main hall, a wolf-whistle rang out from one of the tables. Draco raised a toast in your direction while Blaise shook his head.
“Can’t believe that half-arsed plan of yours actually worked,” Zabini said.
Theo furrowed his brows. “What plan?”
“The one where Malfoy flirts with Y/N in an attempt to make you jealous.”
“I knew you were up to something,” you said with narrowed eyes. “What an idiotic plan.”
“Is it idiotic if it worked?”
Theo shook his head in disbelief. “You’re mental, Malfoy. I truly considered tearing you to pieces.”
“You’re welcome,” Draco said with a smirk. “Clearly that jealousy was put to good use.”
The blonde winked at you, making Theo’s fingers tighten around yours. “Oh, Teddy’s going to kill you. This time, I have no plans of stopping him.”
Draco’s silver eyes widened as you released Theo. “Zabini? A little help here?”
“I’d start running if I were you, Malfoy.”
Without hesitation, Draco bolted out the door. You snickered as the blonde disappeared down the snowy street, his platinum blonde head bobbing through the crowd. To his credit, Theo gave him a proper head start.
“I’ll be right back, dolcezza.”
“Don’t be gone too long, Teddy.” Theo smiled, leaning in to press a soft kiss on your lips. “And try not to hurt Draco too badly, yeah?”
Despite his pout, Theo nodded as you tugged him down for a proper kiss. He smiled against your lips before peppering kisses on your nose and cheeks.
“Fine, but only because you asked nicely, principessa.”
You smiled, watching as Theo chased after Draco. Beside you, Blaise grinned.
“It’s about damn time.”
With a flush, you rolled your eyes at your friend. “Oh shut it, Zabini.”
TAGLIST
@annaisabookworm @marina468 @yaraasthings @the0doreslover @bubybubsters @moony-artemis @natasha887 @lucyysthings @criesinlies @bunnymallowo @niktwazny303 @letmedownslows @siriuslyalovergirl @wordsarelife @clairesjointshurt @daydreamingabthar@moonflowersandsparkles
#jealous theo makes me want to chomp on dry wall <3#theo nott#theodore nott#theo nott x reader#theo nott smut#theo nott x you#theo nott x y/n#theo nott imagine#theodore nott x reader#theodore nott x you#theodore nott smut#theodore nott imagine#theodore nott x y/n
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The Blacks & The Greens
Summary: A marriage of convenience is not enough to bridge the gap between their warring houses. Y/N and Aegon pay the price for his crown. Based off this request.
Aegon Targaryen x Velaryon(Strong)!Reader
18+ ONLY MDNI
Roughish sex, Targcest, angst, depictions of stillbirth.
Y/N and Aegon marry out of convenience. To keep peace, to mend a house broken long before they were born.
Aegon does not mind bedding her, she is pretty enough. He does not mind watching her swell with his heir, he enjoys it even, paying special attention to Y/N as she grows.
“Does it hurt?” He wonders, tracing a little hand or foot across the skin of her abdomen.
“No,” Y/N smiles, passing a hand over his hair.
Aegon kisses her bump, bidding her and his child a good night before making his way down to the pleasure house.
Their first child, a son named Laenor, is Aegon’s pride and joy. His heart swells with something close to love for his wife, the first time he sees bits of her in their son’s features.
Y/N loves Laenor, carrying him about, showing him the Red Keep and all her favorite places in it. Aegon joins them, on occasion, sharing quiet moments with his little family.
Outside of Laenor, they exchange few words. Refusing to share apartments, but Aegon sneaks into her room more often than not, after nights spent in the company of other women.
“I could never fuck you like that.” He tells his wife, words slurred from his cups.
“I would let you.” Y/N assures him.
“You make my heart ache.” Aegon admits, “I hate when you do that.”
“I do not mean to,” Y/N sighs.
Aegon rests a hand over her beating heart. “I know.”
————————————————————————
When asked for another heir, they are more than happy to provide. Exchanging sloppy kisses and sweet words, but never love, it couldn’t be love. Not with the twisted, possessive way of it.
“Beg,” Aegon demands, fucking her roughly enough that air is punched from her lungs with each snap of his hips.
“Please,” Y/N wails, clinging to him desperately.
“Please what?”
“Fill me with your heir, I wish to bear you a hundred children.”
Aegon grins, brushing sweat damp hair from her forehead. “I adore you, you know?”
Her eyes shoot open, meeting his.
“My pretty, bastard wife.”
The princess’s breath hitches, her cunt clenching around him.
“Enjoyed that, did you?”
There is no point in denying it, she likes the way he says it. The way he acknowledges it without insulting her. “Yes.”
“I do not care who sired you. You are mine now, bastard. Mine to fuck and breed. Mine to love, until we are both cold in our graves.”
Love? “Aegon?”
“You heard me well and clear.”
“I love-”
Aegon seals his mouth over hers, swallowing the words. “Don’t you dare say it.”
“Why?” Y/N asks, with big fat tears welling up in her eyes.
“You hold it inside until you burst or pour it over my cock as you milk me, but you do not say it.” Aegon sneers. He couldn’t be loved, he wouldn’t be, by her least of all.
The princess nods, allowing him to cradle her head against his shoulder. Whispering those forbidden words over and over, while she is never allowed to speak them. Her heart aches.
Like every other aspect of their marriage, this too is complicated.
————————————————————————-
Y/N’s term is nearing its end when her grandsire passes and Aegon is forced to usurp her mother’s throne. With blood running down her legs before Aegon is crowned in the dragon pit, she is rushed swiftly away to labor in her chambers.
Now that Aegon is king, he is allowed at her side without contest. Watching as their second child is brought into the world. The babe does not cry, something inside him knows….
The grand Maester is called to work on the child, a sweet little girl with silver hair.
Y/N begins pushing with the second, her tear stained face pleading for him.
Aegon goes to her, because that is all he knows how to do. He goes to her and holds her hand.
“Aegon,” she cries.
“Shhhh,” he hushes her.
“Will the babe live?”
He presses a kiss to her forehead, “I need you to calm yourself, dearest.”
“I can’t.”
“We must focus on this babe,” Aegon brushes a hand over her belly. “They need their mother to provide them safe passage into the world.”
“I want to see her.” Y/N cries, searching for her child.
“I am so sorry, sweetheart.” Aegon says, “so terribly sorry.”
Y/N bares down, sobbing as she does. The child is safe within her, the same cannot be said after it enters this cruel world. “I do not want to lose my child.”
“I will give you another,” Aegon promises, knowing that a thousand children can never make up for the one they’ve lost. “As many as you wish. Please, allow me to get you through this. You must live, our son needs you, I need you.”
“You must keep pushing my queen.”
Y/N brings her third child into the world, expecting the worst. But the little girl cries.
“Thank the gods,” Aegon lets his head fall against his wife’s chest. “Thank the gods.”
The child is laid against her.
“Healthy?”
“Kicking like a goat, my Queen.”
Aegon looks to his wife, their perfect babe in her arms. “I love you.”
Y/N nods, choking on her grief and joy and love for him.
“Say it, my heart.” Aegon feels it on the tip of her tongue, “it’s alright.”
“I love you,” Y/N laments, “I love you and I’m sorry.”
“You’ve nothing to apologize for.”
“Our babe-”
“None of this is your fault. Please know that.”
Y/N nods, not entirely convinced.
The King and Queen spend days in that bed, mourning their loss, unaware of Rhaenyra’s similar suffering across the sea.
There is no war so hateful as a war between kin, they will all pay the price for it; the Blacks and the Greens.
#house of the dragon#aegon targaryen x you#hotd smut#aegon targaryen x reader#aegon targaryen#hotd aegon#aegon targaryen smut#aegon smut#aegon ii#aegon imagine
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Ex-Husband Gojo
artist: yunonoai on twt
Synopsis: Gojo as ur ex-husband trying to win you back („• ᴗ •„)
Pairing: Gojo x Fem!Reader Content: no use of y/n nor mentions of readers appearance, THERES PLOT IN THIS ONE!! Mentions of pregnancy and getting back together again, seducing(?), fingering, spanking ONCE, reader gets folded like a chair, multiple orgasms, cream pie, aftercare(?)
(a.n) underlined text is a link incase u need a picture of the position :>
MDNI
You could never hate Gojo, even if you had been divorced for a year- pretending to barely tolerate him when you saw him.
But you knew in your marrow- you could never hate him. The only man in your life for the past 7 years, father of your child, and provider of anything you could ask for.
The divorce didn’t even affect Gojo- even as he was signing the papers, he still looked at you like you hung the moon and the stars.
“Give my wife whatever she wants.” he directed his divorce lawyer, earning an exasperated sigh from your lips.
Everything your own lawyer asked for, he shrugged.
The house? “Take it.” he scoffed, looking at you with all the love in the world.
Child support? He didn’t even blink. Satoru offered to give you money every month. As long as you didn’t work and stayed at home to care for his son.
Forget the cars or the cabin in the mountains you would go to in the winter to ski. None of that bothered Satoru. He would give you whatever you requested as long as it made you happy.
It only made your head pulse- the way the divorce lawyers were looking at you like you were some kind of horrible villain. Divorcing a seemingly loving husband who would give you anything and everything you asked for.
That was until you asked for sole custody of your child, knowing he barely had time when you were married; how would he find the time as a single father?
“No,” he said sternly, in a deeper tone—now taking this seriously. “50-50, or nothing.” he threatened, a dark aura looming over his figure as you caved.
You asked for a divorce, not because he never gave you enough— that was never the problem. Gojo loved giving and had more than enough to offer, especially to his wife and child.
The issue was, two years into marriage, he knocked you up. It wasn’t a problem though. Married, old enough, and stable enough to welcome a child into the world.
Satoru was present a lot more for those 9 months you were growing his child. Ignoring the responsibilities of his demanding job.
Nine months of pure bliss. Moving into a house, painting your child’s nursery together. Shopping for clothes, going through Satoru’s unbelievably long list of baby names- 90% of which you said ‘no’ to.
The two years before you were pregnant, you were aware of how demanding Gojo’s job really was. You knew he would be gone more often than he was present.
And it didn't bother you. If it made Satoru happy and he still returned to you at the end of the day- you didn't mind.
But during those nine months of growing his child, you thought the rest of your lives together would be the same. You thought he would be present more often than not.
And when you were pushing his big-headed child into the world, it was almost like a switch flipped in Satoru’s mind. As though he looked down to the child that was undeniably his, lily white hair—the same shade as his, and bright blue eyes, just like his father's. Gojo saw the future in the boy he held in his hands.
Gojo never told you, but that day, he realized he had to work harder, to give you and his son the best lives you could have.
He distanced himself, making sure to leave as much space between you and his work as he could. This led to you wondering if he just didn’t find you attractive anymore, or if the domestic cookie-cutter life wasn’t enough for him.
Had he told you the truth- maybe the divorce would have been avoidable. But Satoru saw this divorce settlement as you throwing a fit.
Deep down, it hurt him. It pained his heart even thinking that you would consider leaving him, but he allowed you to sign those papers.
It only meant he would have to make you fall in love with him all over again.
You scoffed at his demand of 50-50 custody, knowing you saw him two nights a week when you were married. Not even being able to fathom how he could handle having your son 50% of the time.
But Satoru surprised you in that area. Always being on time to pick up his kid from your doorstep, giving you a big hug every time he would see you. Even kissing your forehead when he would leave.
You didn’t think anything of it- he invested so much of himself in your marriage; it was instinct by now.
But when you’d be at the park with them, watching him hold the little hand of the mini Gojo that looked identical to him. Smiling with a soft warmth, Satoru may have always run out of time- constantly. But it was undeniable that he was a fantastic father.
When he ran into an acquaintance from work, he still introduced you as his lovely wife. So often that you stopped correcting him, knowing he would only start complaining if you did.
Even if the law saw you as a single mom. Technically, divorced and with a 5-year-old toddler on your hip.
Satoru still looked at you and saw his wife. Mother of his child, homemaker, and the only person that helped him heal- the person who gave him the privilege of being a father.
In his eyes, you were still his. Didn’t matter if you were divorced or not; the marriage dynamic was still present between you two.
Of the two of you, Satoru was the one who was least embarrassed about the little slip-ups. Late nights after you put your toddler down to sleep, wine glasses in hand as you recalled memories from married life.
9 out of 10 times, it always ended with Satoru’s lips crashing into yours, greedily slotting his tongue past your lips as his hands pulled you to straddle his thighs.
Nights ending with being cuddled up together, undressed and on the bed you didn’t replace when he moved out. And mornings being awakened by the smell of pancakes coming from the kitchen.
Walking down the stairs with puffy eyes, “Your mama always sleep in this late?” you heard Satoru speak from the kitchen, followed by a little laugh your son chimed.
Nodding your head disapprovingly with a smile, watching your child pull Satoru’s ear to his lips, letting out a small ‘tsk’ at what his child whispered into his ear.
The sight was always heartwarming, knowing things could’ve been like this all the time if things were different.
And every afternoon, when Satoru would practically be forced out of the house- came the talk of “This can’t happen again. It’s confusing for him-” Only for Satoru to kiss your cheek.
“Won’t happen again.” he would smile, knowing that declaration was a mere tool to end conversations like these. Knowing as long as you allowed it- mornings like these would keep happening.
There was still a lot- almost too much love, between you and Satoru. You knew this couldn’t continue, branching out and thinking of ways to not be so involved. Being all too aware of the fact that, for the past 7 years, your life has only been your husband and your son.
Ex-Husband.
That only proved your point- Satoru slowly started embedding the idea of calling him your husband again, that even in your own mind you still referred to him as such.
You knew it wasn’t the right thing to do. To continue entertaining the potential of getting together again. You considered it at first, if he was such a changed man and all he needed was to be reminded of what he lost to change his ways, would it be so bad to get back together?
But the slip-ups and nights shared together in each other's arms were too good to be true.
You feared that the same thing would happen if you allowed him fully into your life again. He would show you the best parts of him at first, then go back to neglecting his responsibilities to you and his child.
So when you asked Gojo to babysit for one evening. Instead of asking you why, he asked his 5-year-old son. Who came running up to him, pulling Satoru's hair to whisper another secret into his ear- barely legible and full of amused giggles: “Mommy has a date.”
Satoru must’ve heard wrong- it almost sounded like his son said you- his wife, had a date with someone other than him.
He tried getting more information out of his son, playfully asking who, where, and why. But the little man only scoffed, saying that you only said you had a date, and that’s why Dad had to watch him that evening.
And on the day of, Satoru showed up at your doorstep looking offensively good. Fresh haircut and his hair half dry, a white t-shirt that was entirely too tight, and gray sweats- with nothing under them (slut). And to top it all off, your favorite cologne spritzed onto his chest.
You opened your front door- you furrowed your eyebrows in disbelief, eyeing the man before you. You hated when he would purposefully show up on your doorstep looking fucking scrumptious. It was too tempting.
And as he always does- he pulls you into a rib-crushing hug, ensuring you get a face full of his scent. Kissing the top of your head as you loosely wrapped your arms around his waist. “You look gorgeous,” he murmured against your scalp, pulling away from him and scoffing.
Walking back into the entryway of your house, hearing him step behind you and close the door- “I thought I told you to come at 7.” you muttered, trying to shake off the invading thoughts of the apparent print in his sweats.
“I wanted to see you before you left.” Satoru mumbled behind you, following you up the stairs of his house and listening to the TV playing your child’s favorite cartoon.
You only hummed in response to the excuse as to why he was here a whole 2 hours before you were to leave.
While you were showering, Gojo sat on the couch supervising his son, who was asking any question that popped into the little man’s mind. Questions the child would ask you, but refuse to think you were telling the truth. So he would ask his Dad, and believe him instead.
You found it frustrating that your child believed Satoru more than he believed you- but endearing that he would always run things by his father.
All the while, answering the little questions his toddler asked- Satoru wondered if you still had that bad habit of leaving the bathroom door unlocked while you showered.
But Satoru knew he had to take a more subtle approach to the delicate situation at hand.
As he heard the sound of the shower halting- thanking the noisy plumbing the house had. It always let him know you were stepping out of the shower from wherever he was in the house.
He rose from the couch and grabbed his child from the floor. “Let’s go see what mommy’s doing.” Gojo smiled as he hooked his hands beneath his child's arms, hearing happy laughter from the little human in his hands as he ran up the stairs.
Satoru always liked watching you get dressed, even if it was to go see another man. He enjoyed watching the care you put into your appearance.
He walked into the humid restroom, his eyes catching the half-way-done zipper of your dress. “Zip me,” you murmured, looking into the mirror as you applied your makeup.
Satoru placed his child on the ground and walked up behind you, his eyes catching the clasp of your lace undergarment. He furrowed his eyebrows, realizing it was one he hadn't seen before.
He lightly placed his hand on your hip, his face too close to your shoulder, as his fingers slowly worked up the zipper. Gojo’s thumb caressed your clothed hip, giving you a light squeeze before letting go of the zipper.
Pressing your thighs together slightly and trying to ignore the warmth of his hand.
So as he sat on the edge of the bathtub, his child bouncing on his lap, watching you with an adoring gaze, enjoying the angle he had of you slightly bent over the sink. “Where’d you say you were going again?” squinting his eyes as you swiped away any misplaced makeup on your cheek.
“Out.” you scoffed, knowing if you told him the truth he would only start whining at you.
So he flashed his eyes to his son, “Do you know?” he whispered, watching his son hold back a laugh as you rolled your eyes.
As much as you disliked being the bad cop in most parenting scenarios, your child always took his side- always told him the truth when he’d ask.
“Mommy has a date.” he giggled, only for you to look to your side and squint your eyes, “Traitor.” you murmured, watching Satoru’s jaw fall in feigned shock.
“A date?” he pursed his lips, looking at you sadly. “You asked me to watch my child to go on a date?” his tone was full of sarcasm, watching you nod your head ‘no’ as you looked back into the mirror.
“It’s just dinner-” you muttered, trying to avoid his harsh gaze on your profile. “Besides, I’m sure you have your fair share of them.”
Satoru gasped your name, placing his hands on either side of his child’s head and covering his ears.
“You accuse me of cheating in front of our child? I only have room for one woman in my heart.” he scoffed, placing a hand onto his chest- almost as though he found offense in knowing you could- but he never would.
“It’s not cheating, we aren’t married anymore.”
He pulled his hands from his child’s ears, eye twitching at your declaration. “Who is he?” he asked, tone more severe as his child played with his hands. You sighed, “I have a right to know-” he started- earning for you to look at him with an irritated expression.
“Just a parent from his school.”
Satoru squinted his eyes. He knew he couldn’t ask you to homeschool his child- ‘socialization’ and all that. But now, Satoru had to worry about you being pawed at while dropping off his son at kindergarten.
In some attempts to not show he was starting to get pissed off, “If you were into single dads- you have one right here~” Gojo grinned, watching the grimace on your face churn from his attempt at flirting.
“That’s not it, but thank you for that.” you scoffed, curling your eyelashes and feeling his eyes pierce your skin.
“So what is it?” he hummed, wanting to know what this man had that he didn’t.
With a sigh you rolled your eyes, hearing your child slide off his lap and patter out of the bathroom. “I don't wanna talk about this anymore.” you muttered, sensing Satoru rise from the tub's edge and shift behind you, placing his hands around your waist and resting his chin on your shoulder.
“I wanna know who you’re replacin’ me with,” he whined in your ear, causing you to scoff and look down to the sink.
You were used to Satoru clinging to you- showing his affection to you even if you weren’t together anymore.
Satoru pressed his hips onto your slightly bent bottom, his lips barely grazing your ear, “If this is about your needs- I’m here for that too, y’know.” he whispered into your ear. Making sure you could feel his print against your bottom as he pressed himself closer to you.
Your breathing increased slightly, parting your lips as his hands around your waist squeezed you tighter. “You don’t have to look for anyone else-” he whispered, lips pressing onto the shell of your ear as you closed your eyes.
“I’m here whenever you need me,”
Mentally battling the temptation with every whisper into your ear, his breathing grazing your skin, causing goosebumps to rise to the surface.
Satoru was about to murmur another temptation into your ear. Until your child's crying voice echoed through the bathroom walls. Rushing out of the bathroom and finding your son on the ground of your bedroom- Tiny droplets of blood oozed from his little knee, with fat tears leaving his blue eyes.
Satoru wasted no time scooping up the crying child from the ground, hushing him with small assurances that it was okay.
Though it was only a scrape- it was enough for Satoru to convince you to call up this, ‘Fellow parent from school’ and tell him you had to cancel. Setting no reschedule day as Gojo purposefully called out to you- “Honey, where are the band-aid’s?~”
And with that, Satoru got what he wanted. Your date was canceled, and the man backed off.
After too many treats and much-needed coddling from his father, your son dozed off in Gojo’s arms as he walked up the stairs, exhausted from the sobbing. Placing him onto the little race car bed he built- recalling the day Satoru helped you paint the bedroom.
You settled onto the living room couches and thanked him for being here. “M’sorry if you had any plans.” You sighed, looking at the well-favored man before you.
Gojo scoffed, “No plans are more important than you.” with a slight smile on his lips.
“And your son.” you clarified with a warm grin.
Satoru looked down at your hands. “And my son.” He repeated your words, reaching for your hands and holding them in his. Scooching the tiniest bit closer to you, “Thank you,” he muttered, caressing the backs of your hands with his thumbs.
“For what?” looking at him adoringly.
Gojo blinked his eyes as he engulfed the sight of your expression. Looking back at him with the same look you had when you were still married. “For bein’ a good mom,” he whispered, slowly inching closer to you.
“-nd a good wife,” he whispered, watching your eyebrows furrow at the proclamation, cheeks tingling from hearing him call you that. Parting his lips as you leaned in closer to him.
The corner of his lips curled up ever so slightly, “Why did we ever get divorced, hmm?” he whispered, darting his gaze from your eyes down to your lips. Trying to recall the last time he tasted you- finding it offensive that he couldn’t even remember.
You gulped slightly, watching his eyes go half-lidded as he leaned closer to you. You blinked your eyes closed- feeling the last of your reservations dissolve in your mind as you pressed your lips against his.
Satoru’s eyes half-lidded as he watched your eyebrows pinch up- letting go of your hands as he traced his fingertips up your arms. Lightly swiping his tongue against your bottom lip, parting your mouth to grant him entry.
Your hands making their way to his torso- feeling the thin fabric of his shirt beneath your fingers. Sighing as his tongue pressed against yours, his hands trailing to your back.
Pulling you closer to him as his fingers reached the zipper of your dress. Soft hums of appeasement rumbling onto his tongue. Tugging down the zipper slowly as your hands found the bottom of his shirt, tracing your hands beneath the fabric.
Your fingers grasping against his carved torso desperately, your thumb lightly caressing his happy trail. His hands slipped past the opening of your dress- sprawling against your back.
You pulled away- looking into his eyes. His cheeks flushed and lips puffy. “We can’t-” you breathed, hoping he would have the strength to put a halt to this. You swallowed- mouthing another ‘we can't.’ before pressing your lips onto his again.
Letting a soft moan slip your lips as he pulled the top of your dress down- feeling the light grazes of his fingers against your skin. Placing his hand on your side, sliding up your torso and cupping the underside of your laced breast.
Feeling a twinge of anger once he felt it was a bralette- only a thin layer of lace separating his hand from your soft skin. Even more when he remembered why you would be wearing this.
Tracing his thumb over the little peak beneath the lace, giving it a soft swipe. Earning a light hum to leave your lips onto his.
And to check- just to be sure he wasn’t getting mad over nothing; Satoru pulled his lips from yours. Placing damp kisses onto your cheek. Peppering them down your neck, soft sighs and moans leaving your lips were heard as hymns to Satoru’s ears.
Making sure to pay extra attention to your collarbone, taking a few seconds to suck harshly on the skin. Even if you didn’t wear your wedding ring anymore- this was his way of showing any other men that you were claimed- that you were his.
His hands shifted your hips to sit correctly on the couch, slumped with your dress bunched on your thighs. Satoru trailed wet kisses to the swell of your breast, lightly pressing his tongue onto your laced nipple and swirling against the fabric, coaxing a light moan to fall from your lips.
Though your eyes were closed, Satoru's grip on your waist told you that he was furious. Had you opened them, you would have seen his jealous eyes looking back at you.
Satoru hoped he was wrong- hoped you wouldn’t do this to him. All but praying he wouldn’t have to do what he had to if he was right.
His hands hooked onto the bunched-up fabric of your dress, shifting it down your thighs and pulling it from your body entirely before he pulled his lips from your tummy.
Looking down at the matching lace panties- soaked as they were, he had never seen them. Gojo’s eye twitched as he looked back up to you, unwilling to come to the fact that you bought- and wore this for another man.
Satoru liked thinking he was a patient person, calm and collected when he had to be. But the way he rose himself from the ground, manhandling you to flip over and bend your knees on the couch, made him realize he held no more patience for you nor your attempts to make him jealous.
Your hands held onto the back of the couch firmly, keeping yourself up as Satoru’s hands landed on your hips. Groping the malleable skin as you whimpered, pressing your bottom back to the growing erection in his sweats.
“You wore this for him?” he mumbled behind you, slipping his thumb beneath the thin band of lace. Exhaling, feeling yourself soak your panties even further.
You bit your lip, looking down at your hands in shame- knowing whatever you said now would only make him more bitter.
Murmuring something- quiet enough for Satoru not to comprehend. He huffed a smile, “What was that?” he teased, pressing his bulge against your bent bottom, pushing you further against the wall.
“Tell the truth.”
You looked back slightly, peering at the crazed man behind you. Biting your lip and facing the wall, “I did.”
As a reward for your honesty, Satoru gave you a firm spank against your bottom. Causing you to jolt forward with a soft whimper.
“You’re that needy?” Gojo teased, caressing the warm skin of your bottom, soothing the sting. “That you have to cheat on me?” you exhaled- not wanting to admit how attractive it was that he was scolding you for something he shouldn’t be.
Taking his hands from your hips and hooking them onto the sides of your panties, slipping them down your hips to be greeted with your soaked cunt. Glistening with the taste he craved from the minute he moved out.
But even if his mouth watered looking down to your core, he couldn’t bring himself to kneel before you- knowing if he let things go your way, this little farce of divorce would stay in your mind.
No, he had to teach you a lesson, even if he had to pound it into your foolish brain that you were his.
So as the tips of his fingers grazed your soaked lips- avoiding the bundle of nerves that he was sure was throbbing from how wet you were.
Circling the tips of his ring and middle finger on your entrance as you let out breathless whines. “I just missed you,” whimpering as you reached a hand back to the one that held your hip in place.
The words enticed Gojo to dip the very tips of his fingers into your cunt- “Didn’t wanna tell you.” you moaned, admitting the truth he had been wanting to hear for far too long.
Closing your eyes as he slowly inched his fingers into you. Satoru smiled, feeling your walls welcome him in, too tight to have been recently fucked. So he knew you must be telling the truth.
Grasping onto his hand, the tips of his fingers prodding into the spot he quickly found every time.
Your hand that held you up trembling as he lightly curled his fingers. Letting out breathy moans, earning Satoru to smile to himself, “Who knows how to please you like me, hm?” he let out the thoughts from his lips without permission.
You whined as he pumped his fingers into you with a slow ease. Whimpering softly as he watched with dim eyes. “Who else but me?” he pressed, feeling your grip against his hand tighten.
“Need you inside ‘toru-” you whined, the hand holding you up gripping the edge of the couch violently.
Gojo remembered the last time you called him that- biting his lip from the nickname you used to call him when you were still married. And you must’ve known how his mind reels whenever you called him that- or else why would you say it in that tone?
All but begging for his cock with every light spasm your cunt did around his fingers.
Satoru was pleased with how pliant you were in his hands, satisfied enough to pull his fingers from your cunt. Quickly removing his shirt before placing his messied hand over his sweats, softly palming himself as he looked at your core-
Gojo was so sure at that moment- that there was no god- the closest thing to it was what lied between your legs. Pulsing- begging for him to bully his pained cock into it.
He pulled his hand from his bulge, shoving down the loose band of his sweats and freeing his cock. And as you suspected- no briefs.
Placing a hand onto his base and lightly tapping his leaky tip onto your ass, causing you to whine.
Gojo started thinking about how he wanted you- now that you were compliant and needy before him.
He backed away in the slightest. Kicking off his sweats before moving you to lie back onto the couch. Settling his hips between your thighs. Soaking up the desperate expression you wore as small whimpers left your lips.
The tip of his cock sliding up and down your cunt- refusing to give you what you ached for.
His forearms held his torso up as your hands latched behind his neck- legs spread and waiting for him to plunge himself into you. Only Satoru looked into your bleary eyes with a smile, “You wan’me inside?” he huffed- watching your bottom lip quiver, lowering himself close enough for your lips to brush against his.
“Tell me 'nd I will.” he grinned against you- watching your eyes close, trying not to cave to his demands. Biting your lip as he pressed his tip against your entrance- teasing you in the slightest.
You breathed a light whimper, blinking your eyes open and staring into his power-crazed ones. “Please-” you whined, “Put it inside ‘toru.” the tone you took only made Gojo’s ego boost- smiling with parted lips as he slowly pressed past your entrance.
A light whimper rumbled from his flushed lips as your hands pulled his neck closer, pressing your lips onto his. Breathing in every whimper, he exhaled onto your tongue as he eased himself into you.
Being able to feel that you hadn’t fucked anyone recently- That you were faithful to him. And this was all just an attempt to rile him up, which only made him even more eager to burrow himself into you further, ‘You’ve been good. That’s what you deserve,’ he thought as his tongue danced with yours.
The light sting from the stretch makes you huff out a pained whimper- inching himself deeper till his hips were flush to your thighs. His tip easily found the sweet spot he seemingly had exact coordinates to.
Satoru placed his hands on your hips, slowly raising himself with your legs locked on his waist. Holding onto your back as you lightly ground your hips flush against his.
A lazy, sloppy version of a lotus position, pulling away from his lips as you trailed a hand to his hair. Looking into his hazy eyes as his hand assisted your hips.
Small moans leaving your throat as your lips brushed against his. Not even attempting to kiss him, knowing you wouldn’t be able to keep a pattern from how deep he was hitting inside of you.
A light sheen of sweat coating your forehead as Gojo relished the look in your eyes- just fucked out enough to let the mask slip. Looking at him with love-filled eyes, your bottom lip quivering as your head threatened to tip back.
Your nose scrunched lightly, neck curving back with a low groan. Not wanting to leave space between you- Satoru placed his lips onto your exposed neck, humming muffled whimpers against your skin as your bottom lip trembled.
Words forming on the tip of your tongue as you ground your cunt against him. The position so full of intimacy, it made you forget you were doing this with your ex-husband.
Puffing out a light breath, smile forming at the corner of your lips- sinking into the mouthwatering pleasure you incited with every small thrust.
“Fuck, I love you.” you moaned mindlessly. But the words rang through Satoru’s ears like church bells, words he hadn’t heard in far too long- even in the past slip-ups. You always held your tongue, making sure to not plant that seed in his mind.
Gojo almost came when he heard your proclamation, inching you back with his lips attached to your neck. Easing your back onto the arm of the couch, planting a foot onto the ground as your hands kept a tight grip on his neck. Satoru dragged his hips from yours with a loud schlop coming from between your legs.
Pulling his lips from your neck, he looked at your expression—pinched eyebrows and eyes shut tight- showing him you were close. So close, he could hear it in your sighs of content.
Satoru leaned down to your ear, huffing a warm breath against your cartilage. Shoving his cock back into you- bottoming out too quickly, earning a whine from your lips. Wasting no time before repeating the movement. Setting a speedy pace with a low whimper.
Sliding your hands up his forearms, landing on his biceps as he quickened the pace- riding himself up an orgasm.
“Lemme make you a mama again-” he huffed into your ear, his tip nudging your sensitive spot with every thrust- you moaned his name in response, so close your brain would have short-circuited had you tried answering.
Satoru grunted with a smile, thinking of the words he was about to say. “Marry-” he groaned, feeling your cunt suck him in with every pull he did, “me again.” he whimpered, his thrusts pushing you up further.
Taking a long lick at your ear- urging you to answer him. Pulling away from your neck, placing his hand on your jaw lightly. “Huh?” Satoru grinned. “Marry me again baby.” Watching your eyes crack open- bearing your teeth softly as you felt the warmth in your tummy over fill.
Pressing his parted lips to yours sloppily- pulling away, and watching your eyes threaten to roll back. You started nodding your head ‘yes’ in his hand frantically- your walls flexing around his speedy cock as he felt you come undone.
Your nodding agreement was all Satoru needed to lose the rhythm of his thrusts. Sloppily pushing into your clenching cunt, his whining muffled by his bottom lip being tucked between his teeth.
Your lips started babbling soundless pleads- ‘please, please,’ and to Satoru’s ears- you were begging for him to fill you. Fill you till he didn’t have anymore to give.
And as a loving and obedient husband- that’s what he did.
With one loud grunt- he spilled himself into you- his thrusts slowing, not as long strides, but he made sure to push his seed deeper into you. Keeping that declaration of making you a mom again.
A low whine left your lips, feeling his warm spend coat your walls with every twitch his cock made inside of you.
So full, you were sure his proclamation would come true. And he came a lot- as though he was saving it up just for you.
Heavily breathing as he slowed his thrusts, pressing his forehead to your temple. Trying to catch his breath as he came down, feeling your heartbeat against his own chest- racing and pounding against his sternum.
Soft kisses planted on your face, your hands easing their grip on his sides. Satoru's hands slid down to your hips, raising himself to his knees and looking down to where you were still connected.
A low gulp bobbing in his throat, knowing he would have to pull out eventually; And dreading it. Thinking of a million ways to keep you filled and plugged with his future offspring.
And as you finally could steady your breathing, Gojo yanked you down from the arm of the couch. Back landing flush against the cushions with a soft grunt. Looking at him, all but asking what he was doing.
Till Satoru pulled himself out of you, hoisting your hips up from the couch with two strong hands. “Sator-” you tried saying, only for his arms to hug the crease of your thighs, bending you in half with your legs flailing in the air.
All the pressure was placed onto your shoulders as Satoru latched his mouth onto your messied clit. Keeping his eyes parted and watching your expression churn. Placing a hand onto his forearm- bracing as he greedily lapped at your neglected clit.
Mentally- this was to give his seed a better chance of taking. Hips in the air- all of the cum he had just pumped into you had nowhere else to go but deeper inside of you. And to also get a taste of you- even if remnants of his cum mixed with it. Satoru didn’t care, as long as he got to taste you.
Huffing out all the air you could, puffs laced with moans. Your hands gripping harshly onto Gojo's forearm, leaving minor crescent-shaped marks on his skin from your nails.
Basically folded in half, your hips started writhing in his grasp- overstimulation creeping up your spine from his vigorous tongue.
Spasming in his hands- trying to warm you were close, but it only came out as more ragged whimpers. Clenching your teeth with your eyes shut tight- unable to see the starved expression looking at you as Gojo unraveled you.
And once Gojo felt your clit tremble between his lips- he knew it was too soon to let you back down; he needed to keep your hips aimed up as long as he could.
Satoru watched your bottom lip tremble as he continued the movement with his tongue. Your hips trying to shimmy from his grasp- but he held you up with two strong arms that had a mission.
Abusing your overwhelmed clit as your eyes screwed together tighter- white spots infiltrating your closed vision with desperate moans. The top of your head bumped into the arm of the couch as he pushed you into a firmer bend.
Your entrance squelched against his chin as he pulled another orgasm from you- more ragged whimpers littered with his name falling from your lips.
You huffed- feeling his mouth go unbothered from the third orgasm he had given you. “Please ‘toru-” you whimpered, cracking your eyes open and looking at the crazed man holding your hips. Satoru pulled his lips from your cunt- looking at you with a smile.
Half his face soiled with your arousal and a glimmer of his seed on his chin. “Just one more-” he egged on, looking at you with dazed eyes. “Jus’onemor-” he cut himself off by placing his lips back onto your clit.
You only sighed a whimper, allowing him to get his fill.
Satoru lapped at your puffy clit, his eyebrows pinching together as his cock sent signals to his mind- the same signals that he was close to an orgasm. Untouched and so close just from pleasing you- from hearing your pretty sounds.
Gojo started to whimper lightly- whimpers that vibrated against your cunt and caused your moans to slur into higher-pitched puffs of air- trying to pull through another orgasm. Taking your lip between your teeth with harshly pinched eyebrows, puffing through your nose with muffled whines.
He closed his eyes- feeling the knot formed in his tummy snap as your knuckles turned a lighter shade, just from how hard you clawed at his forearm. Feeling a warm spurt onto your bent spine as you tried to focus on cumming.
It took very little time for Satoru to gift you a fourth orgasm, a small tear falling from your closed eye as you aimlessly shifted in his grasp.
Satoru sloppily licked at your cunt- cleaning up the mess on your clit with a softer tongue, parting his eyes and looking at your expression. Slowly easing his grasp on your hips as he unfolded you, placing one last kiss onto your cunt, earning a spasm from your hips.
He eased your hips back down onto the couch, watching your fucked out expression breathe in as much air as you could- trying to catch your breath.
Uncaring if the mess he spurt onto your back messied the couch- you always complained about how ugly it was anyway.
He lazily laid himself atop you- placing the side of his face on your collarbone as your hands rested on his shoulders, rubbing small circles on his skin. Grunting softly from how easily he laid his entire body weight on yours.
You parted your eyes, trying to blink away the post-orgasm haze. Even if you had showered a few hours ago- Satoru’s bath offer sounded like heaven.
It seemed to take no longer than a few slow blinks. Easing into the clawfoot bathtub Satoru chose specifically for times like these when he bought the house.
Sighing softly as his arms held you close, his palm gently sprawled against your lower belly and your back pressed to his chest. Avoiding the conversation that needed to be spoken about.
Knowing it would never be spoken if you shoved it off, jettisoned aside to be talked about later.
“Satoru?” you hummed, placing the back of your head onto his chest.
He sighed, closing his eyes and nodding his head 'no'. “I don’t wanna talk about that right now.” he huffed, feeling your hand clasp his beneath the water. Interlocking your fingers with his and closing your eyes.
“If we don’t talk about it now, we never will.”
Satoru smiled. “Then let’s never talk about it~” he scoffed.
You furrowed your eyebrows, trying to make sense of the meaningless words he babbled into your ear earlier. “You really wanna marry me again?” you asked- unsure if they were just words he mindlessly spouted at the moment- or if they had any meaning.
He scoffed, “What kind of question is that?”
Inhaling as though you were about to speak- “Course I wanna marry you again,” he hummed. Rubbing your belly softly, “nd make you a mom again.”
Pulling his hand from your tummy with a scoff, causing small ripples in the water. “Be serious.”
“You have no idea how serious I’m being right now.”
Your lips pulled to the side, mulling over his proclamation.
“You still love me?” he asked, looking down at the side of your face.
Turning your neck slightly, you peered your eyes up at him with sincerity filling them. Furrowing your eyebrows, you tried not to admit it, but- “Of course I still love you, ‘toru.” You mumbled. Heartfelt words that rang true in your heart.
“I don’t think I’ll ever stop loving you.”
“Then marry me.” he whirred, watching your hand pull his left one up from the water. Your eyes admiring the wedding band he hadn’t taken off.
You stayed silent, holding his ringed hand in yours. Satoru would be lying if he said seeing your ring finger empty didn't hurt.
Your silence gave Gojo his answer, “Why not?” he whispered, hearing a ragged sigh from your lips. “I still love you- you. You still love me-”
“M’scared.” you mumbled. Feeling your shoulders tense against his chest with a small ripple in the water.
Satoru let out a half-laugh from his chest. “Of what? I’ve been good, haven’t I?” he grinned, his playful tone invading your ears.
“You were good when I was pregnant too.” you quipped, dropping his hand into the water and recalling the days he started slipping through your grasp.
You sniffled lightly, “nd look what happened.”
Satoru bit his tongue. Knowing if he started defending his baseless actions, this would end up being a fight.
“I spent so long wondering if it was me- if I was the problem.” you scoffed. “I don’t want to let you back in just for the same thing to happen.”
Satoru pulled you closer with a sigh, “It won’t happen again.” he whispered into your ear, “I promise.”
You huffed air from your nose, making Satoru think you didn’t believe him. “I’ll even write it into my vows this time.”
A small laugh left your lips, “You won’t miss single life too much?” you played, feeling his head rest against yours.
“Not once have I felt single since you signed those papers.” he grinned.
You pondered his offer, pretending to actually consider the option before you.
Satoru softly kissed your ear, “C’mon- I’ll be such a good husband~” he whispered.
It wasn’t as though you ever really felt single either- That one year spent apart was still full of love and a marital dynamic.
The rest of the night was spent in the same bed Satoru built after you moved into the house, cuddled up just the way you had longed for since he moved out.
The following day, Satoru couldn’t wait for his son to fully wake up- he walked into the hazy child's bedroom and asked if he wanted a little brother or sister.
All smiles and beaming eyes in the kitchen- telling his son that his plan worked. He made you fall in love with him, and he was finally your husband again.
And as you watched your husband and your son giggle with each other in the kitchen, you smiled. Warm cheeks from the thought that Satoru actually thought you stopped loving him at some point.
But then again, you never really fell out of love, did you?
-
I loved writing this sm.
#jjk smut#jujutsu kaisen smut#jjk x reader#jjk x y/n#gojo smut#jujutsu kaisen x reader#gojo x reader#gojo satoru#gojo satoru smut#gojo satoru x reader#gojou x reader#gojo saturo#gojou satoru x reader#satoru gojo#jjk gojo#jujutsu gojo#gojo x y/n#gojo x you#gojo satoru fic#jjk satoru#jujutsu kaisen satoru#satoru smut#satorugojo#jujutsu satoru#gojou satoru x you#gojou satoru x y/n#gojo x chubby reader
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Old Man (Wolverine/Logan Howlett x Reader)
MASTERLIST
Pairing: Wolverine/Logan Howlett x Fem!Reader
Word Count: 3615
Warnings: SMUT 18+ Minors DNI!, Sexual themes, dirty talk, oral (fem receiving), p in v penetration (wrap it before you tap it), cum, swearing, use of "Baby" as a pet name, small alcohol mention, Older man/younger woman, Reader has female genitalia
Summary: After moving in to the mansion, you have developed quite the crush on the older, grumpy Wolverine. After he finds you walking the grounds one evening, what could happen if you face the fact that you've been flirting with each other for months?
A/N: I have always had such a crush on Hugh Jackman's Wolverine so Deadpool and Wolverine is like a dream come true
You were thankful that the other mutants had found you when they did. You had just lost your job, behind on your rent, and the most recent Tinder date had ghosted you. When a group of likeminded individuals came to you with a promise of a free place to stay, how could you say no?
Once you had arrived and decorated your room, Professor Xavier revealed the place wasn't quite free. With a mutation allowing you to manipulate food at will, he thought you may be able to help provide for all of the children and teenagers living at the mansion. Despite feeling a bit slighted, you were glad to have been given a purpose.
Over time, the mansion began to truly feel like home. You felt at peace in the kitchens, putting together meals for the other occupants. Many of the residents saw you as a maternal figure despite you not being much older than them, only being in your twenties. No matter your age, they tended to enjoy talking through problems with you over some tea and your famous chocolate chip cookies.
Something else that had grown over time at the mansion, alongside others fondness of you, was your own fondness for a particularly grumpy mutant. You couldn't explain it, as it didn't seem like you had much in common. You were generally a pretty bubbly, happy person, eager to speak with the children to help them out. The Wolverine was, well, not exactly described the same.
Nonetheless, he began to consume more of your thoughts. At first more of a schoolgirl crush, thinking about how you found him attractive. Of course you had thought about the fact that he was much older than yourself, but you didn't pay that much mind as you expected the little crush to go away over time. Instead, the crush became stronger and stronger until it was something you knew would not go away soon. Laying in your bed at night, you couldn't help but imagine what it would be like to feel Logan laying in bed next to you. Or perhaps, on top of you.
Using your powers to conjure ingredients for the student's lunch, you let your mind wander again as you worked. You imagined what it would be like to feel the Wolverine's hands on you, walking up behind you while you were cooking to place his hands on your hips. Resting his chin on your shoulder as he relaxed into you, making you giggle as his beard tickled your neck.
"Do we have any beer?" Came a voice, startling you from your daydream. What startled you most was the fact that it was his voice, as you spun around to face Logan, hoping your face was not as flushed as it felt.
"Give me just a minute," you said with a smile at him. "You know Charles doesn't like to keep any on hand since there are so many kids here," you said slyly, "but lucky for you my powers can extend to food and drink."
He sat down at the table nearby with a sigh. You tried not to notice the picturesque way he seemed to pose as he sat, legs spread and chest puffed out. Stop being such a creep!
"Why couldn't he have found you sooner?" Spoke Logan. The lazy smile on his face as he said those words made your face hot, hoping he didn't notice as you got to work on his request.
Handing him the drink, your fingertips brushed his. As you moved to let go, you felt him linger.
"Thanks, bub," he said, looking up into your eyes as he took the drink from your hand. You turned away quickly, resuming your work in hopes he didn't notice the way that his stare made you heat up.
Thankfully, Logan chose not to stay long. Once he left the room, you felt you could finally catch your breath and focus on the task at hand.
-
This was a pattern that the two of you fell into. Simple conversations never lasted long, but they always seemed to end with a linger. Oftentimes you would find yourself trying to sneak a glance at the man, only to meet his own eyes before shifting your own away quickly.
You tried not to look too far into those moments, after all, there's no way that Logan would be looking deeper himself. Surely it was a coincidence, or perhaps it was merely a symptom of the social cues he tended to ignore in favor of brashness. He never seemed rude during conversation with yourself, but it may be correlated. At least, that's what you decided to believe. Allowing yourself to believe the alternative, that he was purposefully flirting with you, could never end well. You were not going to open yourself up into that kind of disappointment.
Walking the grounds of the mansion, you took in the cool autumn air. After a busy day, you thought a walk in the moonlight would be the perfect thing before making your way to your bedroom. It was a futile attempt to clear your mind before trying to fall asleep, even though you knew despite your efforts your mind would still drift to Logan before you did so.
With a sigh, you took a seat down on a nearby bench. Looking up at the sky, you were grateful Charles did not allow much light pollution nearby, allowing you to admire the stars.
"The hell are you doing out here?" Came a gruff voice from behind you, making you jump. Even though the suddenness of the voice breaking the silence making you jump, you knew who it was immediately.
"I could ask you the same thing, Logan." You said, turning to find the man coming up on the bench. He rounded the corner, motioning to the empty seat next to you as if to ask permission to sit down. You nodded, and he did just so.
The two of you sat in silence, taking in your surroundings. At least, that's what you assumed he was doing. The only surrounding you could take in now was him. He smelled good, like smoke and a cologne you couldn't place. Your thigh brushed against his seated so close, and as soon as your leg touched his it felt as if it could have caught fire, spreading through your body quickly. The power he had over you was undeniable, and you pled that he wouldn't notice.
Looking over at him, you saw him looking into the distance. You took the moment to observe the way he looked under the moonlight. His hair looked soft, as if begging to have hands run through it. The stars reflected within his eyes, giving them a subtle sparkle. Your eyes trailed down the slope of his nose, down to his lips. You were sure that if you were to kiss him, his facial hair would tickle your cheeks in the most delectable way. You felt your breathing deepen.
Logan turned towards you, a look that you couldn't quite place in his eyes.
"What are we doing?" He asked.
You felt your heart clench, unsure if you should be confused or nervous.
"What do you mean?"
He chuckled, "you know what I mean. As if you weren't checking me out a few seconds ago." You turned away in embarrassment, feeling your face heat. He continued, "we've been dancing around it for months. I should have put a stop to it a long time ago."
You felt your body heat in embarrassment even more. Not only had he noticed how you felt, but just as you assumed he did not reciprocate those feelings.
"I-I'm sorry," you said softly. Afraid that if you rose your voice any louder, you he would hear the wobble in your tone. You didn't want to cry in front of him, especially now.
"I'm the one who should be sorry," he said with a sad chuckle. "It's not your fault. When I said I should have put a stop to it, I mean an old man like me shouldn't be flirting with a young thing like you."
So he was flirting, you thought. Even though he seems regretful now, at least you know you weren't looking into something that wasn't really happening.
"It's not like I wasn't flirting back," you said with a sigh. "If I wanted you to stop I would have told you."
You could feel his eyes flip to you quickly, as if he was surprised.
"What did you just say?"
"I-I would have stopped you?"
A smirk made its way slowly onto his face.
"You wanted me to flirt with you?"
Your face scrunched in confusion at his words. "Was I not obvious?" There is no way he didn't pick up on your feelings. "Did you not just comment on me checking you out literally minutes ago?"
His smirk only grew, "maybe I just thought you were naive. Good to know there's more to it."
"You were flirting with me, thinking I was just naive?" You questioned, a slight burst of confidence making you reflect on what he had said previously. "A young thing like me?" He faltered at your words.
"What do you-"
"You said so yourself," you purred, confidence clouding your judgement, allowing you to reach toward him to place a hand gently on his outer thigh. You were sure to note his sharp intake of breath as you did so, only emboldening you further. "You liked flirting with me didn't you, Old Man?"
He nearly groaned at your words, sending a rush through your body. his eyes, previously glued to your hand placement, flicked back up to your eyes. They didn't stay there, and you noticed his heavier breathing as his eyes began to flip between your eyes and your mouth. Not wanting to wait for him any longer, you leaned in, pressing your lips to his. You were right, his beard did tickle.
You kissed Logan softly, moving your lips with his as soon as he got over his shock. The softness of your lips on his, paired with the near-innocent way you kissed him drove him crazy. Logan's arms made their way around you, pulling you towards him so that you were sat on his lap. His strength was already known to you, but the ease of his action still made you squeak. If he can move you this easily while kissing you, your mind ran wild with what else he could be capable of.
He deepened the kiss, leaving you just about breathless. Your excitement, and ego, only grew as you felt Logan's own excitement growing under your lap. Hands frenzied across his chest, grabbing his shirt while he continued to use his arms to press you close to him. You didn't even register you had begun moving your hips against him until he pulled back, his head rolling back with a groan that was purely sinful.
"You're a little minx, you know that?" He grumbled, but made no move to stop your motions.
"Logan," you whimpered, batting your eyelashes at him with wide doe-eyes. His last thread of self-restraint snapped inside of him as he heard his name fall from your mouth. He had already let himself go much further with you than he had planned, but now that he's heard how you sound saying his name he needed to hear it, again and again and again.
He rose from the bench quickly, grabbing your hand in his much larger one.
"Come on," he grumbled, pulling you along with him. He moved hastily, but you kept up easily. His pace only made your growing sense of arousal quicken as well.
Before you knew it, he was pushing open the door to his room. The room matched the man, and you noticed how it smelled like him too.
"Sit," he commanded motioning to the bed. You had never thought yourself one to obey a man so easily, but something about his tone made you do as he said. Logan made sure the door was locked behind you both before returning to you quickly, taking your lips in his own again. His tongue darted out, running across your bottom lip. A moan escaped you involuntarily, and he relished in the noise. To have you here with him, so needy, so willing, so young. Even though he knew he should have blocked himself off from you as soon as he heard you were only in your twenties, he couldn't deny the fact that it only turned you on now that he had you in this position.
He held your thigh with one hand, using the other to snake under your shirt to cup one of your breasts over your bra. You moaned again at his touch, only encouraging him further.
"Take it off."
You pulled away from him just far enough to grab the hem of your shirt, pulling it up and over your head. You then reached behind you, unclasping your bra and throwing both articles of clothing to the floor.
Logan smiled, eyes not leaving your breasts as he spoke.
"Well damn, I just meant the shirt but I'm not complaining."
The blush that rose to your face spread down to your chest as well. The way you flushed at his words was gorgeous to him. He never wanted this vision of you to stop. There was a part of Logan that was still convinced he may be dreaming.
Wasting no more time, he laid you down. His bed was much softer than you would have guessed. One hand made it's way to one of your breasts as his mouth made its way to the other. You moaned as he squeezed one breast, using his tongue to flick over your nipple on the other. The heat pooling between your legs was nearing a point of becoming uncomfortable. From the rigidity of Logan pants where they pressed against you, you could assume the same was true for him.
You reached down, palming him through his jeans. Already, you could tell his size would break you. It's not a thought you minded. He groaned at the contact, the vibrations making their way from his mouth to your nipple. Every part of you felt on fire, overheated as each touch of his sent you deeper into arousal.
You gasped at the sudden loss of contact, Logan pulling away to pull his own shirt off his head. You made no attempt to look away from him, taking in his built chest and abdomen. You wanted to put your mouth all over him.
"Like what you see?"
He pulled his jeans off before crawling back on top of you, one hand fingering each of your nipples as he attached his mouth back to your own. He captured every moan of yours into his mouth, as if devouring them would mean he could hear another.
Your hips has a mind of their own, craning upward towards the bulge in his boxers. As your clothed heat came in contact with him, he reciprocated with a growl, grinding down into you. Your mind spun at the increased contact, heat continuing to grow in your belly.
Logan pulled away from you again, making you whimper. His mouth trailed down your body, stopping at your breasts before continuing further. His fingers looped under your waistband, and he looked up at you as if asking for permission.
"Please, Logan," you whined with a wiggle of your hips. With your confirmation, he nearly tore the bottoms from your body trying to take them off so fast. Revealing your panties to him, he groaned as he saw the way that they were clearly soaked through. He loved the effect he was having on you.
The panties didn't stay on you long though, tore from you as well as you felt his warm mouth find your cunt. His tongue licked slowly from your hole up to your clit, nearly making you scream. Your hands found their way to his hair, tangling your fingers in his tufts. The soft tug from your fingers make him moan into your pussy and you tucked that information away.
His speed increased, tongue flicking over your clit in sloppy circles. Your moans and whines only continued to spur him on, and you felt a finger prodding at your entrance. He pushed it in slowly, feeling your velvet walls clench around him.
If one finger feels this good, you thought, how the fuck am I going to take him?
He began to fuck you with his hand, adding a finger when you were ready and pushing slowly in and out of your soaking pussy. Combined with the movements of his tongue, you felt yourself reaching your peak quickly.
"Logan, I-" you whimpered.
"Come on baby," he said gruffly, only backing off your cunt long enough to get his words out before continuing his motions. "Cum for me baby. Show me how good you taste."
You moaned at his words, it being all you needed to push you over the edge. Your body shivered at the intensity of your orgasm, walls clenching around his fingers. Logan eagerly lapped up your juices as you came, only slowing down as your moans became breathier as you came down from your high.
" 'm gonna fuck you now baby," he growled. Despite having just orgasmed, his words sent a wave of tingles to your core. "That sound alright?"
You nodded, looking into his eyes as he made his way on top of you. He leaned down to kiss you, and you could taste yourself on his tongue.
"Use your words."
He took his length into his hand, mesmerizing you with the way he lazily jerked it in his hand.
"Please," you whispered.
"What was that?"
"Please, Logan, fuck me!" You cried.
"That's it," he said cockily as he pressed the head of his cock to your entrance. "Damn you're fucking soaking wet for me, aren't you?"
You could only moan in response, his cockhead stretching your walls as he entered you. It hurt as he stretched you in the best way, feeling more full than you ever have before you had even felt him bottom out. When he finally did, he used every ounce of restraint to stop himself from moving too much as he allowed you to adjust to his size. Before too long, you began to squirm under him. Your hands roamed his body, from his abs to his chest to his arms. With the way you whimpered under him, he was glad for your motions as he wasn't sure he could stay still much longer.
He began pulling out, before pushing back in tantalizingly slow. You moaned wantonly at the movement, feeling his dick twitch inside of you. You wiggled your hips, trying to push closer to him.
"Logan," you whined as if begging. Looking into his eyes, you could see how dark they were with lust. His pace increased, only making you louder as you kept your eye contact with him.
"Fuck baby," he grunted. "Not to bad for an old man, huh?" The way you moaned in response, mouth open in an 'O' shape as your eyes stayed locked to his told him he was correct. Your hands clawed your way down his chest, your eyes falling shut in your pleasure.
"Look at me," he demanded. You did as told, your big, lidded eyes filled with want nearing him towards his orgasm. All you could do was whine, whimper and moan, no hopes of formulating any real response. It was as if you were drunk on the way he felt inside you, pushing in deep and hitting all the right places.
"Are you gonna cum again for me baby? Let me feel you clench around my cock?" All his words did was make you moan louder, as if that were even still possible. You had never felt this level of pleasure before, and you knew you were going to be addicted. One of his hands made its way to one of your nipples, pinching it and rolling it between his thumb and forefinger. You felt your tummy flutter, clenching as you reached your second orgasm.
Your vision filled with stars, nearly screaming as you reached your peak again. Your walls clenched around Logan's cock, prolonging your orgasm as he continued to pound it in and out of your cunt.
You felt his thrusts begin to falter, grunting and growling as his movements became even harder and deeper than before. He suddenly pulled out, making you miss that feeling of fullness as he jerked himself off with his hand, spilling his cum onto your stomach and breasts.
As you both began to relax again, he couldn't take his eyes off you. The way his seed looked across your body, your flushed face and the way your breasts moved as you huffed breathlessly.
"Take a picture," you joked, "it'll last longer."
"Can I?" He replied cockily, breathless himself as he cocked an eyebrow making you giggle.
After helping you clean yourself up, Logan laid down next to you with a deep huff, pulling the blanket over the both of you.
"We've got to start doing that more often," you whispered. His arm opened for you, letting you snuggle into his chest sleepily as he wrapped his arm around you. He placed a soft kiss to the crown of your head.
"Oh baby," he chuckled softly, "after all that, I don't think I ever want to stop."
You drifted off to sleep, feeling protected under Logan's grasp, happy you had decided to take that walk.
#wolverine x reader#wolverine smut#logan howlett x reader#logan howlett smut#logan x reader#deadpool 3#deadpool x reader#xmen x reader#older man younger woman#smut#x reader#female reader
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Hey are to taking requests I’m think about g!p Wanda where reader lost her job and feels like she’s good for nothing but Wanda reminds her that she’s good for everything and what it starts very soft ends up being in rough s*x reader ends up being pregnant
Perfect Little Housewife
Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Reader
Word Count: 2934
Warnings: Poor Reader gets fired, a little bit of depressed reader, crying, comfort, Smut, Wanda has a penis, soft sex, rough sex, Mommy kink, breeding, Wanda calls reader slut once, obviously unprotected sex, a bit of choking, reader gets pregnant.
A/n: I love the request but as a note Anon I would like it if you didn't use the term g!p it can be offensive to some and I try my best to be respectful. So in the future you could either say intersex or just plainly that she has a penis thanks 😊 But I hope you like it cause I did enjoy this one.
NO ONE IS PERMITTED TO STEAL, COPY, OR REBLOG MY WORK AS THEIR OWN
A tear slips down your cheek as you set the box full of your things on the kitchen island. Fired is what just happened to you. Well they said you were being laid off but it is essentially the same thing in your mind. You're so useless that you can’t even keep your job. How are you supposed to support yourself and your wife if you lost your job? You loved your job and were good at it, so out of all the employees why did it have to be you.
A few more tears fall as you let out a sigh. Your hands are gripping the counter on either side of the box as you look down. On top is a picture of you and your wife on your wedding day. Bright and happy smiles at the prospect of a great future but where is that future now. Tears land on the glass and roll down the front. How are you going to tell Wanda? What is she going to think of you? You're a failure.
You don’t hear the door or the soft footsteps creeping towards you. You’re so lost in your thoughts of failure that you missed the fact that your wife is home. Wanda walks into the kitchen seeing you hunched over a box and the sounds of your sniffles causing a look of worry to cross her face. “Detka?” Wanda calls out to you. You quickly stand up straighter and wipe furiously at your eyes to clear the fallen tears. You turn around hoping that you have composed yourself enough. “Wanda.” You're a bit shocked to see her home so early. “What’s wrong moya lyubov'.” She rushes over to you having seen your red puffy eyes and the slight shake of your hands. Her hand reaches to gently cup your cheek, her thumb rubbing against the skin tenderly. “N-nothing.” You try to sound more assured of yourself but the slight stutter doesn’t fool your wife.
Wanda pulls you into her, wrapping her arms around you tightly. You can’t help but let yourself break in her arms. A sob you didn’t know that you were holding in escapes from your lips. You grip the front of Wanda’s shirt tightly as you cry into her shoulder. You can’t help as you cry harder because of how pathetic you are right now. First you lose your job and now you're crying like a baby. But Wanda is soothing, her touch brings you comfort. Her hand gently rubbing at your back as she kisses your head, quiet shushes as she gently rocks you. You don’t know how long you cry for but they eventually calm, Wanda not stopping her menstrations to calm you.
Once you had completely stopped crying Wanda pulled you back far enough so that she could get a good look at you. She wipes the tears with her thumbs as she cups your face in her hands. “Moya lyubov’ please tell me what’s wrong.” Her voice is soft and so reassuring, but there still is a voice in the back of your head that screams that you are a failure. You let out a shuttered sigh. “I was fired … Well laid off b-but that still means I’m nothing.” You thought you were all done crying but more tears shine in your eyes. “Oh Y/n/n you're not nothing. Detka we will be just fine.” You shake your head pulling away from her grasp. “I’m useless. I can’t even keep my job to help provide for you.. For us. What kind of wife am I? Then here I am bawling like a fucking idiot because of how useless I am.” Your sorrow turns a bit bitter, but not at her but at yourself.
You're now muttering and pacing around at how bad of a wife you are and how pathetic you are. Wanda hates to see you so down on yourself. “Detka.” Wanda tries to get your attention but you don’t even acknowledge her. “Y/n/n.” She tries again but it's still the same. “Y/n!” She is louder and more assertive which causes you to stop in your tracks. Wanda takes this as a chance. She grabs your hips and turns you, pressing your back against the island. “Y/n, sweetheart you are not pathetic or a failure. They were stupid for letting you go.” She gives you a kind and reassuring smile. She helps calm you down with her soft voice and soft touches.
Wanda leans in kissing your lips softly. “You are beautiful, kind, and amazing. I love you so much. You can stay home or you can come work for me if you really want to.” She pecks your lips constantly throughout her words. She knows just how to soften you up to bring you off of the ledge. “Okay.” You breathe out. Wanda kisses you again pouring all of her love for you into that single kiss.
You two slowly make out in the kitchen. A need for comfort turning into a need for one another. Wanda easily lifts you onto the counter. You let your legs fall open and Wanda slots herself between them. She smiles into the kiss at your action before she is licking at your bottom lip asking for entrance. You gladly allow her access. A moan escapes your throat as Wanda’s tongue meets yours and she grinds her hips into yours. You can already feel her growing bulge.
Your hands move down and start to fiddle with the button on Wanda’s pants. You struggle to focus on the kiss as you try to undo her pants. “Please.” You whimper against her lips as you fidget. She smirks, moving to push your hands away and undoing her pants swiftly. But she lets them sit around her hips revealing the top of her boxer shorts. You try to push her pants down but she stops you. Clicking her tongue. “Not yet detka. Mommy wants to see you.” You whine but nod. Wanda reaches to take off your shirt which you help by lifting your arms.
Wanda’s lips meet yours again in another soft kiss. Her hand reached around your back and unhooked your bra. She doesn’t break the kiss as she pulls it down your shoulders and completely off. Her hands now take their place kneading at your breast. You moan in her mouth as she works you up. Gently kneading before her fingers pinch and twist at your sensitive nipples. “Ahh Mommy.” Your hips buck against hers feeling her cock straining against its fabric confines. “Please.” You whimper.
Wanda moans as you buck into her. “Since you asked so nicely detka.” Wanda’s hands move down and hook into the hem of your pants and underwear. You lift your hips slightly allowing her to pull them both down in one fell swoop. She steps back to pull them all the way off and toss them to the side with the rest of your clothes. She can already see your wetness smearing on your thighs making her groan. You reach out for her wanting her close but she doesn’t move. Her eyes meet yours before she pulls her shirt over her head and tosses it to the side before she reaches behind her back and unclasps her bra letting it fall from her shoulders onto the floor. You so desperately want to touch her and for her to touch you that you let out a whine giving her grabby hands. Wanda clicks her tongue at you. “Patiences moya lyubov’.” She smirks at your neediness. Wanda then pushes her pants down her legs. You can now see her strained cock and the small wet spot of precum that has stained her boxers.
It takes everything in you not to just jump off the counter and rid Wanda of the rest of her clothing. But not soon after Wanda is pushing her boxers down to meet her pants around her ankles. Her cock slapped against her lower stomach. She kicks her clothes from around her ankles off and slots herself back between your waiting legs. Wanda pumps her cock a few times before swiping through your folds stopping to gently nudge at your pulsing clit. You both moan at the action.
“Fuck malyshka you’re so wet for me.” Wanda groans as she teases your folds. “Mommy please.” You wrap your legs around her waist pulling her closer. Wanda’s desire finally wins over as she presses the tip against your entrance. She slowly pushes in. Your walls stretch to accommodate her size. Your body's desire to be stretched and filled by your wife. She keeps pushing until she is all the way in your warm walls eloping her length. Both of you moan when her hips meet yours.
You wrap your arms around Wanda’s shoulders lacing your fingers through her hair pulling her into a kiss. As you lips meet Wanda begins to gently thrust into you. She begins to fuck you at a steady pace. Each thrust deep and precise, hitting the spongy spot deep inside of you. Whimpers and moans being swallowed by Wanda’s mouth.
The sensual moment between the two of you as Wanda doesn’t just fuck you but makes love to you. No matter where you are in life you will always be the most important thing in Wanda’s life. She wants you to feel all of that. This isn’t about being horny it is about showing you how much she loves and cherishes you. All you can hope to do is reflect the same amount of love that she has for you back to her.
Wanda’s hips keep their steady pace as you continue to softly make out with one another. It’s messy but filled with love. Her arms wrap tightly around you and pull you impossibly closer to her. Your mutual moans being swallowed by the other as you grind back. Your fingers gripping her hair as you break to catch your breath. She leans her forehead against yours. Her eyes looking down to where your two bodies are joined. Small pants as she thrusts perfectly angeling herself every time. “Such a good girl for Mommy. I love you so much detka.” Wanda mumbles against your lips as she gives you a kiss. “Lo-Love you too Mommy.” You mumble breathily.
Your walls tighten around Wanda’s length as the knot in your lower abdomen tightens. Getting closer to the edge of release. Wanda right there with you, her thrust becoming a bit more sloppy. Your walls clamp around her as her length twitches inside of you. She grinds into you as she thrust in, pleasure shooting through you as you grind back. Your walls are squeezing her perfectly. Your moans are growing as you let your head fall forward onto her shoulder. She gently kisses your other shoulder as you squeeze her tightly.
Wanda can tell you close. She wants you to finish with her, to feel you release all over her cock. She lightly nips and sucks at the skin around your neck and shoulder, sure to leave marks behind. “Cum detka. I wanna feel you fall apart.” She mumbles against your skin. Her thrust never having turned more than a steady pace continuing to drive into you. You moan as the knot snaps, letting go. Your legs tighten around her waist as your walls spasm around her length. Your cum coating her cock as she grinds into you. Her cock twitches as she releases inside of you. Your walls are being coated by her white sticky liquid.
Feeling you cum and your walls sucking her in, greedy to milk her dry flips a switch inside of Wanda. She starts to speed up her thrust as spurts of cum coat your walls. She wants to fill you full. Feel you grip her cock like a vice. So instead of bringing you down from your high she starts to build a new one. Her hips now pistoning into you, her cock quickly disappearing in and out of your sticky hole.
“Mommy.” You whimper confused. “Shhh detka, let Mommy use you now.” She grunts and with a particularly hard thrust you moan. That desirable flip switching inside of you at the change of your wife. You love how she can be soft one moment but rough the next.
Wanda pulls out of you but before you can even complain about being empty she has manhandled you into a new position. She pulls you off the counter and turns you around. She presses in the middle of your back making you lean over the counter before she grabs your hips harshly and swiftly thrust her full length back inside of you. “Mommy!” You moan out loudly, her thrust at a fast and brutal pace from the start this time. She jackhammers her hips into yours, bouncing off your ass. Her fingers dig into your hips as she grunts. The force of her thrust moves your whole body.
Your moans bounce off the walls of the kitchen as Wanda continues to thrust into you from behind. She slaps her hand down on your ass causing you to clench around her. “Oh you like that you, you little slut.” She smirks leaning over you, her breast pressed against your back. All you can do is nod your head as another slap connects with your ass cheek. Another loud moan falling from your lips. “Fuck so perfect for Mommy moya lyubov’.” She kisses your shoulder. “M-Mommy’s.” You mumble in agreeance.
Wanda thrust in and out of you perfectly with each stroke. “Fuck. What if Mommy gets you pregnant baby hmm. You don’t need a job. Mommy will take care of you. You’ll be my perfect little housewife.” You close your eyes, nodding as you moan. “You like that detka? Mommy filling you with her babies.” Wanda grunts as she continues to thrust. Her hand that was left on your hip moving up to your throat and gently squeezing. She pulls both of your bodies up as she never falters her thrust. Her other arm wrapping around your waist keeps your body close to hers. “P-Please!” You moan, your hands gripping her arms wrapped around you digging your nails into her flesh.
You and Wanda have leisurely talked about kids but nothing solid but her words play in your head. Now would be perfect and she is right she makes enough to support all of you. She can support not only the both of you but all the kids you could ever desire to have together. The door to a career may have closed but another door to a whole new life has opened. One that you are willing to risk it all for.
“Mommy’s going to fill you so full of her cum. I’ll keep filling this perfect little hole until you're pregnant with my child. Fuck.” Wanda grunts, her thrust becoming sloppy as she draws nearer to her impending orgasm. Your walls are desperately sucking her in just begging to be filled even more. “Want you babies Mommy. Please fill me.” Your words are breathy as Wanda’s hand around your throat tightens.
With Wanda’s hand on your throat and her thrusts you're soon falling over the edge. Your walls clamp hard around her shaft as your head falls back. Silently screaming as you fall over the edge. Your cum once again mixes with hers as your orgasm washes over. Your body trembling in her hold. Her thrust is sloppy as she grows near. The power she has over you in this moment has thrust hard one more time before unloading inside of you. You don’t know how it is possible but she unloads more cum inside of you than the last time. The prospect of getting you pregnant and starting a family with you exciting the other woman.
Wanda’s thrust slows down as she helps ride the both of you through your highs. If she wasn’t holding onto you so tightly you know your legs would have given out under you. She holds you tight, slowing her pace to a stop when you whimper from a bit of overstimulation. She kisses the side of your head gently as she pulls out of you. “You did so good for me moya lyubov’.” You let out a content sigh as you relax back into her arms. “Thank you Wands.” You mumble with your eyes closed. “Anything for you my love.” She kisses your shoulder gently before she picks you up bridal style. She gently carries you to your shared bedroom and places you on the bed. She quickly gets both of you cleaned up before she slides into the bed next to you.
You snuggle into Wanda’s side as she wraps her arms around you tightly. Her one hand laying to rest on your stomach. You look up at her seeing her smiling back down at you. You giggle and blush. “Whatttt.” She just chuckles. “You’ll be pregnant. I’m sure of it. We'll have a perfect little family before you know it.” She kisses your lips gently. “How can you know that?” You ask her. “I just know it detka. You’re going to be pregnant with my babies and you get to be my perfect little housewife.” You hum at her words knowing that your wife is never wrong about these things. Snuggling close into her as you let the thoughts of your future take hold. Your eyes sliding shut with a wide smile on your face as you drift off into a peaceful sleep.
#wanda maximoff x reader#wanda maximoff#wanda x reader#wanda maximoff smut#wanda fanfic#mommy wanda#wanda marvel#wanda#wanda x you#wanda x y/n#wanda maximoff fanfiction#wanda maximoff mcu#wanda maximoff fic#wanda maximoff x reader fluff#wanda maximoff x reader smut#wanda maxmoff x y/n#syd answers
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Northern Attitude (I) • C.S
(Gif not mine)
Request: hey!! can i request something where you’re a targaryen and you’ve been sent to speak with cregan like jacaerys did on the show, but you’re quite soft spoken and feel lowkey intimidated by all these big burly northmen. and ofc some flirting with cregan and he makes you feel safe :) -- @sarahisslytherin
Summary: In the process of assuring Winterfell’s loyalty to your mother, you get close to Lord Stark
Warnings: fem!reader, you’re the daughter of Rhaenyra but I don’t specify the father so it can be more inclusive (older than jace), alcohol and eating mentions
Word Count: 1.3k
A.N: This wasn't going to be this long and then I got so into it. I'm actually really happy with how this turned out! Not just because it's actually over 1k words, but also because i really really like it! And I hope you guys enjoy it too!!
Part I | Read the last part here!
•
The bitter cold of the North nips at your extremities even when housed inside the walls of Winterfell. This was a cold you felt right down to the bone, despite the furs your host had provided you with only hours prior when you arrived.
Since your arrival, you have occupied yourself in your chambers, flitting between the books on the shelves and the small hearth on the other side of the decent sized room.
It is not until late your host makes an appearance; matters from the Wall taking priority over the Queen's daughter. You held no ill will, knowing how important the Wall was for the Northmen closest to it.
The greeting outside of your chamber door goes smoothly; since birth you had to greet numerous Lords and Ladies, this one being no different. His charming looks, though stoic, catch you off guard. You take his offered arm before he guides you to the welcome feast.
Cregan leads you through the dark stone corridors of Winterfell, your arms intertwined as you hold onto the crook of his elbow. You feel his strong muscle through his many layers of thick fabric. Your footsteps echo along with the metallic rattling of your guards behind the two of you. The absence of conversation is comfortable, however, something you truly have not felt since the death of your Grandsire.
Beside you, Cregan practically radiates warmth which has you almost melting into his side. Despite the chill, his hands are uncovered, the palm of his hand rests on your arm, heating your covered skin beneath.
The sight of the rugged wooden doors causes you to stiffen almost immediately. The reality of your purpose for being at Winterfell cools your blood as it finally washes over you. You were here on behalf of your mother, the rightful heir to the Iron Throne. Swallowing uneasily, you attempt to calm your nerves.
Sensing your distress, Cregan leans closer to your frame. "Do not fret, Princess," He mutters kindly. "You have no one to convince except me—and I am already highly inclined to agree to your terms."
You do not spare your host a glance as your face burns. In front of you, the grand doors open, revealing a large hall and guests already rising for the two of you.
Your gaze glides over the bowing figures, all men, you notice. The only women in the hall were serving girls; stiffly standing at the ends of the room, pitchers full of presumably ale clutched in their hands.
Attempting to muster up a commanding presence was difficult when next to the Lord of Winterfell, for he commands the room with no effort. His men watch you as you continue to the other side. Their intense stares and built bodies making you nervous. Swords were strewn recklessly across their dining tables, bows and arrows litter the floor. In their eyes you were a defenseless babe crawling into a den of wolves.
The men in King’s Landing and Dragonstone were dangerous in a different way. Their sharp wit and web of lies could cut deep and kill. The men of the North, however, used their brute force and self-assured bravery to kill you just as dreadfully. Any one of these men could bloody you as you walk by them. This rattles you just as much as the plotting traitors back in King’s Landing does.
Taking a deep breath, you feel the soothing motions of Cregan's thumb tracing circles against your arm. The reassurance pulls you out of your spiral of thoughts. With your chin held high you continue to the front of the hall, the long wooden table already covered with food and goblets of wine and ale.
After a few words from both you and Cregan the feast begins and the once silent hall becomes almost deafening. There were plenty of jeers and jokes thrown around at your expense. If you had more fire in your blood like the rest of your family, you might have said something to stay their tongues.
You and Cregan make small talk, the two of you paying more attention to the plates on the table. By the time your appetite is sated the Lord of Winterfell had noticed your meek demeanor and timid glances at the drunk Northmen below.
"Pay them no mind, Princess," The warm light of the hall's hearth dance in Cregan's striking grey eyes. "These rowdy bastards lack decency after a drop of ale."
You scan Winterfell's great hall from your position at the high table. Cregan Stark's men were all in various states of disarray, though you suppose it’s only characteristic of Northerners. The room was loud, almost overwhelmingly so, with booming laughter and arguments that spanned across the tables.
"Not like Dragonstone, I presume?" At Cregan's soft yet baritone voice, heat creeps up your neck.
Your gaze turns to the Lord of Winterfell, a smile gracing his usually stoic face. "Not at all, my Lord. Dragonstone is more.."
"Boring?"
"Traditional," You finish, smile mirroring his own.
Cregan snorts. "Aye, you Southerners have quite the stick up the arse."
"Oh really now?" You lightly giggle, tilting your head as if to challenge the Northerner at your side. You drink from your goblet, the red wine sweet on your lips, eyebrows raised.
"Aye, Princess. I think you need a Northerner to invigorate your life down there."
You hum in response, the wine making your skin tingle. With your attention now solely on Cregan Stark, you feel yourself melting into comfort.
Cregan briefly pauses, looking into your eyes. They mirror an oncoming winter storm and you’re unable to look away.
“I have something to attend to, Princess. My men will escort you and your guards to your quarters.” He takes your hand in his, the delicate grip of such a strong man making you bite your bottom lip. “I will try to see you before the night ends.” With that, his lips meet your knuckles in a soft kiss.
Cregan heaves himself out of his seat, throwing you one last smirk before leaving you in the hall with your guards and the remaining feasting men.
With one last sip from your goblet, you allow yourself to be escorted to your chambers, tugging your fur cloak tighter around you.
The crescent moon is shining through your window when you hear three knocks on you door. Assuming that this late night visitor could only be Lord Stark, you rise from the bed, adorning the fur cloak your host had provided you earlier in the day.
The door creaks as you open it tentatively. Cregan stands at the threshold, wearing the same attire from the feast. You take note of the hint of pink on his cheeks and the red hue of the tips of his ears peeking out of his shoulder length brown hair. Whether this was a result of the North's bitter chill or something else, you do not know.
"Princess." He bows his head as he greets you.
"Lord Stark..." You breathe out, smiling at the man in front of you. "Is this visit based on the business of the Crown?"
"No, Princess, I just..." His low tone tapers off as he lifts his hand up in order to stroke you face. His fingertips feel warm against your skin. You wait with bated breath for his next move. Slowly, his fingertips trace down your delicate skin to hold your chin between his index and his thumb. He tilts your head up slightly. His stormy grey eyes never leave your own. "I just wanted to gaze upon your beauty once more before I fall asleep."
The maneuver has you practically trembling under your heavy furs. You wet your lips, his eyes only quickly following the movement before once again settling back on your eyes.
"I am happy to indulge in your desires...my Lord." You whisper, voice almost quivering.
"Sleep well, Princess," With that, Cregan removes his touch, though his warmth still lingers across your face. He bows once more before turning and walking down the stone corridor.
Slowly you close your chamber door, smiling lips pursed.
"Mother will be pleased." You sigh before sitting once more on your bed, thoughts of Cregan Stark dancing through your head.
•
#house of the dragon#hotd#game of thrones#got#house of the dragon x reader#hotd x reader#got x reader#game of thrones x reader#cregan stark#cregan stark x reader#cregan stark x you#cregan stark x Targaryen!reader#cregan stark fanfiction
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Private session part2 is needed!! We all know Barry can be a dick head and he actually considers adding the having sex with a stripper option to customers when y/n finds out about this she obviously mad and saying no but when rafe finds outs about this he’s obviously mad and goes to Barry pissed saying wtf is this he obviously dose not want y/n to have sex with anyone else but him
Private Session - part two
Part One, Part Two, Part Three
Summary: Rafe likes to watch reader while she works as a stripper. He asks for a private session in which he'll pay a large amount for her time. Rafe takes her home and uses her however he pleases. When he finds out Barry has been selling you to customers, he gets jealous, insisting that you must not sleep with anyone else.
Pairings: Stripper!Reader X obsessive!Rafe
Warnings: Rafe is obsessive of reader. Reader is a stripper. Mention of drugs (Rafe and Barry do cocaine), bondage (reader is tied up), p in v, unprotected sex, language, SLIGHT degradation, praise, oral (f receiving), fingering. SMUT SMUT SMUT!
Word Count: 4.8k
Author Note: Hey babes! I got this idea from this GIF , like just imagine he's sitting in the strip club throwing dollar bills at you like that. This fic is NOT proofread, it's almost FIVE AM and I have school tomorrow, well, today I guess...UGH. I just got this request and had to write this!! Also thank you all for the support on part one?!?!?! That's INSANE, I love you guys! I wanted to get this out asap for y'all. Sorry if it's actually shit, I'm so tired and also high. If you see any errors please feel free to correct me kindly! Thanks!
I promise I will work on The Watcher; I just got a bit stuck. Thank you guys for reading, I hope you enjoy! I love you all and stay freaky!
Credits: GIF from this post
Some time has passed since your ‘private session’ with Rafe. The first time you’d come back to work after your session with Rafe, Barry had talked to you at the beginning of your shift. Apparently, after seeing how much Rafe paid you for just one hour alone with him, Barry was inspired. He had told you that the club will now be providing a new “service” to well-paying customers. Customers now have the option to have sex with the dancers for the right price. Barry knew better than to sell his girls out for cheap, so the cost is rather high. And there’s typically only two types of men that have both the means and the money for it: the rich, old sugar daddies who probably can’t even get it up on their own and the rich, horny assholes of the island, take Rafe for example.
When Barry had told you this, you were pissed. This was not in your job description; you’re a stripper not a hooker. You wanted to yell at him and quit. The issue is that when you got this job, you had signed a contract with Barry stating that you’d have to work there for at least a year or else you’d have to pay a fee. Knowing Barry, it’s a ridiculously large fee, ensuring that no one quit before their year was up. And it’s likely that the contract he made you sign isn’t even legal. But you're not going to try and find out, knowing that even if it’s not, that doesn’t matter to Barry. He’ll make you pay. And you don’t have that kind of money, that’s why you’re in this position in the first place.
Over the next few weeks, you’ve noticed that Rafe hasn’t been coming in as much. Not while you’re working at least. The few times he has come in, he hasn’t been alone, always coming in with a few other kooks and barely paying any attention to you. Which is definitely not normal for Rafe. You just assume that since he’s had you now, he’s lost his interest. You expected that you’d be relieved when he finally stopped watching you like prey, but now you’re not exactly sure what you feel. Does he not find you attractive anymore? Did he just lose interest after finally getting what it is that he had craved for so long? God, was it just you; did he see who you really are and run in the opposite direction? You knew that whole experience with him was too good to be true.
You’re snapped out of your thoughts as you hear the door to the back room open. Quickly, you grab one of the dresses hanging in your locker and slip it over you; it’s what Barry told you to wear over your lingerie when you do at-home sessions with clients. You turn, watching as your boss and none other than Rafe Cameron stumble in through the door. Rafe goes quiet, his expression going dead as he lays eyes on you.
“Lookin’ good”, Barry whistles. “Where you headed, princess?” He asks as he turns away from you, sitting on a chair. Barry leans back in his seat, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a small baggie full of white powder. You’ve always ignored his side business, always pretending you don’t see any of it. Which is what you do right now. Trying your hardest to ignore the fact he’s preparing a line on the small, glass coffee table, you finish up what you’re doing and close your locker a bit harshly.
“I have a client waiting.” You snap. You walk closer to where Barry is sitting and turn your back to him. “Tie me?” You ask, holding your hair up and waiting for him to tie the complex strings of your backless dress. Though he’s currently busy doing a line of cocaine. Without hesitation, Rafe steps closer, his fingers moving to tie your dress. You don’t have to see him to know he’s the one tying your dress. Your skin just immediately remembers his touch, causing chills to run down your spine at the flashbacks of that night. Rafe notices your slight shiver and smirks as he tries to figure out how the straps of your dress go. His hands linger on the skin of your lower back for longer than they need to and your breath hitches each time his skin comes into contact with your own.
When he’s done, he sits on the couch across from Barry, facing you. You turn back to them, not bothering to thank him. To be honest, you’re a bit pissed at him for starting this whole sex with customers thing. You know he didn’t intend to, but he’s the one who gave Barry the idea.
Barry speaks up again as he wipes the excess powder from his nose. “When will you be back, I need you out on the floor.”
I can’t do fucking everything, you think. Although your words come out much more politely. “It’s an at-home appointment so probably an hour.” You’ve had this client before, he typically finishes pretty quick.
You hear Rafe’s loud breathing as he snorts a line which grabs your attention, making you briefly turn your head to look at him. You watch as he leans back, shutting his eyes and inhaling deeply as his high takes over. Rafe slouches in his seat, spreading his legs wide, making you quickly look away. Of course he notices how you’re reacting to him, he always notices everything about you. He crosses his arm and lets out a small sigh.
Rafe’s tone is sharp as he cuts in. “At-home?” He questions, still trying to act as though he doesn’t care about the conversation you and Barry were having.
Barry’s eyes linger on you for a moment, taking in the sight before turning to look at Rafe. “We now offer a new service: you can fuck any of ‘em bitches now.” You make a face at Barry’s words, not liking how he described you and the other girls. Usually he’d never say that in the presence of one of his “bitches”, but Rafe and Barry always brought out the worst in each other; their behavior much worse when they’re together.
“Wait, what?!” He asks, sitting up a bit before calming himself down. He leans back against the couch, trying to seem all nonchalant. “So, they’re hookers?” He questions more calmly as he looks over to you. You recall having to tell him you weren’t a hooker the last time you saw him. You scowl, hating that he’s trying to prove you wrong and rub it in.
“Hookers, bitches, call ‘em whatever you want. I should thank you for giving me the idea. I mean, do you have any idea how much money this is making me.” Barry boasts. “And miss pretty princess over here is our top money maker.” Barry gestures to you as you stand there, waiting for your chance to leave. “She brings in the most customers. Ain’t that right, darlin’?” You nod. Everytime Barry gets high, he doesn’t fucking shut up. Rafe just nods his head dryly, leaning down to snort another line of the white substance from the table.
You take this as your queue to leave and you walk out through the door and back into the main part of the club. You walk through the crowd and search for your client. Leaving Rafe with a few moments to think in silence before Barry starts yapping about all the guys you’ve been fucking. Rafe is fucking furious with this new addition to the club. He had never intended for Barry to take inspiration from his actions, he just needed you. And now anyone else who wants you, can have you. How is it that you could say that you don’t go home with guys often, and turn around and go fuck a bunch of guys for a living right after? Was he just another client to you? Rafe can’t take it anymore and decides to take action. He shoots up from his seat on the couch and storms after you.
As you’re walking, you feel a hand grip your arm and spin you around. You’re almost chest to chest with Rafe as he speaks down to you. “Where the hell are you going?”
“I have a client.” You explain, again.
“The fuck you mean ‘a client’?”
“You’re not the only one who’s willing to pay just to fuck me, Rafe.” You say coldly.
He chuckles, responding sarcastically as he stares down at you with his wide, dilated eyes. “Thought you never went home with random guys?”
“I didn’t. Until you gave Barry the idea of selling me out to strangers for a quick buck.”
Rafe sighs, his grip on your arm loosening. “That’s not what I wanted. I mean c’mon, you think I want other guys fucking you?”
The implication in his words shock you, but you try not to read too much into it. Before you get the chance to respond he lets go of your arm, letting out a deep breath and shaking his head. Without question, he pulls his wallet out from his pocket, flipping it open and looking up at you. “How much is he gonna pay?” You stare at him blankly, confused in what he’s doing. He huffs out a long breath shutting his eyes for a second before bringing one hand up to snap in your face, grabbing your attention. “The guy, your…” his hand waves around in the air, gesturing outwards as he momentarily stutters. “...Client, or whatever. How much was he going to pay you?” He speaks more slowly this time, as if you’re stupid or something.
“Depends.” You answer. The client you’re supposed to be meeting right now didn’t have an exact time planned, but you know how much he typically has the stamina for.
He purses his lips, shifting on his feet. “Ballpark.” He demands. His gaze darted between your eyes, constantly shifting to look at both.
Still confused, you hesitantly respond to his question, stuttering as you speak. “$800.” Immediately, he starts to count the money in his wallet, taking out the eight-hundred and then some. Rafe hands the cash out to you, but you don’t take it right away so he tucks it into the low cut neckline of your dress.
“There, now I take priority.” He takes hold of your arm again and drags you through the club and out into the parking lot. He walks you up to his truck, which you can now recognize. Rafe pulls the passenger door open for you and walks around to his side, climbing in and starting the engine. You know to get in, shutting the door behind you and buckling your seatbelt before looking over at him. Your stomach tightens as his eyes undress you. Rafe finally turns his head away, reaching over his shoulder to grab his seatbelt. Suddenly, it’s like the image registered in his brain and he whipped his head back to you, glaring at your thighs.
You noticed him staring at you, looking down into your lap. The super short dress you were wearing has ridden up, revealing the few hickeys that are spread over your inner thighs. His eyes find the others on your neck as well and he knows he wasn’t the one to leave them. You try to keep your customers from leaving hickeys and other marks in your body, but it’s like the more you tell them not to, the more they want to. It makes Rafe almost sick to his stomach when he thinks about kissing you with those marks; marks left on your skin from other men. He can’t stand it. Suddenly his mind is filled with images of you fucking other guys, he tries to shake out the thoughts but he can’t; they’re eating away at him. The two lines of cocaine from earlier not helping the situation, it only serves to intensify his anger.
As he drives he looks over at you. He starts to rant, his voice booming inside the small tuck cabin. “Bet they can’t make you cum four fuckin’ times in an hour, can they?” You only slightly jump when he startles you with the increasing volume of his voice. “They can’t fuckin’ touch you like I can, huh?” He glances at the road shortly, then he turns his head back to you. “Nobody makes you feel as good as I do, yeah?” He waits for a response.
You catch the hint. “Mhm…yeah.” You nod, chewing on your bottom lip.
When you get to Tanneyhill, Rafe comes to an abrupt stop in his driveway. He wastes no time before getting out of the truck and rounding the front of it to get to your side. Rafe pulls the passenger seat door open, grabbing ahold of your arm again. He tugs you inside, shutting the door behind you two.
As soon as you hear the door shut, his lips are finding yours and attacking them. In the moment, he decides that his bedroom upstairs is too far and he takes you into the kitchen. He continues to kiss you, walking you backwards until your lower hips bump into the counter; in which he grabs your waist and lifts you up to sit on the counter. One of his hands finds its way underneath your dress and between your legs. In quick movements, he tugs your lacy thong down and off of your body. Once they hit the floor, he’s pulling your legs apart; forcing them to spread wide so that you’re exposed and accessible to him. Your pussy grows wet in anticipation of what he’s going to do to you; which is something that none of the other men have been able to make you feel.
Rafe brushes a light hand over your cunt, groaning into your mouth as he discovers how wet you are for him. Not some random guy at the club, but him. He continues to kiss you, swallowing the small moans that try and escape your lips. His hands move to his belt, working on getting it off. Once it’s off, he pulls his jeans down and steps out of them; only breaking the kiss once. The next thing to go in his boxers; he slides them down and lets them pool at his ankles.
With absolutely no warning or further preparation, Rafe slams into you. You choke out a moan, tilting your head back. Rafe starts to kiss the sensitive spot behind your ear just so that your cunt can squeeze around him even tighter as he jackhammers into you. “Fuuck…so tight.” He groans. “Did anyone else fuck you like this, hm? Did anyone else’s cock stretch you out like this?” He growls into your ear. His hand snakes around to the back of your head, gathering all your hair and tugging your head back so that you were looking at him. “That was a fucking question. Fucking answer.” He demands.
“I…”, you cry out as his cock repeatedly hits the extra sensitive spot deep inside you. A spot that nobody else can reach like how he does. “N-no…just you.”
“Just me, what?” He continues, enjoying your struggle to form words as he fucks you at this pace.
“Just you can fuck me like this.” You admit. You’re not even saying it because he wants you to, but because you can honestly say that nobody’s ever fucked you like how he’s fucked you.
“Good girl.” He praises. He runs a hand through your hair and slows his speed to a very slow, careful pace, admiring your features as your face contorts with pleasure. After about a minute, his hand finds your clit, his fingers rubbing harsh circles as his thrusts speed up to an unbearable pace again. He places a hand on your chest, pushing you down so that you’re laying with your back flat on the counter.
The cold counter adds to the intense feeling. He pauses for a moment to pull your shiny, little dress up past your hips to keep it out of the way. When he continues, he’s drilling into you faster than before, giving you the last bit of his anger through his thrusts. Your back begins to arch off the counter, legs wrapping around his waist tightly. And just as you’re about to see stars, Rafe pulls out of you and steps back, pulling his boxers back up from his ankles.
An involuntary whine escapes your lips when his touch leaves you and you sit up on your elbows, trying to figure out why he stopped. Except he doesn’t say anything, he just lifts you up, carrying you upstairs and into his bedroom.
When you get into his room, he sets you down just before the bed. “Shit, I almost forgot.” He mumbles. You furrow your brows and follow his gaze to his bed. On his bed sits a small gift box. You look back at him to find him staring at you. “Open it.” The demands, his tone almost displaying a small trace of excitement.
You look back at the box, taking a few steps closer to the bed. You reach out to flip over the small tag on the box, it reads: ‘To: my favorite hooker’. Your breath hitches. He’s so frustrating with his persistence of using that word, ‘hooker’, when he knows you aren’t one. Well, you didn’t used to be one. But you have to admit, this seems almost…sweet, in a way. Sweet for Rafe anyhow. You fight back your smile as you reach both hands out, carefully lifting the lid off of the box, setting it on the bed. Inside the box lay some very beautiful, intricate lingerie; it’s clearly very expensive, judging on the fact that you can’t even pronounce the brand name.
Rafe explains, “For what I ripped last time. I told you I’d replace it.”
“You did.” You say, getting lost in his eyes for perhaps a moment too long.
“Take it out.” He instructs and you obey, taking the delicate lingerie out of the gift box. Underneath the set, you find another gift. A vibrating wand as well as some thick ribbon. The vibrator you understand, the ribbon…not so much. You hold some of it up, turning to face him as if asking ‘what’s this for?’. Rafe understands what you’re asking and he responds vaguely. “You’ll see.” Clearly he enjoys keeping you on your toes, and you hate it.
After changing into your new lingerie, you exit his bathroom and walk towards his bed. Quickly he has you laying on your back. He takes some ribbon from the box and straddles your waist leaning over you as he ties each of your wrists to a separate bed post. He then did the same with your feet. Now you’re all tied up for him, spread out on the bed and vulnerable.
He leans down, hovering over you. He starts to kiss all over your body, his lips finding any open spot of skin on you. He pauses his kisses for a moment, leaning back up enough to look at you. He tells you, “Don’t wear this at the club.” Rafe leans in, pressing a quick kiss to your chest. “This is for me, yeah?” He mumbles, giving you yet another kiss. “My eyes only.” you nod in response, you agree. This is way too expensive to be wearing to the club.
“Yes, yes, only you.” You desperately plead.
Rafe chuckles and starts to kiss down your body, He makes a momentary stop at your chest, mouthing over one of your nipples through the thin fabric, his fingers rolling your other nipple between his fingers. His actions elicit a loud moan to escape your lips as your body tenses up, struggling against the restraints. You now understand the ribbon. Last time, he had used rope to tie you up and it would painfully dig into your skin. But the ribbon was soft, not causing pain to be inflicted upon you as your body reacts to his actions. His mouth leaves your breast, moving to the other side, ensuring that it wasn’t left out. His hand also switches to pinch at your other nipple.
His mouth starts to travel down your body again as his hand reaches behind him on the bed to grab something. He mouths over your clothed cunt, making you whine and shiver underneath him; still sensitive from when he had teased you earlier on the kitchen counter.
You hear a vibrating sound, but before your brain could register what it is, he’s using the new vibrator he bought for you, on you. He presses it firmly against your clit through the fabric of your panties. Your arms tug at the restraints in response, your legs trying, and failing to close. You feel so vulnerable, so exposed and weak. Lying here helpless as he assaults your small bundle of nerves.
Rafe pulls your panties to the side, revealing your dripping cunt. He pushes the vibrator directly on your clit, sending a jolt of electricity through your body at the sensation. “F-fuck!” You cry, your abdominal muscles contracting as your eyes squeeze shut and your toes curl. Rafe leans in, using his tongue to lap up the juices that drip from your slick entrance as he keeps the vibrator steady on your most sensitive part. “Rafe!” You scream his name out as you cum, finally seeing the stars you were denied earlier, the build-up making it that much more intense.
He pulls the vibrator away, only using his tongue to work you down from your high. When your body starts to relax more, he stops and moves back up your body. He sets the vibrator aside and kisses at your neck, leaving new marks of his own; darker and larger than the others.
You’re still in shock at Rafe’s decision to use a toy on you. You definitely weren’t mad about it, that’s for sure. It’s just that typical guys won’t want to use a vibrator on you because they want to prove they’re better all by themselves. Rafe’s definitely good at sex, that’s just a given fact. But the confidence he has to use a vibrator on you, mixed with his skill…he’s fucking incomparable.
Rafe unties your wrists, letting your arms fall and relax. Next he moves to untie the ribbon that ties your feet to the bed. Once you’re completely free, he gives you a moment, knowing how tiring that was for your body. He knows you need to recover if he wants to get more orgasms from you tonight.
Though you appreciate his generosity, you want to help him out too. So you take him by surprise by placing your hand over his hard cock through his boxers. Except he still manages to be the one surprising you when he speaks. “Fuck…that feels…s’so good baby.” He groans, but moves your hand off his dick. “But let me take care of you, yeah? I know Barry’s got you workin’ a lot, hm? Heard you’ve got the most customers, is that right?” He asks, his hands starting to squeeze and massage at you calves
“Mhm…” you agree, closing your eyes in relaxation.
Rafe’s hands move to massage your feet, knowing the tall heels you’re always wearing have to be causing you some discomfort. And he knows he assumed correctly when you let out a deep sigh at his touch. “Nobody ever takes care of you, hm? Always just taking what they want and giving you nothing?” He leans in closer to your ear and whispers, “I like taking care of you.” Rafe starts to nip softly at your ear, making you moan softly.
After a while, his hands leave your feet, moving back up your body. He gently pulls off the lingerie, setting it on the bed beside you two. He takes a moment to revel in the sight of you, taking in what he is lucky enough to have in front of him. One of his hands finds its way to your slimy folds, gently running over your entrance. He gathers some of your slick and brings it up to your clit as he begins to rub it in steady, slow circles.
Finally, he pulls his boxers off. He uses his other hand to hold himself at the base, gently stroking himself a few times as he looks down at you underneath him. Without much more preparation, he pushes himself inside of you. This time, he moves slowly. His mind isn;t clouded from the effects of cocaine and anger anymore, instead he just wants to help you feel good. He wants to take him time, even though you’re likely not going to last long after your previous orgasm.
“Shit, so fuckin’ wet f’me. You’re always so wet for me, hm? Such a good girl. Such a good fuckin’ girl.” He groans, his mouth right next to your ear so you can clearly hear all his praises. “M’gonna have to talk to Barry for you. Can’t have you fuckin’ those other guys anymore. This pussy’s for me; it’s mine.” His speed gets faster, his pace more erratic as you get closer, your cunt squeezing around him tighter; ultimately bringing him closer to finishing as well. “Hm? You hear me?”
“Mhm…” you nod eagerly, getting so close to cumming that you can barely form a complete thought. “Y-yes Rafe. Yours, fuck! Yours.”
He gathers all your hair, tugging on it so that your neck cocks back, giving him full access to mark it up. He leaves wet, sloppy kisses all over your neck; sucking and biting at your skin. “Only a slut for me, right? Nobody else, not anymore.”
“Yes…sure, fuck, okay yeah!” You scream. The recognizable feeling of your stomach tightening just for the band to snap, making your back arch off the bed, pushing your body against his as you reach another orgasm. “Ohh…nngghh…f-fucking shit!” You curse, your hand clawing at his shirt, trying to take it off. Rafe understands what you need and does it for you.
It’s not long before he gets to his peak with the way you keep squeezing him; so wet that he just slips right in and out. But before he cums, he asks you a final question. “Can I?”,is all he says but it’s enough for you to know what it is that he’s asking. He’s already done it before, so you don’t see the problem, especially not right now. You don’t even have it in you to say no even if it was what you wanted,
“Mhm…please. Please cum inside me, Rafe. I-I need it.” You admit.
Without wasting another second, Rafe’s movements slow down as he releases his load in you; painting your walls white with his cum. You could feel his warm seed spilling out of you, mixing with your sticky juices. When he pulls out, you feel empty. Your lonely cunt left clenching around nothing.
Rafe lies down beside you, wrapping his arms around you. You never had taken Rafe for much of a cuddler, but he’s full of surprises tonight. You return the action, wrapping your arms around him and draping a leg over him.
After you’ve both had time to recover, you still just lie there, enjoying each other's silent company. But you finally decide to break the silence between you two. “Y’know, I have to admit that it is kinda nice to be with someone who can get it up without taking pills.” You joke truthfully, referring to all the old sugar daddies that pay for your services.
Rafe chuckles at your words. He wants to say ‘I told you so’, to prove that he knew nobody else made you feel the same as he did, but fights the urge. Instead he just laughs. “Oh, I bet.”
“Did…did you mean what you said about talking to Barry?” You ask on a more serious note.
Rafe looks at you, admiring your soft, tired, fucked-out expression as he runs a gentle hand through your hair. “Oh yeah, yeah. I can talk to him if you want. He usually listens to me.”
“And if he doesn’t?” You ask.
“Then I’ll make him.” He reassures you, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “I started this, I’m gonna fix it, okay? So don’t worry. You ain’t gotta fuck nobody you don’t wanna no more, yeah? How’s that sound?”
“Thank you.” You mumble to him, your eyes starting to get heavy and droop shut.
“I hope that means you’ll still fuck me.” He teases, petting your soft hair as he watches you.
You just nod, too exhausted to engage in his jokes. Rafe just smiles softly, appreciating the fact that he has you all sleepy in his bed; his arms. Of all the time he spent watching you and admiring you at the club, he never was able to imagine this moment.
He presses one final kiss to your head before closing his own eyes, pulling you in tighter. “I’ll take you back tomorrow, that alright?”
“Mhm…” You mumble under your breath, already half asleep.
“Goodnight.” He whispers, pulling the covers over the two of you.
Thank you for reading! I greatly appreciate it! PLEASE feel free to leave Rafe x reader requests!! I LOVE getting them!
Again, sorry if this is bad. I'm so tired and too lazy/impatient to proofread/edit. I hope this is good enough to fulfill your request!
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