#i just want to remain curled up in my bed with the lights off. is that too much to ask for

[heylorrain]

🔞 MDNI 🔞

Words: 8,080 Tags: Ominis x F!Reader x Sebastian - Explicit - Characters are aged up

Thanks to my smut sensei @butternutt613, without you, this entire o.s wouldn't have been possible!

💓 Available on Ao3 with the full image 💓

Studying charms had become your downfall. Despite a week of studying, the information just wouldn't stick. Sebastian promised to help after Quidditch practice like the good boyfriend he was, but you knew he would take his time, so you decided to wait for him at his dorm. When you entered, Ominis was there unexpectedly, catching you both off guard. 

“Oh shit, I’m so sorry Ominis I-”

“No! No I should’ve…locked the door?” Ominis choked out with an awkward giggle. 

Every interaction with Ominis was fraught with tension and unspoken business. From the accidental brush of hands while walking to class, to his head resting on your shoulder in History of Magic, each moment only fueled the growing heat between you. But it all came down during the Amortentia lesson in Potion’s class, when Sebastian discovered that Ominis had smelled your scent in his potion. In a fit of jealousy, Sebastian became overprotective, and Ominis remained silent about his true feelings for you. The tension between all three of you was palpable now that everything was out in the open.

“I should probably go” Your stomach twisted into a tight, throbbing knot as your eyes raked over Ominis stretched out on his bed. 

His pants hung low on his hips, teasing just a hint of that V-line that made your mouth water. He was a masterpiece, and the way he laid there—languid, inviting, and oblivious to the storm he was stirring in your mind—was maddening.

“No!” - He lost his composure for a second there -“ I mean you don’t have to… you can, stay.” He said in a low voice. “I- I don’t think that’s a good idea” 

You couldn’t deny the fire raging inside you for him—the way his pale skin seemed to glow in the dim light, the way his gaze somehow looked through you as if he could see every filthy thought you were trying to hide. He was a paradox—gentle yet commanding, innocent yet so sinful. But Sebastian’s name flashed in your mind like a warning sign. You couldn't deny the intense feelings you had for Ominis, but you also couldn't betray Sebastian by acting on them…could you?

“Why?” Ominis asked, tilting his head. “Why isn’t it a good idea?” 

His hand twitched on the bedspread as he sat on the edge of it, fingers curling into the fabric like he was holding himself back from reaching out to you. You wanted those hands on you—needed them. You imagined them sliding up your thighs, gripping your hips, pulling you down onto his lap until you were grinding against his coc-

STOP IT! Focus. Answer him.

You swallowed hard, your voice shaking as you struggled to form a coherent sentence. 

“Be-Because of Sebastian. Because...” Your words trailed off as Ominis stood up slowly, his movements deliberate and hypnotic. "It's nothing," You added quickly, avoiding his gaze at all costs now. He was blind, blind but not fucking stupid.

“Tell me, I know you, I can tell something is bothering you.” He towered over you, his fists clenched at his sides, every muscle in his body taut with restraint. You could see it, feel it—the way he was holding himself back. “If you’re not going to, then, I’m afraid I have a confession to make”. 

He leaned closer and whispered in your ear. Every nerve on your body froze in place, adrenaline pumping through your veins. You held your breath, unable to move or speak as he revealed his darkest desires and secrets.The potion class had triggered something within you both, something that had been buried deep beneath the surface until that moment. 

His minty breath washed over your face like a drug, making your lips twitch and your lungs ache for air. You hadn’t realized you’d been holding your breath until your chest heaved, drawing in the intoxicating scent of him. 

When he finished his confession, your eyes finally locked with his, burning with shock and realization that you both were now on the same page.  

His lips were so close, you could almost taste them, and it took every shred of your willpower not to lunge forward. With clumsy fingers, you closed the door shut and frantically turned the lock, sealing you both in the dorm.

“Are you even aware of what you just admitted, Gaunt?”. You knew there was no turning back now. Not ever. 

“I am. But I’m afraid I can’t help it. It’s like a spell, a curse, that I can’t break.”

“A curse ?” You repeated. 

Fine, if he thought you as a curse, a curse you were going to be. 

Your body was acting on its own now. He should’ve known the consequences of his actions, should’ve known that his words would unravel you. 

“Is it a curse to love me then?”

He tried to slink away, his back hitting the wall like a cornered animal, but you weren’t having it. Not now, not when the air between you crackled like electricity. 

Fuck. This. Shit. 

You closed the gap, your hands sliding down his sides. Your fingers dug into the soft curve of his ass, molding into the back pockets of his pants. 

He leaned his head back against the wall, feeling you, his breathing becoming a bit more ragged. He could feel the warmth of your hands in his pockets, and the proximity between you two made his heart race. He closed his eyes, and spoke between breaths.

“It’s no curse loving you,” he whispered, his voice thick with lust. “But it’s a fucking curse knowing I could never have you.”

“But here we are,” you purred “inches apart, and still you resist me. Are you afraid of being cursed?”

His body tensed, every muscle coiled like a spring ready to snap. His hands had been gripping the wall behind him. His chest fell up and down more rapidly with the ragged rhythm of a man teetering on the edge of self-control. Your hands traveled all the way up until they reached the hem of his collar, and the way he groaned—low, guttural, desperate—said it all.

“I-I’m not afraid of being cursed. I’m afraid of …myself, of what I might do if you keep doing this to me” He rasped.

His eyes, now dark and hungry, locked onto yours, they were wild, "like a predator stalking it's prey"- fuck no. You weren’t a prey. You were the goddamn hunter, and he was yours.

“I’m not afraid of you, Gaunt…” Your fingers moved with deliberate slowness, unbuttoning his shirt one torturous button at a time. Each pop of fabric felt like an explosion, and his body jerked like he’d been electrocuted.

“We shouldn’t be doing this”

“But here we are…” 

Your lips hovered just inches apart from his, the temptation to give in to sin became nearly unbearable for either of you.

“Kiss me” You commanded. 

His resolve snapped like a cheap rubber band. He crashed his lips against yours in a kiss so deep, so possessive, it felt like he was trying to mark you from the inside out. His tongue invaded your mouth, slick and desperate, mapping every inch of your warmth like he owned it. And you knew he fucking did. His hands were everywhere, greedy, roaming your torso, your curves, your skin. He squeezed your waist like he wanted to leave bruises, his fingers digging into your flesh like he was trying to carve his digits on you. He’d spent too many nights jacking off to the thought of this moment, and now that he had you, he wasn’t going to waste a single goddamn second.

His cock strained against the fabric of his trousers, throbbing with every breath you took against his lips. But your inner devil wanted to play more games before things went further. You pulled back just enough to make him growl, your lips wet from his kiss. You wrapped your arms around his neck, your nails scraping lightly against his skin as you tangled your fingers in his hair. You yanked his head back just enough to make him groan.

“Sebastian kisses me better” you teased.

His hands tightened on your hips, pulling you flush against him so you could feel exactly what you were doing to him.

“Is that so?” he said, a tint of jealousy in his tone “You prefer his kisses?” His hands slid down to your ass, gripping you like he was trying to remind you who you really belonged to.

“I can’t recall… let me taste you again” You smirked, the fucking devil incarnated.

He leaned in again, capturing your lips in another kiss. His tongue sought entrance into your mouth, swirling with yours as you eagerly opened up to him. The taste of you on his lips was exquisite, and your teasing only fueled his desire. 

“More” You moaned. 

That was it. 

He growled into your mouth, not some soft, romantic purr but a deep, primal rumble that vibrated through your lips and straight down to your core. His hands slid under your shirt, cupping your tits like it was his birthright, squeezing them hard enough to make you moan.

Ominis pushed you harder against the door, placing his knee between your legs and forcing you into a sitting position. Your hand lazily traveled down his chest, then down his stomach, lower they went, down to the waistband of his pants, where the outline of his cock strained against the fabric, throbbing with a need so intense it was almost painful. But you, let your hand hover there, taunting him. Your fingers grazed the tip of his shaft through the material, and you heard him groan in anticipation, before you pulled away completely, ignoring it, teasingly denying him what he so desperately craved.

“W-why—” 

“You’re still holding back, Ominis. You are not getting it until I say so” You muttered in his ear.

But little did you know, he could play the same game. Fuck, he could even play it better than you. 

He paused for a moment. His fingers traced a path from your knee, skimming over your thigh with a touch so light it made your skin prickle with goosebumps. Down your skirt, deeper he went, his hand cupping your ass for a moment, squeezing hard enough to make you gasp before he moved on. His fingers danced across your inner thigh, tracing circular patterns that made your legs tremble, until they finally reached the soaked fabric of your panties. You flinched, trying weakly to escape the caress that had already happened.

“Is that so?” He purred with satisfaction, leaning into your neck. “I was holding back for your own good, but now it’s obvious what you really want.” He said before biting into your jugular. 

Oh, how the tables had turned for you. 

“I warned you,” Ominis growled, taking his time to keep ghosting over your entrance, still tamed by a piece of cloth. “but you wouldn’t listen.” He carefully pulled it to the side and spread your legs wider, fully exposing you. You whimpered at his warm touch, feeling your pussy clenching around nothing, begging for his touch. “You never listen”.

With a feather-light caress, he hovered his thumb gently over your clit, almost touching it, causing you to pathetically moan louder in anticipation of what you thought was coming next. 

“Oh? Needy are we?” He chuckled.

But just as quickly as he’d exposed you, he let the fabric snap back into place, the soft cotton brushing against your clit and making you whine. You couldn’t stand the sight of him over you any longer. He had barely touched you and you’d succumbed so easily. You thought you had him under control, but it turned out to be the other way around. 

Your hips bucked instinctively, desperate for more.

“You want me to touch you?” He taunted, his tone dripping with mockery. 

But the words stick in your mouth like thick honey, unable to escape. He grabbed your throat gently, carefully tightening his grip around you, feeling your pulse under his fingertips. Understanding you needed a little push, his fingers roamed back to your core, doing the same ritual he had performed only a few seconds ago. 

“Ss-sspeak.” He commanded.

“Please,” you choked out, your hips grinding. “Please, touch me.”

He chuckled darkly, his fingers final-fucking-ly caressing your entrance, gathering your slick and spreading it over your lips, teasing you until you were practically sobbing. Then, he pushed one finger inside you in one swift motion.

You gasped, your walls clamping down around him. Your slick coated his finger, making every thrust glide in and out of your tight core easier each time. The sound of your musky arousal was painfully loud to you. But for him, it was music to his ears. You opened your eyes and whined loudly, crumbling like sand, little by little under his touch, and he was enjoying every second of it. 

“I bet you look beautiful when you’re like this” Ominis devoured you with his beautiful eyes, looking you dead in the eye as he introduced a second finger in you.

Your body betrayed every ounce of need coursing through your veins.He continued to work you, unhurried, taking his time feeling every shiver your body made when his fingers fucked you, slow and steady, his rhythm maddening. Your clit throbbed, begging for attention, and you couldn’t help but grind against his palm, fucking yourself on his hand.

“You’re such a mess, darling” He teased, his breath hot against your ear. “But you love this, don’t you? Taking my fingers like the good girl you are, writhing around like you can’t get enough.”

You couldn’t even form a coherent response—your brain was mush, your entire body on fire. Your hands clawed at his shirt, desperate for more of him. He didn’t stop you. Your fingertips crawled under the fabric when he fastened his tempo on you.

“Please…” You whimpered. You didn’t even know what you were begging for—his cock? His tongue? More of those fucking fingers that were deliciously destroying you from the inside out? All you knew was that you needed him, needed more, and if he didn’t give it to you soon, you were going to lose your goddamn mind.

Your cries were muffled by his palm, but your body was screaming for him, your hips bucking against his hand as you almost reached your peak. But a knock on the door made you both stop.

“Ominis? Are you in there?” Sebastian asked.

The sound of Sallow’s voice was like a bucket of ice water being thrown at both of you. Ominis froze, his fingers buried knuckle-deep in your cunt. The slick, obscene sound of them sliding out of you was almost as loud as your sharp gasp. You could feel your juices trickling down your thighs, hot and sticky, as his fingers finally left you empty. His hold on you loosened, making your feet find the ground. He rested his forehead against yours, his breath coming in heavy and fast rasps.

“Answer him” You whispered.

“Yess-ss…” He forced out the words, dragging them like a snake's hiss. His annoyance at being interrupted only heightened the tension in his voice. 

Sebastian’s voice came again, a loud whisper. “Ominis, I swear to Merlin, if you’re jerking off in there—”

But the sound of other voices echoed throughout the corridor, indicating that Sebastian was being distracted by other students, meaning you’d have time to hide… or think of another solution. 

Right?

Wrong.

You were drowning in Ominis Gaunt, your head swimming with the thick, intoxicating scent of his body, your mind haze-drunk on the forbidden. Your trembling fingers fumbled clumsily at the last button of his shirt. It popped free, and there it was—his chest, a landscape of goosebumps rising under your greedy gaze. His breath hitched, his cock already straining again and again against his pants, begging for release. 

“This is wrong, so wrong...” he muttered.

But his words were hypocritical, a pathetic attempt to gain his restraint back. His hands were already on you, yanking your shirt up and over your head like a man possessed. The fabric hit the floor, and there you were—bare, exposed, your tits bouncing free, your nipples hard and begging for his mouth. He closed his eyes and inhaled, he wanted to devour you whole, and of course, you wanted him to.

His hands hovered over your chest, trembling, hesitant, like he was scared of the power he had over you. But then his fingers brushed your nipples, and fuck, the spark that shot through you was almost deathly. You bit your lip to stifle the moan, but it was a losing battle. 

His teeth sank into your shoulder, his hands digging into your sides hard. You shivered, but he held you down, his body pinning yours. His tongue dragged a wet trail from your shoulder to your collarbone. He moved lower, his mouth closing over one of your tits. His tongue grazing your nipple. He bit down gently, then harder, and the pain melted into pleasure, your skin burning where his mouth had been.

“Shh,” he growled, slapping a hand over your mouth before you could scream. But it was too late—your moan spilled into his palm, muffled but still filthy, the sound of pure desperation.

“So, you are busy then?” Sebastian's insistence grated on Ominis' nerves. He stopped paying you attention and got closer to the door.

“I am not- WhatdoyouwantSebass-sstian?” He snapped

"Oh? Not busy then?" You whispered with a smirk.

Your hands roamed down this stomach until they found exactly where he needed you the most. Your fingers danced over the waistband of his pants, teasing the lace ties that kept his cock hidden away. Ominis’ body betrayed him, his cheeks flushing a deep, sinful red as he tried—half-heartedly to swat your hands away.

“Don’t you d—” he started, but the words dissolved into a choked moan as you yanked the lace free, his cock springing out with a hungry, throbbing eagerness.

“Fuck,” he hissed, his breath hitching as you dropped to your knees before him.

It was a pure and sinful invitation: veins pulsing and pre-cum glistening at the tip. You didn’t waste time. Your hands wrapped around his cock, fingers clumsily exploring the heat and hardness of him, feeling the way his cock twitched in your hand, desperate for more.

“Then if I come in, I wouldn’t be interrupting anything, right?” Sebastian insisted.

Ominis’ grip on the doorframe tightened, his knuckles turning white as he fought to keep his voice steady.

“No” he managed to answer, but the word was brittle, already cracking under the pressure.

“No?” you teased, your tongue darting out to taste the head of his cock, tasting the salt of his arousal.

His flavor was intoxicating, you couldn’t get enough. You wrapped your lips around him slowly, taking him inch by inch into your mouth, your tongue swirling around the sensitive underside of his shaft. Ominis’ breath hitched, a low, guttural groan escaping him as he gripped your hair, his fingers tangling in the strands with a possessive urgency.

“Actually, yess-ss you are interrupting.” Ominis stammered, his voice trembling as he tried to maintain the illusion of control. But you weren’t about to let him pretend.

Your hands roamed lower, tugging at his pants until they hit the floor in a crumpled heap, leaving him completely bare before you. His skin was pale and smooth, marked by a couple of moles spread like constellations over him and the faint trails of your nails as they dug into his thighs, leaving red scratches in their wake. He didn’t seem to mind—in fact, he seemed to fucking revel in it, his hips bucking forward as you took him deeper into your mouth. His grip on your hair tightened, guiding your head back and forth with a slow, deliberate rhythm that had him biting down on his lip. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room—wet, filthy, and utterly obscene.

Ominis’ eyes fluttered shut, his head thudding against the door as he lost himself in the sensation. His thumb brushed over your lips, smearing the spit that dripped down your chin, feeling with his hands on your cheeks, his cock fucking your mouth with slow, shallow thrusts.

But just as you began to drink in the full, glorious image of him—his cock slick and swollen fucking you, his body trembling with need—he closed your eyes with a gentle caress of his hand, his thumb resting on the edge of your mouth, feeling the friction of his cock in you.

The wet sounds of your lips wrapped around him grew louder, more frantic, and Ominis’ control was slipping fast. His hips jerked forward, his cock hitting the back of your throat in a way that had you gagging, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. But he didn’t care—he didn’t fucking care. All that mattered was the way your mouth felt around him, the way your throat tightened as he pushed himself deeper, the way your hands clawed at his thighs like you were desperate for something to hold onto.

“Ominis?” Sebastian’s voice was sharper now, more insistent. “Are you with... someone?”

“I-I’m relaxx-xxing…okay?” Ominis said between his teeth. 

He was having you on a golden platter. Just for him. And he was starving. His hand fisted in your hair, slowly yanking you onto his dick. You squint one eye open, catching a glimpse of his abs flexing, his hips driving deeper, harder, until your nose pressed into his base. The sound of a soft pop broke the trance as he pulled his slick cock from your mouth, leaving a shimmering thread of spit dangling between your swollen lips and him.

"You're such a good girl" he growled in approval. His fingers traced your jawline, smearing spit across your cheek as he smirked down at you. “But let’s not forget—ladies first.”

He helped you up, not giving you time to react when he hooked his fingers in the waistband of your panties, tugging them down slowly, leaving you only with your skirt on. He pressed you against the door, teeth sinking into the back of your neck. He hissed against your ear, something you didn’t understand in Parselmouth.

“I said, bend for me ” He commanded.

You felt his hand pressing down on your back, forcing you to arch and present your ass to him like an offering. You reached behind you, desperate to feel the heat of his cock, but Sebastian interrupted again. 

“Ominis, open the fucking door!” 

Sallow was getting impatient, you could tell, and it was a matter of time before he casted Alohomora on the lock. You immediately stood straight, sick and tired of being interrupted over and over again.You turned to Ominis, breaking the moment for him, who was already kneeled. He looked angrily at you, like if you’d interrupted his meal… And well, you kinda did. 

FOR FUCKS SAKE. 

Can’t a girl just get a pleasent fuck in peace?

You opened the door boldly, just to find Sebastian with his ear pressed against the door. He froze in surprise as you quickly pulled him inside, closing the door behind you. 

Ominis remained on his knees, motionless and stunned. Did you just open the door to Sebastian, mid-fuck?.

“There, happy?!” You said, but it quickly dawned on you what you’ve just done. 

Well, shit.

After the longest awkward silence ever, Sebastian finally reacted. 

"I knew it! I knew it," He began to panic, his hand running frantically through his hair. The glint of tears glistened in his eyes as a feeling of betrayal consumed him. "I knew you were both going to do this to me sooner or later. I knew you'd betray me. How could you do this to me? I've done nothing to deserve this." Tears streamed down his face.

But there was something about seeing Ominis slim naked body for the first time that made Sebastian unable to take his eyes off of him when the blonde stood up from the floor. And then, there was you—knees dirty, thighs slick with sweat and finger marks, and your hair all disheveled. He tried to brush off the strange feeling that had started building on his chest. It was betrayal, yes, but also something more.

“Relaxing, Ominis? Fucking relaxing?” Sebastian spat, his voice dripping with sarcasm, his eyes flickering between Ominis and you “Did you two—?”

“No,” you cut him off, but your voice was shaky, breathless.

Not yet…

But Sebastian wasn’t buying it. Not for a second.

“How long has this been going on?” Sebastian’s voice was low, as he dropped onto the nearest bed, his thighs spreading slightly. His pants strained against the bulge that was already pushing against the zipper. He shouldn’t be this turned on, could he? He should be furious, raging at the betrayal of watching you and Ominis together. But all he felt was heat—a molten desire that coiled in his gut.

“Just today,” Ominis answered, his voice steady, calm, like he wasn’t standing there with his dick out and his lips still swollen from kissing you.

Fuck, even his voice was enough to make Sebastian’s breath hitch.

“Just today,” Sebastian repeated, his tone mocking.

He shifted uncomfortably, trying to cross his legs to hide the massive tent in his pants, but it was no use. The outline of his cock was obvious, straining against the green pattern trousers, throbbing with every beat of his heart. His breath came in short, sharp bursts, and his hands clenched into fists at his sides to keep from reaching out and grabbing you both.

He shouldn’t want this. He shouldn’t. But goddamn, the sight of you two together—naked, sweaty, and still catching your breath—was enough to make his head spin. Sebastian’s stomach twisted, not with anger, but with a hunger so fucking raw it might as well have been feral.

Ominis stepped closer. He knew his best friend too well to not get the silent hint. “You’re enjoying this,” he said, his voice low and teasing. It wasn’t a question.

Sebastian’s jaw clenched, but he couldn’t deny it.

“Shut up,” he growled, but there was no bite to it. His hands twitched, itching to touch, to grab, to claim.

And then Ominis did something that made Sebastian’s brain short-circuit. He dropped to his knees in front of him, his hands resting on Sebastian’s thighs. He looked up at him through his blonde lashes.

“You smelled us both in your Amortentia potion didn’t you?,” Ominis purred, his breath hot against his crotch. “That’s why you’ve been so defensive and… jealous.”

You moved closer to them, finally understanding everything. Your fingers glided through their hair with deliberate intent, locking eyes with Sebastian. More tears clinging to his dark lashes, betraying the turmoil within him as he struggled to accept the desire that burned inside him. 

“Cinnamon and mint” He confessed in a low whisper.

He looked at you with watery eyes, and clumsily, unzipped your skirt. He kissed your lower belly, taking in your sweet scent.

You caressed his cheek as you sat behind him, your fingers deftly navigated the buttons of his shirt, each pop echoing like a thunderclap of liberation. As the fabric slipped away, his freckled back emerged, vulnerable and exposed. You enveloped him in an embrace, the press of your chest against his back a soothing balm to his chaotic soul. He exhaled deeply, surrendering to the raw emotions he had finally acknowledged. His head fell back with a groan, resting on your shoulder, his fingers tangling in Ominis’ hair as the blonde worked quickly to free Sebastian’s cock from its confines.

“Close your eyes, darling” You whispered in his ear as your palms caressed his eyelids, closing them, then proceeded to roamed his body, all the way to the base of his cock.

Ominis wrapped his lips around the tip, swirling his tongue around the sensitive head before sinking down further.

Sebastian was fucking gone. He didn’t know where he ended and you two began. His hips jerked upward as Ominis worked him, and his breath was caught on his throat at your hands, one on his groin, and the other one around his neck, tightening little by little with each thrust his hips did. 

“You’re so warm” Sebastian exhaled breathlessly. “You feel so good, so fucking good”

“Just enjoy this, Sebs,” You muttered as your hand wrapped around his throat “and be a good boy” 

A cry rolled from his lips as Ominis fastened his tempo on him, his hands roaming his thighs, pulling him deeper into him. 

“I’m gonna cum. Stop…” Sebastian pleaded. “Stop”

“Manners, Sebastian?” You whispered.

Ominis pulled away with a loud pop, but his hand quickly replaced his mouth and kept working him. 

“Well?” Ominis insisted.

“P-Please” When Sebastian said the magic word, Ominis then stopped. 

“Good boy” Ominis praised before crawling into the bed with you, where you both guided Sebastian to join you. 

You positioned yourself between the two of them, so that you could reach both of their mouths with yours. You pulled Ominis into a primal kiss, your tongues tangling together as he moaned into your mouth, your hands gripping his hair as he devoured you. His hands were everywhere, gripping your hips, sliding up your sides, cupping your tits like he wanted to eat you whole.

At the same time, you took Sebastian's hands and guided them to your breasts as well, encouraging him to explore your body however he liked, moaning as he cupped them, his rough fingers toying with your nipples, pinching them just hard enough to make you gasp against Ominis’ lips. His cock throbbed against your back, leaving a sticky trail of precum on your skin as you ground yourself against him involuntarily. You could feel his tongue on your neck, his teeth sinking into your flesh, sucking and biting.

Then, you grabbed Ominis’ hand and guided it to Sebastian’s neck, giving Sebastian the green light to finally kiss the man he’d been craving. And thank the gods you did. 

Their lips met in a kiss so hot it should’ve set the room on fire. Their tongues tangled, slick and desperate, their cocks pressing against you from both sides, front and back, like they were trying to carve you with their hardness. You reached down and wrapped your hands around their cocks. They were both so hard it felt like steel in your grip. Precum dripped from their tips as you started stroking them—slowly, painfully slowly—spreading their slickness up and down their shafts, your fingers sliding over every vein and ridge. Ominis moaned into Sebastian’s mouth, his hips bucking into your hand, while Sebastian’s breath hitched.

You were the fucking conductor of this depraved symphony, your body writhing between them, your hands working their cocks with a rhythm that had them both on the edge of losing it. You could feel Ominis’ cock throbbing in your grip, his breath coming in ragged gasps, while Sebastian’s hips were jerking uncontrollably. 

When you felt they were about to reach their peak, you stopped. Therefore, they did too, panting and regaining their senses. You shifted to face Sebastian, his lips slick with spit crashing into yours as your body moved with a purpose, getting in four, offering yourself to Ominis first.

Sebastian’s eyes went wide, his cock twitching at the sight of you, your ass presented to his best friend, and your lips parted and waiting for him.

The blonde’s cock teased your entrance, the tip of him brushing under your folds a few times, brushing your clit and making you shiver. He was thick, his shaft heavy with need, and you could feel the heat of him as he pressed against you.

“Fuck me,” You commanded.

And either of them need to be told twice. Sebastian came forward in an instant, his cock in his palm, hovering over your mouth, the tip dripping with precum that you licked up like it was candy. Your tongue swirled around the head, teasing the slit before taking him deep into your throat. Your hands reached up to grip his hips, pulling him closer as you sucked him like your life depended on it.

Meanwhile, Ominis was pushing inside you, his cock finally stretching you open in the most delicious fucking way. Your pussy clenched around him, feeling him, greedy for every inch as he filled you up. His hips snapped forward, driving himself deep as he let out a guttural moan. His hands were on your ass, holding you open as he fucked you.

Your moans vibrate on Sebastian’s cock, making Ominis slide a hand down your back to your scalp, making you take Sebastian even deeper with each thrust. 

“You’re taking us both so well.” 

Sebastian reached to your cheek, brushing off a tear that had begun to roll down your face. His other hand was in your hair, gripping it tight as he used your mouth. 

But then his eyes flicked over to Ominis, and his rhythm faltered for just a second. The jealousy hit Sebastian like a fist to the gut.

“Fuck,” Sebastian growled “why does he get to be in you first?” His hips jerked harder, driving his cock down your throat until you choked “You like his cock better than mine?” 

You were able to moan a “no”  in response but Ominis cut you off right away.

“Don’t lie,” Ominis purred, squeezing your buttcheeks harder with each thrust. 

“I’m gonna cum,” Sebastian warned, his voice strangled as he kept fucking your throat. 

You didn’t stop, couldn’t stop, your tongue working him over as Ominis pounded into you from behind. The symphony of the wet sounds of your pussy taking Ominis’ cock, the choked moans coming from Sebastian as he fucked your face filled the entire dorm.

And then it happened. Sebastian came with a quiet shout, his cock pulsing as he shot load after load down your throat. You swallowed every single drop, your eyes rolling back as Ominis kept hitting your sweet spot. 

Sebastian’s hands were firm as he helped you up, carefully to not interrupt Ominis. His lips crashed into yours, hungry and possessive, the taste of himself still fresh on your tongue—salty, primal, and his. Your nails dug into his chest as the pure ecstasy of the moment consumed you.

When Ominis felt he was about to cum, he stopped and grabbed you from behind and trailed kisses down your back. You moaned at the loss of his cock in you.

“Not yet…” He teased. 

His lips trailed down and up your back, leaving a trail of wet, open-mouthed kisses that made you shiver. His teeth sunk into the tender flesh of your neck, and you let out a gasp, your body arching against him as his fingers pinched your nipples—hard, just the way you fucking liked it.

“You’re more mine than you are hiss-ss,” Ominis growled into your ear in Parselmouth, his voice dripping with dominance, and a moan tumbled from your lips, raw and unfiltered.

Your hardened nipples were an open invitation to Sebastian’s mouth, which he immediately accepted, ruthless and hungry as he descended on your tits, sucking one hardened nipple into his mouth while his fingers pinched and twisted the other. Your back arched as you ground yourself against his hand, needing more, needing everything. Sebastian’s fingers plunged into your slick pussy, curling deep inside you, hitting that sweet spot over and over again. Your juices coated his fingers, sticky and warm, as he pumped them in and out, until he had to hold you so you could stand still. Ominis grabbed your hips in place, and tightened his grip around your neck until he could feel the pulsing of your heart on your throat. His cock slid under your ass cheeks until he felt Sebastian fingers.

“You were the one who opened the door, remember?” Ominis whispered as he bit the shell of your ear. “How does it feel like to have both of us fucking you?”

The words trying to leave your throat weren’t coherent, you couldn’t speak, couldn’t think, your body was a quivering mess of pleasure and pain as they fucked you, tearing you apart and putting you back together with every thrust, every touch.

“You’re so perfect,” Sebastian growled, his lips brushing against your other ear, his voice rough with desire. “Your pussy’s like fucking velvet.”

You reached your climax, yes, but they didn’t stop, they accompanied you further in the waves of your first orgasm, their bodies moving in perfect harmony with yours.

Sebastian’s grin was predatory, he spun you around so you could face Ominis, his fingers—still slick with your arousal—pressed against your lips from behind. Your mouth opened like a reflex, your tongue flicking out to taste yourself, the tang of your juices mingling with the salt of your sweat. 

Ominis couldn’t resist you. His forearms hooked under the back of your knees, pulling your legs wide open. Sebastian’s chest pressed against your back, pinning you in place as Ominis slid the head of his cock into your dripping cunt with one smooth, deliberate thrust. You gasped, the stretch of him almost too much, but fuck, it felt good.

He buried himself into your pussy. The obscene slaps of his hips against your pelvis echoed in the room, and you could feel every vein, every ridge of his cock as he pulled out and slammed back in. You glanced down—couldn’t help it—and saw your tits bouncing up and down and his cock disappearing into your slick.

“You like watching him fuck you?” Sebastian purred in your ear, his voice dripping with mockery and lust. You nod. “You like seeing him penetrate you, don’t you? Say it so he can hear you admit it”.

“Ye-Yes, I l-love it” You said between breaths.

Ominis’ hands gripped your hips harder, pulling you back onto his cock with every thrust. You were fucking drowning in sensation, your pussy throbbing around him, your clit still tingling from your previous climax.

Your second orgasm hit you like a mad train, and Ominis didn’t fucking stop. He drove into you harder, faster, his cock slamming into that sweet spot inside you until you were screaming, your body shaking like a leaf, prolonging your ecstasy. He pulled out at the last second, his cock jerking as he painted your stomach with thick ropes of cum, each shot followed by a low, guttural growl.

And then... then they were gentle. Sebastian’s fingers brushed the hair from your face as Ominis pressed soft kisses to the nape of your neck. They cleaned you up with tender care, their voices low and soothing as they whispered sweet nothings into your ear. You leaned into their touch, your clumsy hands roaming their bodies as they showered you with affection.

For all the filth they’d just put you through, they knew how to make you feel like a queen after. But you knew this was far from over.

“Lay down,” Sebastian then commanded in a whisper, and you both obeyed instantly.

Sebastian laid on his side next to Ominis, wrapping his hand around Ominis’ cock, his strokes fast and relentless, keeping his friend’s dick hard. 

And you? You had some making up to do for interrupting Ominis’ meal earlier. You crawled toward the wooden bedframe, your thighs framing Ominis’ head like a crown. He didn’t waste a second. His forearms hooked down your thighs, making you sit. His tongue dove into your cunt, lapping up every drop of your -and his- arousal, his nose pressed against your clit, his breath hot against your slick folds. You ground yourself against his face as his tongue worked you tenderly, his lips sucking and nibbling at your sensitive flesh.

Sebastian’s hand was slick with sweat and something stickier as he worked Ominis’ cock, stroking him with a rhythm that was almost musical. Sebastian’s mouth left a trail of possessive kisses and sharp little bites that made Ominis hiss and writhe beneath him. 

Sebastian’s tongue found the scar just below the V of Ominis’ hips—a jagged, pale line that told a silly childhood story. He licked it with a tenderness that was almost mocking, the heat of his mouth making Ominis’ back arch.

“Ss-sSebastian" The word was muffled by your body above him. But you hear it. Sebastian heard it. Probably the whole fucking common room heard it. 

Sebastian responded, like a dog being called by its master. He dropped his head, swallowing him down to the root in one smooth motion. The wet, slurping sounds he was making were loud, obscene and totally on purpose so you could hear what he was doing. 

And it fucking worked. 

You climbed off Ominis, your thighs trembling, as he licked his lips clean with a shameless moan. You kissed your way down his chest, your tongue tracing the ridges of his abs, your hands roaming lower while Sebastian continued to blow him with lips and tongue, his eyes closed, lost in the rhythm. Your fingers laced with his brunette hair, encouraging to take Ominis even deeper. 

“He looks so pretty with his lips around your cock, Ominis” You teased, caressing his groins, seeing how he twitched even more at your touch. 

“Ss-Sebastian fucking Ss-Ssssallow,” Ominis hissed again, his voice a broken rasp, his hips bucking up into Sebastian’s mouth.

You switched places with Sebastian then, positioning yourself between their tangled legs like some kind of snake. Both men were devouring each other, their hands couldn’t get enough of their skin, pushing and pulling into primal wet kisses, their cocks like two concrete towers framing the scene. 

Your mouth found Sebastian’s entrance, teasing it with slow, torturous licks while your hands worked them both at once—Sebastian’s cock heavy and hard in your palm, Ominis’ slick with spit and pre-cum on the other.

You took both of their fluids and began to caress Sebastian’s hole, preparing him for what you knew it was coming. It was so obvious, even Ominis could see it. Your fingers pushed into Sebastian, stretching him open with slow, firm motions while your mouth worked Ominis now, taking him deep until you choked on him. Sebastian moaned at the intrusion, his body opening up for you like a fucking flower, his hole clenching around your fingers like he was begging for more.

It was obvious—painfully obvious—what he wanted. 

Ominis sat and pulled you up with him, raining kisses over your arm and shoulder as he laid you on your back next to Sebastian. You eased yourself onto the cool sheets, allowing your legs to fall open invitingly as Sebastian rolled over you.

He sat on his knees just on top of you, taking in the sight of your beautiful and vulnerable position beneath him. He noticed your legs trembling -obviously, right?- so he took them up to his shoulders and kissed them from your feet all the way to your knees. At the same time, Ominis' hands danced across Sebastian's body, fingertips eagerly exploring every contour and curve of his chest as if trying to memorize its exact topography. Going behind him, he leaned in close to Sebastian, pressing fevered kisses along his back, causing him to arch into the sensation. The arousal coursing through him manifested itself in his throbbing erection, leaking in anticipation.

You were there too, grinding your hips up against Sallow, inviting him. You watched, your breath hitching, as he dragged his spit-slick fingers down to your pussy, the coldness of it making you gasp as he circled your clit. 

Ominis’ hands slid lower, gripping Sebastian’s ass as he pushed himself between the man’s thighs. Sebastian groaned, his forehead falling into yours as Ominis pressed his erection against him, teasing the rim of his ass with his cock. You could see the way Sebastian’s body trembled, caught between the pleasure of your heat below and the promise of Ominis’ intrusion behind.

You positioned Sebastian’s cock at your entrance, just before Ominis pushed into him, slow but firm, making Sebastian gasp, his muscles tightening around the invading length.

“Fuck, ah” Sebastian moaned, the word rough and broken, like it had been dragged out of him.

Your hands roamed his body, feeling his muscles tense and relax as Ominis fucked him from behind. Sebastian’s hips rocked forward, his cock parting your folds, and making you whine in pleasure as you could feel, and see, both of them. 

Ominis controlled you both, and he knew it. He leaned over Sebastian, his breath hot against the man’s ear as he whispered:

“You’ve been waiting for this moment, haven’t you? And look at her—look how she’s taking you. Look how you’re fucking her.”

Sebastian’s hazel eyes locked onto yours, glassy with pleasure, his lips parted as he panted. You could see the desperation in his gaze, the way his body trembled as Ominis fucked him harder, deeper, his thrusts sending Sebastian’s cock slamming into your pussy with a wet, obscene slap. You reached up, your nails digging into his shoulder blades as you rode the wave of pleasure that was threatening to consume you.

“Tell me how good I’m making you feel” Ominis commanded. 

“ Fucking g-good” Sebastian cried. 

And then you realized—he wasn’t just talking to Sebastian. He was talking to you. You opened your mouth to speak, but all that came out was a moan, a high, keening sound that was drowned out by the wet slap of skin on skin.

“Tell me” he insisted

“So good,” you moaned, your voice trembling as Sebastian’s cock hit that spot inside you that made your vision blur. “So fucking good—fuck—”

“That’s it,” he purred, his voice dripping with satisfaction. “Take it all.”

And you did. You took everything they gave you, your body writhing as pleasure built in your core like a storm. You could feel Sebastian’s cock twitching inside you.

The mattress creaked under you three, the bedframe was pounding the wall almost as hard as Ominis was pounding both of you. Your lips locked onto Sebastian’s in a messy, desperate kiss that left your mouths slick with spit. His hands clawed at the bedframe, his knuckles white as he tried to hold on, but his arms trembled like he was about to collapse from the sheer intensity of it.

As you came with a scream, your core clenched around him. Right after you, Sebastian came hard, his cock pulsing inside you as he filled you up with his hot, sticky cum. Ominis too—he buried himself to the hilt in Sebastian’s ass, his cock twitching as he emptied himself deep inside.

The room was a fucking mess— Sebastian collapsed onto the bed beside you, his chest heaving as he stared up at the ceiling, a lazy smile spreading across his face. His dark hair was a mess, sticking to his forehead, his lips were swollen.

“Fuck,” you muttered, noticing your thighs were still trembling “I think I just saw Merlin.”

Ominis chuckled. He joined you both and leaned back against the headboard, his chest rising and falling as he traced a finger down your side, his touch sending shivers through your oversensitive skin.

“You’re welcome,” he said, his voice low and dripping with smug arrogance.

Sebastian reached out as well, his fingers brushing against your stomach, sending a jolt of pleasure through you. “You okay?” he asked, his voice softer now, almost tender. “We didn’t break you, did we?”

Oh, but you were broken—shattered into a thousand little pieces, your body a wreck of pleasure and exhaustion, your pussy still throbbing, your skin sticky, but you couldn’t remember the last time you’d felt so... satisfied.

“I’m more than fine,” you managed to rasp. “Don’t worry.”

Ominis, the gentle lover he was despite the filth he’d just unleashed on your body, leaned in to press soft kisses on the curve of your neck, his lips lingering against the pulse point that still fluttered wildly. Sebastian followed, nibbling at your shoulder, his teeth grazing the skin just enough to make you shiver. The three of you lay there, enveloped in the afterglow of your masterpiece of depravity.

👉 Are there any grammar mistakes? Probably. Will I fix them? No. Thank you 😃 Happy HL Anniversary & early Valentines Day! ✨🫰

[orcelito]

I wonder how mentally tortured I have to look to be let off the hook lol

[submattenthusiast]

obsessed

pairings; sub!matt x soft!dom reader (no use of y/n)

contents; smut; boob sucking, mommy kink, cum in pants etc.

summary - matt is obsessed with your tits!

wc; 1.3k

notes; not proofread.

obsessed is an understatement. matt was fascinated, captivated, and fixated on your boobs. anytime he could hold, touch, or suck he would.

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

it was beginning to get dark outside and your boyfriend, matt was nowhere to be found. he had been out for a few hours now. before he left the house he told you he was heading to top golf with a few friends. he had kindly offered an invitation but you declined, not wanting to socialize today.

the sound of keys jingling outside the door rang through the house, notifying you that matt was home. you remained in your position on the couch, too lazy to get up to greet him. light footsteps were heard as matt trudged up the stairs. his face lit up as he entered the living room and saw you there. 

“hiya, baby!” he happily spoke. he slipped his shoes off before making his way over to you. “hi babe, have fun?” you greeted with a smile. reaching the foot of the couch, he plopped down on top of you, an “oomph” was heard as your bodies collided. you adjusted your body under him so that he wasn’t crushing you. he attempted to speak but was having difficulties due to his head being smushed in your chest.

“mhm, missed you way too much” he whined. you caressed his hair while he squirmed around, trying to get comfortable. “yeah baby?” you cooed. he nodded with a huff. the huff threw you off. you immediately sensed something was up. “matt.. what’s wrong?” you asked concerned. he shifted around with huffs and puffs, moving his body and head left to right and up and down. as if he were lying on the bed instead of you.

“i want to be closer to you, i need to be closer’’ he groaned, genuinely frustrated. he scanned your body for a way to be closer. “closer??... your full body is on top of mine how much closer can you get?” you said with a giggle. he paused for a second before reaching for the bottom of your shirt. his large hands fiddled nervously with the fabric. he looked at you with the sweetest look but also for permission. “please? want your boobs’’ he pleaded. his eyes were full of desperation. “please what matthew? you know better”. he whimpered before shyly responding. “please mommy?” he practically begged. his cheeks burned bright red. matt only called you mommy or mama during sex. 

“good boy, they’re all yours” you praised. you moved your hands to remove your shirt before getting interrupted. matt’s hand abruptly stopped yours, halting your movements. “keep it on please ma?  just gonna put my head under”. and that he did. he scooted down on the couch, his crotch resting on your thighs and his head on your chest. his brown curls peeked out from the top of your shirt. luckily you decided to wear an oversized shirt today. he sighed contently as he was finally comfy.

“can i?” he spoke, pawing at your boobs. his head was resting between your boobs. he moved an arm up into your shirt. target being your left boob. matt’s calloused hand felt rough against your soft skin. “mhm,” you groaned. you were getting impatient. you loved the feeling of his mouth on your breast. sharp teeth grazing the soft skin just right.

upon your approval, matt attached his mouth to your right boob. massaging with the left one so she wouldn’t feel left out. his tongue explored every inch of your breast, not leaving any spot untouched. you whined out, the pleasure going straight to your core. your hands instinctively reached out for his hair, forgetting his position. you needed something to grab on, and your fingers grip the couch under you.

“thank you mommy” he mumbled. “needed this so bad, need my mouth to be full of you all the time” he moaned. you giggled at his ridiculous statement. you peeked under your shirt to look at the boy. drool was slipping from the corners of his mouth and his eyes were squeezed shut.

lost in the pleasure he was giving you, you missed his growing boner and the slight movements of his hips. he was lazily grinding his crotch against your thigh. you were both in bliss as loud whimpers and moans sounded throughout the room. “fuck you taste so good, could stay here forever” he groaned, finally coming up for air.

“matt?” you whispered, brows furrowed. you moved your hands from your sides to his hair, as you couldn’t before. your words made him stop his movements. nervous and embarrassed that you noticed what he was doing so quickly. “hm?” he tried to sound as nonchalant as possible. “are you hard right now..?” you spoke, holding back a laugh. he lowered his head back under your shirt before he responded, acting as if the shirt would hide his boner. “yeah yes fuck i am” he faintly spoke. 

“i just couldn’t help myself i’m sorry i’ll stop if you want” he babbled assuming you were mad. your face softened at his words. “finish what you started and you better not stop until you cum since you’re so desperate” you demanded. you lifted the soft fabric once more, making eye contact with his blue eyes making sure he understood you. matt nodded eagerly.

“yes, mommy i will” he responded shyly. “c-can i have your boobs while i do it please” he pleaded with you. your soft hands stroked his pink cheeks affectionately. in awe of how good he was being for you. “need them to cum sweet boy?” you cooed. “yes yes mama please” he whined.

matt leaned back down, and latched his mouth onto your left boob now, whispering soft apologies. he tugged on the hem of your shirt, wanting you to pull it back down. obeying his wants you slowly pulled it down, being careful not to hit his head. you opened your legs wider under him, giving him the room he needed to properly move. he began rutting his crotch against your thigh,the rough material of his jeans scratching at the plush skin. you wrapped your hands around his waist, helping him steady his pace

matt moaned at your touch, mumbling a thank you into your boob. you thought he looked so pretty like this. mouth full of your tit,eyes shut in bliss. so desperate. so needy. 

your breathing got heavier as the wet patch on your underwear grew. you were calling him desperate and needy, forgetting about your predicament. his mouth felt heavenly against your nipple. you weren’t gonna cum, this wasn’t about you. 

the hands on his waist to help steady his pace were no help. his hips had a mind of their own. his moans got louder and more high pitched. you knew he was getting close. you were grinning at the power you had over him. making him cum just from your boobs. “mommy— fuck i’m close please let me cum” matt begged, tone full of need. 

“cum for me sweet boy, i got you” you praised. he sped up his movements,eager to cum. a few more thrusts from him did the job. thick ropes of cum filled his boxers, a wet patch forming. slightly spilling through and onto his jeans. lewd moans and groans shot out his mouth as he came down from his high. “ngh- fuck fuck thank you” he repeated.

you moved slighty to push him up off you, causing him to protest immediately. whining at the loss of contact. he attempted to reattach himself to you but quickly failed. “you need to get cleaned up matt’’ you spoke sternly, unimpressed by his behavior. “be a good boy for mommy” you said knowingly. praise was his weakness. 

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

notes - ASS ENDING SORRY! i hope you enjoyed mwah <3

taglist; @mattybsgroupie @frnkocnlvr @fratboychrisera @issysh3ll

[omgeto]

☆ THREE ISN'T A CROWD — SATORU & SUGURU

summary: your best friends, geto and gojo, rail you in a hotel bed. that's it. that's the fic.

cw: afab!reader, finger fucking, unprotected sex, double penetration so mdni !!

an: I wrote this whilst drinking a big fat cup of tea, and eating a packet of stale biscuits. so no angsty romance today, just two besties appreciating you in their own special way. it is 5:40 am so I did not proof read this so ignore mistakes pls <;33

gojo and geto were mischievous on their own accords – but when together it was worse. so when you were sandwiched between them in your hotel room, since of course there was only one bed, you weren’t even surprised.

“this is not fair,” gojo mumbles, his lips curling into a mock pout as he exhales a huff of air. 

“oh don’t be a baby,” geto scolds, with a chuckle . gojo and geto bickered over who got to sleep where and after a lengthy game of rock paper scissors – it was gojo who had to face the wall. “you’ll get your turn soon.” you could feel geto’s breath on your neck as he was placed firmly behind you, his hands stuffed in your pants as his fingers caress your wet slit. 

“don’t be mean sugu,” you chastise, your hand trailing up gojo's back to his shoulder to turn him over, facing you, “there’s enough of me to go around.” gojo is needy, pressing a feverish kiss to your lips, wanting to taste all of you.

gojo didn’t think his plan would work, when he proposed it to geto he was swift in his agreement — the only thing left was you. their pretty little best friend. who they've both wanted a piece of, for years.

now that he’s got you, he couldn’t contain himself – if he wasn’t careful he knew he’d be cumming in his boxers too soon. he latches onto your neck sucking and biting his hands grabbing onto your tits, tweaking and pinching at your nipples.

“you’re hogging her,” gojo complains, as his fingers slip down to your cunt. geto adds another finger spreading your lips wider as gojo’s forces his fingers into you. they were both rubbing your pussy. your wetness making it easier for gojo to piston in and out of you and for geto to stroke and flick against your clit with his thumb.

“g-guys fuck, you’re both too much,” you whimper,  your hips thrusting towards gojo, slotting onto his fingers further. geto’s slides his tongue from your collar bone to your jaw before his hand grips onto it, his lips remain at your ears as he whispers, “you gonna cum for us baby?”

“yeah c’mon make a mess for us,” gojo adds, continuing his pattern of rubs and pushes in your pussy, its almost as if he’s committed the rhythm to memory. he was effortless in working with geto, both aiding each other to help you reach your climax. geto pinches your clint, hard, and you spray both of their hands with your cum – squirting all over them.

gojo’s eyes widen at the sight, “shit, i didn’t know you could do that” he exclaims, taking his fingers out of you, examining them as they glisten with your juices, “suguru, did she know that she could do that?”

geto ignores him, rolling his eyes at his friends over excitement, “wanna be wowed even further, taste her, i bet she’s sweet.” before gojo could comply you take his fingers in your mouth, practically choking on them as you suck off all your juices. 

“you taste good don’t you?” geto muses, pressing a kiss to your neck, you nod dumbly as you lock eyes with gojo still nibbling on his fingers. 

“hey suguru, can we try something with her,” gojo proposes, and geto nods, prompting him to continue, “i wanna stuff her. i want both of us to stuff her. 

“we can make that happen, can't we?” geto smirks, rubbing on your ass giving it a light smack, “come sit on my dick, i’ll take of you.”

“what about me?” gojo whines, groaning as you're pulled away from him and on top of geto. 

“you’ll get yours in due time, satoru,” geto scolds, taking out his dick giving it some light pumps before rubbing it across your slit. you force yourself down on him, your hands clawing at his chest as you push it down. you were already gushing at the feeling of geto inside of you, filling you whole. so the idea of having them both in you had you excited, grinding down onto geto’s dick as hard as he was thrusting into you.

“are you seeing this?” geto asks gojo, gesturing to the way your head was thrown back and your lips were clenched in your teeth, “the way our pretty friend here is all strung out on my dick?”

gojo’s eyes were focused on the way you bounced repeatedly on his best friends dick, furiously pumping his as the sight. the way your grabbed your tits and played with your nipples, moaning to the beat of geto’s thrusts, he knew he needed to be inside of you. 

he gets out of the bed, coming to kneel behind you, peppering kisses along your spine. “i think theres room for me, isn’t there?” he jests, slightly pushing you forward, eyeing the way geto’s dick slides in and out of you. 

you take a shark inhale at the feeling of gojo entering you, “you’re good,” geto reassures, “you can take us.” and you moan as you get used to the feeling of the both of them, their dicks rubbing together as they drive into you, instantly finding a rhythm. 

“you feel so fuckin’ good, w-way too good,” gojo moans, holds you from behind, his chest presses against your back, his hands cupping your boobs as his head rests on your shoulders. 

“‘m close,” geto mutters, smirking at the sight of you, the feeling of you. “you gonna let us cum inside of you? really keep you filled up.” you moan out in agreement, your head felt so foggy with the feeling of them both charging into you. geto gives gojo a knowing smile, and as if on cue, they both load into you showering you with their cum. you finish at the same as them with a high pitched moan, releasing onto them, feeling stuffed with all their cum, and yours, resting inside of you.

“now that,” gojo pulls out of you, pressing an appreciative kiss on the corner of your lips before collapsing on the bed with a blissful smile, “was fucking magical.”

“yeah i guess it was good,” geto chuckles, still inside of you, kissing you on your forehead, his hand slinging over your ass, as you slump on top of him, “how are you feeling?”

“you two are exhausting,” you joke with a smile, “but i can see why i kept you around as my friends.” although this was something that you yourself didn’t plan, you weren’t gonna deny that being freshly fucked and laid up with your two best friends wasn’t all that bad.

AN: I think you can see my heavy bias for geto come thru in this fic but oh well DIVIDERS BY @/CAFEKITSUNE I wrote this more for time than anyone else tbf BUT TELL ME WHAT U THINK since I am iffy on my smut skills

[ddejavvu]

I just saw an ad Instagram for a thong that said ‘all you can eat buffet’ on it and I am BEGGING you to write James reacting to r wearing it 😭

this post is 18+, minors dni.

It's a gag, nothing more. The block letters are ugly, big white shapes that are already cracking on the surface of the red fabric. But their message is worth it: ALL YOU CAN EAT BUFFET'.

An ad for the thong had jumped out at you during your nightly social media scroll only a few weeks ago, and you'd ordered it while James was snoring beside you. He appreciates a good joke, but he's also been known to appreciate a good meal, and you wonder if the manufacturer had made them personally for you and James.

You wear them beneath the little sleep shorts that drive James crazy, the ones that are so loose he can always catch a glimpse of your underwear beneath them. You're just tucking yourself beneath the blankets, keeping your thigh purposefully visible, when James stumbles into the room with a hand buried deep in his curls, scratching away at them.

He's mid-yawn, and you're slightly taken aback when he refrains from making a comment about your attire. He's usually all over you, and you have no doubt that he'll be nearly on top of you when you're both beneath the covers, but you can't believe he managed to keep a crass comment out of his mouth.

"Sirius wants to try out a new bike repair shop tomorrow," James mumbles, clearly tired as he shucks off his joggers and heads for bed with only his shirt and briefs remaining, "'Says the place opens bloody early- six I think? Closes at nine. So I've gotta haul my ass up before then."

"Oh." You retort, trying to keep the disappointment out of your voice as you settle, "Sorry, Jamie. We can sleep early tonight."

He hums encouragingly into the sheets as he gets situated, reaching immediately for you just as you'd known he would. His large hands gravitate towards your waist, and even if he's too tired and responsible to think about sex tonight, his hand snakes into the waistband of your shorts for safekeeping.

He feels the blocky, stiff cool of the lettering on the front of your thong and you feel his brows furrow where his head is pressed into your shoulder. He peeks over it now, stretching the waistband of your shorts open and keeping the blankets lifted so that he can see what you're wearing in the dim lights you have yet to turn off.

"What-" He squints, trying to read upside-down without his glasses, but it's a hopeless case. You're already halfway towards a fit of giggles, and you shimmy out of your shorts to stand proudly on your knees close enough for him to see.

"All you can eat buffet," He reads, murmuring the words while his face lights up and a hearty laugh escapes his throat, "Darling! That's cheeky, where did you get that?"

"I found it online." You giggle, and he braces a hand on your thigh to admire it. He studies you for a moment, still chuckling, and then he moves to sit up, staring at you expectantly.

"Well lay down, darling." He invites you, "Let's see this buffet."

"No, James, it's alright!" You insist, "You have to be up early for Sirius. It can wait, I'll wear them some other time for you."

"No," He whines, sounding petulant, "Your terrible jokes and impulsive financial habits have charmed me. On your back, darling."

"James, you don't-" You shake your head but he takes your face in his hands, pressing his head closer to yours so that you're pushed back and subsequently laid down, "-you don't have to do this, we can-"

"God, you make eating pussy sound like a chore." He mumbles between kisses, kissing next at your chin, then the pudge beneath it as you lay on the bed, "Relax, darling. All-you-can-eats are my favorite, and I've just realized I'm hungry."

[nescence]

Marriage life

JJK men x Fem!Reader

Summary - Basically just you and him in a marriage. Both wholesome and smutty. Involves: Gojo, Getou & Nanami

Warnings: Mirror sex, pervert Getou, praising, masturbating, massage sesh with Nanami ;), overstimulation.

PT2 pending…..

GOJO

You and Gojo are pretty much the rich aunty and uncle. You don’t have kids because your sister has pretty much filled that hole for you and babysitting the two twins is enough.

Movie night is a must with you guys. It’s relaxing and comforting especially on rainy days. So before bed when the kids are over you either watch horror or comedy, all snuggled up in a blanket. Gojo is always the last to fall asleep, it’s like he’s programmed to stay awake and protect you - always being the one to carry each of you to bed carefully.

“Satoru?” You mumble as your body is carefully placed onto the bed. You hear him hum as he covers you up. “The kids…” you trail off, sleep still in your body. He joins you in bed placing a kiss on your cheek then lips. “took care of em, get some beauty sleep” he reassures, arms sneaking around your waist, pulling you closer to him planting another on your forehead before you snuggle into him. The warmth emitting his body immediately putting you to sleep. His embrace has always been comforting, bringing you a sense of saftey you couldn't describe.

Clinginess, Gojo can be clingy whenever you’re off to work. He found it ridiculous why you would want to work in the first place. He had enough money for generations upon generations so you working was always baffling to him. Who in their right mind would work willingly?.

Sweets. You guys could make a factory with the amount of sweets you had in your cupboards. Maybe that’s why he always has an unbelievable amount of energy. Even in bed.

Practically a house husband.

“How’s my beautiful wife doing today?” Spreading his arms wide, Gojo pulls you into a hug. You were tired but you gladly accepted it, letting yourself fall into his hold. His arms remain at your hips staring down at you. “You’re glowing” his eyes sparkle, and you frown.

“Really? I thought I looked like shit” you say but he shakes his head “that’s weird…didn’t use anything new”. Once those words came out your mouth Gojo grins. “I could think of a reason why” his tone was cheeky, eyebrows wriggling as he stares down at you. Realising what he meant, you groan pinching his nipple which makes him jump.

“Ya nasty” rolling your eyes with a smile on your face.

Always, always praising you.

“Look at you…” Gojo practically whispers to himself, watching his fingers circle your wet clit through the mirror. Your body twitching under his electrifying touch, the way the tip of his middle finger delicately presses against your clit has you shaking for mercy. Licking his lips hungrily, his eyes observe. A fucking. Sight. To see.

Your brows curled and bottom lip disappears underneath your teeth. Legs broadened - felt embarrassing to you - like a work of art mirrored at gojo, granting him the sight of every inch and surface of his wife; your pussy glosses under the soft lighting of your bedroom, keeping his glistening cock cosy within whilst drops of cum seep out, running down his length. Your low whimpers sounding like the desperate cry of a pup. Face stained with dried tears. And Gojo loves it, bringing you to such a state to show how much he adores your body, how a stunning woman like you should be treated - he wants to give you nothing but pure pleasure caused by him and him only.

“Ahn~~” you moan, trying your best to keep your legs open as Gojo continues teasing your abused clit. Your sensitivity at a high due to your nonstop cumming. “You’re soo..beautiful [Name]” He lulls into your ear, mouth against your heated skin as he speaks. “Look baby, look” he stops fidgeting with your bud, your eyes avert to his in the mirror. “Don’t ya look fucking gorgeous?” Mouth parted as he speaks, breathing hungrily as he takes your hand into his. Guiding your fingers through your folds, making you spread yourself nice and wide for him to marvel at how well you suck him in, he hisses feeling you squeeze him along with the gorgeous sight. He has your fingers run through your slit, gathering both his and your essence. You exhale at the action any light touch on your clit making you twitch. “Bet you taste as good you look” his eyes lock onto yours, “hmm?”. Your gaze never leaves his blues as he guides your hand up to your lips, the pure intimacy in your eyes as your lips fall open, giving him the opportunity to push your fingers into your mouth. Closing it shut, you relish in the sweet taste of you and your husband, moaning vulgarly as you suck and swirl your tongue around your digits. Causing your husband to further expand within you.

His eyes, lost in yours, clouded by his lust whilst he watches you swirl your hips. Gaining whatever friction from his cock Sitting deep within your walls. All the while you’re lost in the motion, your eyes rolling shut revelling in the sensation. Your sucking becoming weak as you grow a knot within your stomach, mouth loosening and drool running down your chin. Drunk with sweet bliss.

Fucking hell. You’re killing him.

“Fuck…c’mere” his hand faces you towards him, lips immediately magnetise. Giving Gojo a chance to taste both you and him. Hungrily devouring you, not giving you a bit of control as his tongue rolls, leading you whilst moaning. Gojo sucks In a breath feeling your soft walls pulsate and squeeze his girth, his lips hung on yours. Letting out pleasured breaths as he finally moves his hips again, nicely…slowly…gliding his length up into your drenched hole. His name rolls off your tongue barely above a whisper, Gojo lazily kisses you as his mind is now elsewhere, gradually increasing his speed now that both his hands held onto your hips. A yelp slips your tongue feeling his swollen tip hit your cervix. The creamy mess of your cum reaching both ears, evidence of your unceasing sex. Whatever words Gojo grunts out falling into deaf ears, a feeling of rapture throughout out your body. Your vision blurry due to a well up of tears, eyes glued to the ceiling, mouth remaining parted as rhythmic moans are beat out your throat every time Gojo’s hips bounced you upwards.

“Your pussy’s so goood [Name]” Groaning, Gojo spouts out whatever comes into his mind. Big hands squeezing the flesh of your hips whilst he enjoys your cunt socked on him. “Feels so- so good baby- fuck” he grunts eyes catching the motion of his length disappearing into your pussy, a white ring of cum developed around his base. A reminder of your previous rounds, and yet he couldn’t get enough.

Seeing your head hung over his shoulder, tits bouncing, tears streaming….He wants more, he needs to make his wife feel just how fucking amazing she is to him.

GETOU

One thing about Getou is his acts of service, that's his love language. He'd help you with your hair, help with cooking despite being horrible at it. Anything he feels would burden you he'd do it.

Despite his act of service, you love returning the favour - one thing between you two is you self care days. Getou only doing it because of you. You'd help him out with his long silky hair, massaging his scalp, oiling his face. all sorts.

"Is it nice" you whisper softly, smiling as you watch him relax into you. His eyes remain closed as he hums, enjoying the feeling of your fingers scratching his scalp. You chuckle, reaching to get a serum for his face, whilst applying it you lean over to place a peck onto is lips. Getou’s purple eyes fluttering open to be met with the face of his beautiful wife, a fond smile spreads across his face as he watches the softness in your expression as you scrub his scalp. You’re always so gentle and pulpous with him. Just like he his with you.

He reaches his hand to take yours in, you let him although caught off guard. His lips meet your skin, a gentle kiss from him on your hand.

One thing you both love are drives, it didn't matter the destination or if there even is a destination. You both found amusement in having long drives either in comforting silence or with music. And during all that Getou's hands dont leave yours, interlocking your fingers in silence no matter how sweaty it gets he doesn't let go. Unless you stop for a snack.

Whenever your clothes go missing/ get damaged. Getou doesn't hesitate in replacing them. One day a bra or shirt of yours would be gone and the next day it'll be there right where you left it all brand new. Even if when you point out something you like, it'll be in your possession the next day.

Speaking of clothes getting damaged or lost. The reason being?. Your husband. Despite his cool demeanor and being your husband, Getou is a pervert for you. Stealing your clothes, enjoying their scent as he fucks himself using them. Just to make up for when you're not there.

You had gone out to meet your best friend because of an alleged emergency. And now Getou is left alone with his thoughts.

1 hour later, he finds himself watching a show to pass time. Frequently checking his phone to see if you’ve messaged him or called. But nothing. It doesn’t help when the last thing you said to him was hinting at something, something he knew very well what to be.

‘I have some things I wanna try out with you…��

Those words ring in his head and his mind goes into the gutter. Immediately thinking of the videos he came across on your laptop. You’ve both never done that before. Maybe?….

2 hours later, fuck… he groans into his hands. Unable to focus on the show. His dick was aching…throbbing for a release he can’t bear to resist any longer.

10 minutes past, and Getou finds himself digging through your dirty laundry. Eyes laying on that one lace panty he loves on you. He doesn’t waste time pulling the band of his sweats down to set himself free, tip angry and leaking with precum. Veins popping as if he was gonna explode. His mouth goes agape, letting out sharp breaths once he brings the piece of cloth to his nose. His free hand rubs his inflated tip whilst deeply inhaling the musky scent of your cunt.

“Fuck…Baby.” He gasps, eyes rolling as he begins to stroke his cock. Imagining your flooded hole welcoming him in. Desperately pumping him. “Sssshit [name]” he amps up speed, bringing the lace down to wrap around himself. He needs you. He needs so bad and you’re not here.

“[Name], [Name], [Name]— fuck ah—”

It’s not enough. He needs more, he’ll never cum this way. His hips buck into his hand in attempt to gain more friction, to replicate your gummy walls bouncing up and down him. Milking him. Emptying his balls till he’s all dried up.

“Yes baby…shit— ah- ah-”

His hand moves at an alarming speed, his release is right there. Within reach. A few more pants and strokes before he’s finally done, ropes of cum covering your laced panty, Getou hunching over as the release hits him hard. He groans, letting out a few breaths before looking at the mess he made.

All that mess and he’s still hard.

5 minutes pass.

“I need you- I need you-” Getou’s humping your pillow like a dog, rolling his hips into the soft cushion head thrown back at the frictions. “Ohhh fuck, fuck.” already chasing his third orgasm, his tip sensitive and red from the action. Pillow soaked with his cum and sweat running down his torso. Your lace panty lays on the floor all stained with his seed, Getou payed it no mind. Telling himself he’d get rid of it later and buy you a new one tomorrow. Now a new pillow too. Your name chants from his lips multiple times, your face appearing to him every time he closes his eyes.

He just. Couldn’t. Get. Enough.

He wants his dick to be squeezed, drenched, overstimulated to his limit. Your moans, his name leaving your soft lips in a scream. Everything about you makes his thrusts harder. Sweet moans leave his lips, as he goes harder. His mind filled with your every being, voice, touch.

“Suguru”

“Agh…fuck…yes baby” Your voice sounded so real, Getou could only throb at the sound.

“What’re you doing?” Sounded too real, his head snaps to your doorway. Seeing you stood eyes wide as you watch your husband hump your pillow shamelessly. Even then he doesn’t stop, eyes locked on yours feeling not only his heart but his cock best at the sight of you. He should stop, he should stop. He repeats in his head, but his body refuses, the pure sight of you bringing him closer to a finish.

“[Name]” he grunts, face red and hair stuck to his skin. “I need you…please- please-” begging you, his voice cracks, the sounds going straight to your already wet core. And of course, you couldn’t deny it.

NANAMI

One thing about Nanami is his consideration. No matter the situation he’s always have you first in mind. After work he’d always stop by the convenience store to buy you your favourite snacks. Now you have a whole cupboard full of it.

Compared to him, you have much more energy than he does. So every time he’d try his best to entertain your interests since it makes you happy.

Just like Gojo - he praises you every chance he gets.

“Awww kento what’s this” you pick up the stunning dress from the bed, admiring the way it shimmers under the light.

Nanami watches you with a small smile, your eyes sparkling just like the dress “It reminded me of you” he mumbles just enough for you to hear before your throwing your arms around him “Thank you so much. I love it.” You place a long kiss on his cheek, his arms wrap around your waist staring into your eyes as he spoke. “Why don’t you try it on? Since you like it so much let’s show it off” your brows perk up in shock. But then again, you should be used to this.

An hour later you’re coming out the bedroom all dressed up. The light in Nanami’s eyes glows once he lays them on you. What a beauty you are…

“I don’t know what I did in my life to deserve you” He speaks without thinking, reaching his hand out for you to take. “Oh stop it” you wave your hand, giggling like a Highschool girl receiving a compliment from her crush for the first time.

“I’m only stating the truth my love”.

Speaking of showing off. Nanami would never waste a chance to take you out, bringing you to restaurants, making sure you have your fill. Overall showing off his beautiful wife to let the world know how much of a lucky man he is to be graced with such a woman.

Working overtime is a habit Nanami can’t seem to get over. And because of that days or even weeks go by without you guys having that intimate time together. And Nanami, of course, always manages to make it up you.

“This is the least I can do. And no, you can’t return the favour” He speaks sternly, lifting you off the floor - hooking a hand underneath your knees and another around your torso.

“But you’ve been working. A lot. May I add and I’ll feel bad Kento” you argue as he places you on top of the massage bed. He plants a kiss onto your head, walking towards a cabinet “take your robe off”.

You watch him, annoyed by his disagreement. But oblige, a massage isn’t something you can easily pass on. And by your husband? You know it’ll be the best massage of your life. You lay face first on the bed, shuffling so you could get comfortable. You felt slightly chilly since Nanami suggested you go completely naked. But you have no complaints since it’s him.

“You ready?” He checks, his voice coming from your right.

“Mhmm”

Once you said that you felt a cool liquid dripping onto your back. The temperature sending shivers throughout your whole body. Your eyes close feeling his hands rub your back, spreading the oil whilst applying pressure.

“Relax for me [Name]” He spoke so calmly, so softly, it could put you to sleep. And on command you did. Relaxing just as your husband instructs, letting out hums of satisfaction whenever he hits the right spots. “Does it feel good?”. Fuck, his voice. That smooth, deep voice that you love so much. You’re trying so hard to ignore it, to not think so inappropriately about this innocent session.

“Yeah…you’re really good at this hun” you add, feeling his hands right above your rear, circles around your lower back. When he hits a specific spot you moan. “Right there Kento” you hiss as he goes back to area again, circling it until you’re satisfied “S’that good?” He inquires, making sure he’s done enough. And you nod, enjoying the tension being released.

Once he’s done with your back, he moves down to your legs, massive hands rubbing intently. Lathering them with oil. Doing to them what he did with your back.

You feel his hand move upward, now kneading your ass which caught you off guard. But you’re not complaining, rather, you giggle “Saving the best for last?” You imply, hearing Nanami sigh as he continues massaging.

“I won’t give you the satisfaction of my answer” You could hear the smile in his tone. But you don’t push on, enjoying the feeling of his hands on your body.

“Give me a sec”

Once he’s done, you hear his footsteps receding. Coming back after a few seconds later but he doesn’t do anything other stand there.

“Kento? What’re you doi— Ah!—” your husband causes you gasp as his fingers run through your folds with a cold oil. “K-Kento” your eyes expand, letting out a pleasured yelp as you hand springs to grip the massage bed. His fingers stuff you up so well, your insides already writhing. Turning you to mush as your husband's fingers slither deeper within you - the oil making it easier but also acting as an enhancement to your pleasure. What the fuck? you've felt good before but right now... you felt elated. And your moans only grew more intense as he went on.

“Judging from your reaction I made the right choice buying this oil.” He comments, fingers dragging in and out from your sopping cunt. Your eyes squeeze shut as you feel heat pool at your core, his fingers fucked you so good it’s almost embarrassing how they could bring you to this state.

“It’s only the two of us here my love. No need to restrain yourself” And with those words, a stimulation to your clit had you yelping. “Kento!”.

“Yes?”

Nanami is answered with a mewl, your body writhes beneath him. Legs springing up as a result of the overwhelming pleasure. Every once of your body felt hot. You felt goosebumps by your lower back where your husband’s hand laid whilst the other digs into your pussy, bringing you closer to climax.

“Too…ah…too much…” you barely manage to get your words out, constantly falling back into that world of pleasure. Mind solely focused on how your husband’s fingers glide against your sensitive walls, how they rub against clit. Oh…you were so close…and it didn’t go unnoticed by Nanami, he felt your cunt clench around his digits. And with that your husband increases his speed, your body tenses. Legs stretching, and hands clenching as you were on the edge of climax.

Before you knew it. Flashes blind your vision as you came. Soaking your husband’s fingers with your juices.

Nanami gives you a chance to catch your breath, soothing you with a hand massaging your back. But he doesn’t let it prolong for too long since he still had to move into the second part of this massage session.

✦ Finally back on my grind.

[wildfloweroutlaw]

Sticky Fingers

warnings: SMUT!! minors dni. some fluff. friends to lovers. switch!azriel. unprotected sex. oral (male and female receiving). underwear fetish. a bit of voyeurism. azriel is an after care king. wing play. shadow play. i really threw the kitchen sink at this one so lmk if i missed anything!

word count: ~7k WHOOPS my fingers slipped.

a/n: reader matches azriel’s freak!! this is more fleshed out continuation of this little piece AND my first ever azriel fic. for the sake of this story, let’s just assume that you can winnow to The House of Wind because let’s be fr, only being able to fly or walk up the 10,000 steps would be such an inconvenience. and to the one person who asked for this @darkbloodsly …. thank you ❤️

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Azriel’s little escapade in your bedroom a few weeks ago had been one of the most exciting things he’d done in quite some time. It was also one of the most violating. After he had returned to his room with your obscenely tiny pair of panties, he had been filled with a whirlwind of emotions. Shame. Guilt. Self loathing. But underneath all of that, the desire remained, unchecked and unbound.

Which is probably why every couple of days since that incident, he found himself staking out your room, waiting on you to leave The House so he could go in and rummage through your underwear drawer freely. He found that you had acquired a very intriguing collection. Several lacy black pairs, a pair that was a deep red and made of the softest silk, a strappy blue pair that he felt perfectly matched his siphons.

He couldn’t help but to let his mind run rampant, picturing you in every single one, picturing himself pulling them off of you. However, today’s discovery may have just been his most favorite of all.

Unsure of how he missed them all the times before, Azriel’s eyes caught on a light shade of pink. Digging to the very bottom of the drawer, he grasped the lovely material and pulled it free.

While not as daring or extravagant as some of the other items in your trove, this pair was sinfully soft and seemed so unlike anything you would normally wear. Instantly taken with the dainty pink shade and the tiny little bow adorning the front, Azriel decided that these would be his prize of the day.

Pocketing the skimpy undergarment, he sent several of his shadows through the house to ensure you were still out running errands. When they reported that the coast was clear, Azriel silently made his way down the hall and back to his own quarters.

A sick thrill went through his body and curled low in his stomach as he closed the door behind him. He pulled your lovely pink panties out of his pocket and studied them once more. Gods he should not be as turned on as he was by a pair of fucking underwear, but they were yours and they had touched you more intimately than he knew he ever would, no matter how often he dreamed of that.

Typically, Azriel held off on this part until it was late at night and everyone had already gone to sleep… but The House was empty for the next few hours and his cock was already painfully straining against his pants.

Fuck it. Pushing off the door, he made quick work of his clothes as he crossed the room to his large bed.

Laying back against his dark, plush pillows, Azriel made himself comfortable, tuning everything in the world out except for the thought of you and these godsdamned panties.

He palmed himself gently at first, the head of his cock already flushed and leaking with anticipation.

He imagined what your hands would feel like against him, how big he would look in your smaller hands, how you would stroke him. Would you prefer to pleasure him soft and tenderly? Or would you set a punishing pace with a tight grip? Azriel knew that he would let you touch him anyway you wanted to, he would let you do anything you wanted to him.

He let depraved images of all kinds fill his mind. He let himself imagine what your soft skin would feel like under his touch, let himself imagine what beautiful sounds he could pull from you. Azriel knew it was unlikely he would ever truly know, considering he had never allowed himself to openly pursue you. However, he supposed he would settle for your panties.

Finding the delicate fabric beside him on the bed, he brought the soft material that carried your sweet scent to his aching member. He shuddered at the first touch and let out a deep groan at the sensation. Several of his shadows trailed down his body, the cool sensation only adding to his pleasure. They always got rather excited when he used your undergarments in this way.

Seeing your panties against him like this always brought about a feeling of wrongness that only served to turn Azriel on even more. Now, watching the pink cloth and that fucking little bow caress his cock, he was fairly certain this could count as a sin.

And damn if that didn’t make his blood pump all the faster.

Fisting your panties against his cock, Azriel let his head fall back, soft black curls splaying upon his pillow. He allowed his mind continue to run wild with thoughts of you, deep guttural groans and soft moans of your name slipping from his lips.

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You opened the front door to The House, finding the place quiet. Which made sense considering Cassian had matters to tend to in Illyria this evening, and you were supposed to meet Nesta for dinner in just a little while. Azriel most likely had plans of his own that he almost never felt inclined to share.

You had been out running errands for the last few hours, but the evening had proved to be chillier than you anticipated. You decided to just run home and grab a sweater, assuming you would probably be out late with Nesta. Kicking off your shoes by the door, you made for the stairs.

As soon as you rounded the corner to your hallway, you were greeted by several of Azriel’s shadows.

Suppose he is here then.

The wispy tendrils wrapped themselves around you and begin to gently tug you down the hall. Confused but curious, you followed along hesitantly.

“Is everything okay?” You knew you would never get a response, but you always had a habit of speaking to Azriel’s shadows. You were actually very fond of them.

Several of the shadows trailed up your arms and twined into your hair. Apparently they had grown fond of you as well. The feeling of them against your skin was always something you enjoyed, and you found their presence to be very comforting.

You allowed them to lead you past your own bedroom door and down the hall to Az’s room. You found a few more shadows waiting outside, and they too greeted you warmly. Tugging you forward, the shadows continued to urge you towards the door. “I-I don’t understand…” you whispered to the wisps of darkness.

“(Y/N).”

Your heart stuttered in your chest, and for a moment you questioned if you were hearing things. But you had heard your name, however faint. You were certain of it.

You raised your hand to knock on the door, not wanting to just barge in to Azriel’s room, even if he had presumably called out to you.

Before your fist could make contact with the wood, some of the shadows darted out, turning the knob and silently pushing the door open. You were certain your heart stopped beating as you took in the sight in front of you.

Azriel. With his head tossed back. Face dusted with pink. Large wings splayed across his bed, eyes screwed shut, plump lips parted, legs spread wide, tendrils of shadows trailing down his body.

And he was stark naked.

Oh gods. You should walk away. You should close the door and pretend you never even came home. But by the mother, he was pumping himself with his hand, hips bucking up in response, and you couldn’t help but drink in the beautiful sight and the lovely sounds tumbling from his lips.

This was wrong. You should not be here. You weren’t sure why his shadows had pulled you to his room, but Azriel’s lack of awareness of your presence made it clear this was not intended. And the longer you stood here, watching like a fucking pervert, the stronger the pulsing between your legs grew.

Suddenly your eyes caught on a piece of pink fabric clutched against Azriel’s… well, extremely large member. You quickly took note of the familiar tiny bow peaking out from his hand and you thought your heart was going to break free from your ribcage and leave you standing here like the fool that you were.

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Azriel was lost in his darkest fantasies. He wasn’t sure if it was the long week he had, or the way you had looked in that dress that fit you just right before you had left The House this afternoon, but he just completely gave himself to the pleasure.

And gods he could smell you, stronger than any other time before. Your lovely scent entrapped within the fabric of your panties seemed thicker, sweeter… headier.

Azriel’s eyes flew open, shooting to the other side of the room and he saw you, standing there. Face tinged with red, eyes wide, and chest heaving against your dress.

And he wanted to die.

With an unspoken command, the mass of his shadows flocked to him, some of them unfurling themselves from where they had been twinning around you, and came to conceal his naked form. of course he had left his clothes halfway across the room.

He pushed himself up off the bed and felt heat crawling up his neck all the way to the tips of his ears. He literally could not imagine a worse scenario than this.

Fuck, you would probably hate him after this. This would ruin your friendship for sure. You would want to move out of The House, far far away from him and his demented perversions. Azriel’s mind, once filled with glorious images of you, was now flooded with a whirlwind of thoughts. And none of them were good.

“(Y/N) I-I can explain-“ Azriel managed to stammer out. How could he explain this? He doubted there was any excuse he could come up with that wouldn’t make him look creepy. Maybe you hadn’t seen the panties? He could perhaps say they weren’t yours, even if you had seen, but he wasn’t sure how long you had been standing there.

“Those are mine.” You simply stated, as if you were telling him the sky was blue.

“I…. Well, I-“ gods be damned, this would be a good time to be able to form a cohesive thought. But his racing heart and overwhelming mortification were short circuiting his brain.

“And you said my name.” You took a step forward into the doorway. Azriel’s shadows were obscuring the majority of his body, and at your words, they seemed to grow all the more restless.

Azriel briefly considered winnowing out of his room and fleeing Velaris- No, Prythian. “(Y/N) I am so sorry, shit, I can’t even begin to tell you how sorry. I-I know this is so wrong-“

You took another step forward. Well, you were already knee deep in this horrifically embarassing situation, for both of you it seemed. You may as well see where this takes you. “You can continue… if you are comfortable doing so, that is.”

Azriel’s heart stopped beating for probably the hundredth time in the last 5 minutes. “I… what?” His hazel eyes scanned your face for any sign of mockery or judgment or disgust.

“I was enjoying the show. Quite thoroughly, I must admit.” Your heart was thundering, and you were terrified of what Azriel might think. But you felt the overwhelming need to own up to invading his privacy, to watching him. To take control of this situation.

And he had very clearly been thinking of you… “If you are alright with it, you can carry on. Don’t feel like you must though. I can also leave if you’d like.” You motioned behind you to the door.

“You… aren’t angry with me?” Azriel’s shadows dissipated slightly, now he was visible to you from the chest up.

“Do I seem angry to you?” You asked, managing a smirk that you hoped made you look braver than you truly felt.

Azriel allowed himself to take you in fully now. You had been shocked, yes, but there was also something else dancing in your eyes. And your scent was slightly different than usual. He took a deep breath in, mind going quiet. You were aroused. “No. I suppose you don’t seem angry.”

Azriel allowed his shadows to slowly leave him, some of them choosing to return to you. A chill ran down his spine as he watched your eyes drink in his bare form.

He took a couple steps backward until he could rest on the edge of the bed.

He searched your face again, wanting to ensure that this was really alright with you. Finding no signs of discomfort, he plucked the dainty undergarment from the bedspread and began to tentatively work the material against his still hard cock. “Is this… what you wanted to see?”

Your chest began to rise and fall quickly again and you sucked in a breath at the sight of him. “Yes…” you sighed out, fingers going to the clasp of your dress at your neck. You quickly undid the mechanism and let the material fall and pool at your bare feet.

Azriel’s eyes widened and he let out a soft moan at the beautiful sight. You weren’t wearing a bra and stood before him in only your underwear, the tiny, lacey black pair that had originally caught his eye the very first time he thieved from your chambers.

What in the seven hells was happening? He decided not to question it, tightening his grip on his member and began to stroke more confidently.

Your eyes were glued to him, wandering from his proud wings, across his gorgeous face, down his heavily tattooed chest and muscled stomach, all the way to his scarred hand fisting your fucking panties against himself.

You had desired Azriel for so long, but he never pursued you beyond friendship. The male was notoriously difficult to read, and you were always too afraid to go beyond simply flirting with him in case he truly wasn’t interested in you. You never in your wildest dreams could have imagined this.

You took a few more steps forward, brushing your fingers against the erect tips of your breasts, sighing at the sensation. The pounding between your legs had amplified to an all out ache, and you were more than eager to find out just how far Azriel would let this go.

You now stood before him, between his spread legs, eyes locked to his hazel ones. You brushed back a stray lock of his dark hair, and lightly ran your fingers across his flushed cheek. “Do you enjoy pleasuring yourself with my panties Shadowsinger?” You let your eyes drift back down to where he worked himself.

Azriel was reveling in your sweet touches and felt there was no reason to attempt to deny the claim now. “Yes.” He groaned.

You felt a sudden surge of power, his words stroking your ego like his hand stroked his cock. “And is this the first time you’ve stolen a pair from my room for this purpose?”

Azriel tried to avert his eyes, still feeling ashamed of his actions, but your hand gripped his chin and turned his gaze up to meet yours. If his senses weren’t currently being overwhelmed with the scent of your arousal and you weren’t staring down at him like you wanted to devour him, he would have thought this was some cruel attempt to get him to confess. “No.” He answered honestly.

You smirked at his admittance and you could feel your panties growing more soaked by the second. You dropped to your knees before him and you could not deny that he looked like a god above you. He was absolutely divine. And your face was a mere foot from his cock. This was not at all how you had expected your evening to go, but you certainly weren’t complaining.

You took in the sight of his swollen tip, shaded an angry color of red from lack of release. His pre-cum had soaked both his member and the fabric of your panties, leaving him glistening in the evening light

“Fuck, you are so hard.”

Azriel moaned in response, as he watched you with curious eyes. He wasn’t sure what you were doing, but he loved that you were here with him, and seemed to be just as turned on as he was.

You inched your face a little closer, leaning between his thick thighs. “Oh Azzie, this seems rather uncomfortable. Would you allow me to help you?” You crooned as you looked up at him through your lashes.

Azriel felt like he could die happily any moment now. That nickname and the image of you, between his legs, staring up at him like that, was something that would stick with him long past the grave. However, a thousand protests rose to his mind.

He didn’t want you to feel like you had to do this. He wanted to tell you that you didn’t need to, that you shouldn’t, because he was unworthy of your touch. But he stopped himself.

Everything told him that you wanted this too, wanted him. As hard as it was to believe, he did not think you would be here, responding so… positively, if you didn’t want to. However unworthy he felt that he was, he felt the desire to be selfish more.

He had dreamed of this for so long, and now the opportunity to have you, in whatever capacity, finally has arisen. He would be damned if he didn’t seize it.

“Yes. Please.” He didn’t care if the plead sounded pathetic. He needed you to touch him. Now.

With a grin that could only be described as devilish, you gently grasped his wrist, urging his hand away from his member. He still clutched the now spoiled pink panties in his hand. You tenderly pulled them from his grip, unbunching the material and letting it dangle in the space between you two.

You studied the damp fabric, glancing between it and Azriel’s face. “You’ve made such a pretty mess of these Az. I can tell how much you like them.”

Beyond words and drowning in anticipation, Azriel could only muster a nod in response.

You tossed the underwear across the room to join your dress. Heart pounding in your chest, you slowly gripped Azriel’s cock. You tested the waters with a gentle, almost teasing stroke and you felt him throb in your hand. You quickly glanced up at his face to see if he was still okay with this.

You found him leaned back on his palms and studying you intently, eyes half lidded and filled with desire. The look of sheer need gave you a shot of courage, and you tightened your grip slightly and increased your pace.

Azriel moaned out your name and your core turned to molten at the sound.

“Does that feel good, Az?” You cooed to him, squeezing your legs together in an attempt to relieve some of the pressure there.

“Gods, yes (Y/N). Touch me however you like… please.” He could not stop staring at you, your gorgeous practically naked form, and how small your hand looked wrapped around him.

This was better than any fantasy he had ever conjured up.

You pulled your bottom lip between your teeth at his praise, loving how it sounded in his deep voice. “How about this?” You leaned forward and wrapped your lips around the head of his cock, sucking gingerly.

Azriel short circuited, his entire body shuddering from the feel of your warm, wet mouth on him. He let his head loll back and his eyes flutter closed as a guttural groan reverberated from deep in his chest. “Fuck I- yes.” He gripped the blankets beneath him.

You hummed against him in response. You always felt that Azriel was too hard on himself, punishing himself for gods knew why. You were determined to spoil him with much deserved pleasure.

You licked him from root to stem before taking him deep, one hand working what you could not fit in your mouth, and the other gently caressing his balls.

Sounds that may have been considered embarrassing to some males, spewed from Azriel. He could not help it, nor did he care to hide them. You were making him feel this good and you deserved to hear that. “Sweet girl, shit- that feels incredible.” He growled.

As you continued your ministrations, Azriel worked a hand into your hair. Not forcing your head down, or applying any pressure, just reverently caressing your locks. He finally peered down at you again, discovering you staring back up at him, head bobbing up and down his length and moaning around him. He noticed you had brought one of your hands between your legs and were grinding your clothed cunt against your palm.

You were going to kill him.

You were going to suck him within an inch of his life, and the sight of you touching yourself to pleasuring him was going to send him on to the after life.

Just as Azriel was about to pull you off of him, you released his cock with a pop of your lips. You stood then, placing your hands on Azriel’s firm chest and urging him backwards. “Lay in the center of the bed for me please, Azzie.” You asked sweetly.

Azriel nodded and found himself scrambling backwards, doing as you said and moving to lay back. Azriel rarely ever relinquished control in the bedroom, preferring to service his lovers to their liking. However, he felt very comfortable following your lead and this was actually really lovely. Well, it was far beyond lovely.

You moved to hover over him, straddling his waist and you felt a thrill surge through your body at the sight of the massive Illyrian warrior beneath you. “Is it alright if I try something else?” You asked, still unsure about how much Azriel wanted from you.

He gingerly grasped your hand, one of the first few touches he had allowed himself since this all began, and guided it to his chest where he pinned it beneath his own larger hand. “Of course,” he rasped, “I told you already. Touch me however you like… I am yours.” The admission was vulnerable, but felt so right to him.

Your heart clenched at his words and you nodded, lowering your hips to his. You began to slowly, but firmly grind your still clothed pussy against his length, loosing an airy moan in response to the glorious contact.

“I bet my panties feel much better like this, hm?” You leaned down to murmur in his ear, nipping at his lobe.

Azriel shuddered underneath you, wings twitching against the sheets. “Y-yes, (Y/N). So much better.” His hands hesitantly reached up to grip your waist, giving you time to protest if you wanted. When you showed no objections, he tightened his hold on you and pulled you down against him, harder. Azriel delighted in the noise he drew from you.

He continued dragging your hips across him, both of you breathless at the sensation. “Gods above, you are so gorgeous…” He let one hand travel up to your breast, stroking a thumb across a hard nipple and smiling to himself when you cried out.

“Would you like to see what you’ve done to me?” You breathed against his neck, a hand tracing circles against his chest.

Azriel nodded, then almost protested when you pulled away from him. That was until he saw you standing at the end of the bed, slowly shimmying out of your panties. His breath hitched to see you completely and utterly bare before him, then sputtered out of him when he took in the way you crawled up the bed towards him.

Kneeling beside him, you pressed the soaked cotton of your underwear into Azriel’s hand. “You’ve turned me into a complete mess Az…” you confessed.

Azriel took in the absolutely drenched material, and let out an almost animalistic groan when he scented your arousal coating the fabric. “All of this is for me? I’ve barely gotten the chance to touch you yet.” He would be lying if he said that wasn’t a major boost to his ego.

He slipped an arm around your waist and turned, pinning you beneath him and slotting himself between your legs. “Let me change that…”

He pressed messy kisses along the length of your neck, sharp teeth grazing over a particularly sensitive area. Azriel reveled in the sound of your breathless moan and the way you pulled him tighter.

He dipped his head to lav at a nipple, rolling the other between his thumb and forefinger before latching his lips around the sensitive bud. Azriel slid a well muscled thigh against your leaking cunt, applying just enough pressure to have you gasping for air.

He did not miss how you rocked your hips against him, desperate for friction.

Thus far, Azriel had allowed you to take the lead, to show him how much you wanted from him, making him feel better than anyone ever had before. Now, Azriel wanted to return the favor and show you how good he can make you feel.

He kissed a path between your breasts and down your stomach, glancing up to find your bottom lip between your teeth and eyes pressed closed. He worked his way lower, and lower, until all he could smell was your heated sweetness.

He inhaled deeply, and let out a long breath that fanned against your sensitive cunt, causing chills to erupt all over your body.

Guiding each of your legs over his shoulders, his hands found purchase on your thighs, spreading you open for him. He placed a couple of gentle nips along the inside of your thigh, before softly asking “Is this alright?”

“Yes. Gods, yes.” You excitedly nodded your head, as if you took too long to answer he may change his mind. Although, a quick glance down at Azriel’s face told you that wasn’t the case. He stared up at you like you were his favorite meal. You lifted your hips slightly, urging yourself closer to his mouth.

He huffed a laugh before pinning you back down to the bed. “Try to stay still for me, sweet girl. Want to make you feel good.” And then his tongue was upon you. He licked a strip right up your center, expertly locating the sensitive bundle of nerves and swirling around it.

White hot pleasure shot up your spine, and you cried out. Hands searching for more contact, you reached down and entangled your fingers in his dark locks, Azriel rewarding you with a low growl when you pulled slightly.

His mouth was maddening. It was like he already knew all of your favorite things as he stroked your clit with the warm velvet of his tongue. Every time you managed to crack your eyes open, you found hazel ones staring back at you, full of hunger and reverence. He kept your hips throughly pinned down, leaving you no choice but to take everything he was giving you.

Suddenly, you felt a cool brush against your collar bone and looked down to find several of his shadows curiously exploring you. The inky tendrils wound themselves around your nipples, the ghost of a touch just enough to drive you crazy, just as Azriel wrapped his lips around your clit and sucked.

Every thought in your head ceased to exist and your back arched away from the sheets. A wanton scream tore its way up your throat and you fisted Azriel’s hair tightly, which only seemed to spur him on more.

“Fuck Azriel, there- yes!” You babbled as his grip on your hips loosened slightly, allowing you to wind your hips against his mouth. And mother above he was moaning into your pussy and… oh gods.

You raised your head and watched him unabashedly rut into the mattress, just as needy as you were.

And that was nearly your breaking point. Seeing this beautiful male, wings spread behind him, letting you fuck yourself on his face, shadows twining around your body. You were not like to forget this as long as you lived.

Right as you teetered on the edge of oblivion, you pulled him off of you quickly. “Azriel… need you. Want to cum on your cock. Please.”

“As you wish.” Azriel rose slowly, chin glistening with your slick, and placed his aching cock where his face had just been.

He leaned down and studied your pretty face intently, sliding one scarred hand to your jaw. He then pressed his lips against yours, the kiss searing his very soul.

This was the first time his lips had ever touched yours, other than that one drunken night when you all had played spin the bottle. Although that kiss had kept him up for many nights, it was nothing like this.

“Can you taste yourself? Can you taste how sweet you are? Could spend an eternity with my face between those beautiful legs…” Az mumbled against you.

“Y-yes. I want you to show me more of what you can do with that mouth another time.” You grinned up at him.

Another time. His heart leapt at that. Azriel had not allowed himself to think past this moment, for fear that this could be the first and only time he experienced you this way. Yes, he could show you everything he knew and more.

Grabbing the base of his cock, he lined himself up with your entrance, and pressed his forehead against yours. He ever so slightly began to push in. You were soaking wet, but you were also extremely tight and the last thing he wanted to do was hurt you.

The stretch burned, but not in a way that was painful, just uncomfortable. Holy gods he was huge. You felt his shadows run up and down your arms in a soothing caress, Azriel’s hand at your waist mimicking their motions.

Once his hips were flush with yours, you both sat utterly still, chests heaving against each other. Azriel fought back the urge to thrust as he allowed your body to adjust to his size. “Are you alright, Princess?” He cooed, pressing a tender kiss to your cheek.

“Yes… Azzie. Please.” You began to squirm underneath him, unable to patiently wait any longer.

“I know, sweet girl. I just don’t want to hurt you.” He brushed a loose strand of hair back that had fallen into your face.

“I appreciate your concern Azriel, but I will die if you don’t move. I need you to move.” You pleaded, fingers digging into his muscular shoulders.

Without another moment of hesitation, Azriel slowly drew out of you before pressing back in to the hilt. He had never, never, felt anything as good as this before. He knew that with just the first fucking stroke, he was losing himself to you

“Fucking hells (Y/N). You’re so godsdamned tight… feel so good on my cock sweet girl.”

You cried out at both the sensation and his words, any feelings of discomfort giving way to burning hot pleasure as Azriel fucked you slow and deep. The normally stoic and reserved Shadowsinger was passionate, shocking you with how intently and thoroughly he was loving you.

Azriel angled his hips, rutting in to you at a slightly faster pace now. He buried his face deep into your neck, panting and moaning like he was young male all over again. He was trying his best to fuck you the way you deserved, but it was already so difficult to not unravel completely.

“Azriel…” you moaned his name like it was a prayer, “gods you’re so big… stretching me out just right. You have no idea how many times I’ve thought about this.” You pulled his face to yours for another searing kiss, carding your fingers through his soft hair.

Azriel was genuinely surprised that you had thought about this with him, and the confession only turned him on more. He sped up his pace more, pulling back slightly to watch you.

And you stared back at him. You took in the massive wings looming behind Azriel, noticing how they twitched every so often, like they were restless. You remembered one drunken night that Azriel had admitted to you that the rumors about Illyrian wings were in fact true, but that he very rarely felt comfortable enough to allow his lovers to actually touch them.

You wanted so badly to run your fingers down the beautiful membrane. Not only to see his reaction for yourself, but also because you wanted to feel special to him.

Maybe that was foolish, and maybe this whole situation was no more than a manifestation of your shared physical attraction and nothing more. But you could not stop yourself from wanting. “Az… may I touch your wings?” You asked nervously, afraid to ruin the moment.

Azriel drove home a particularly deep stroke, causing you to cry out and tremble around him. His hand came up to guide your eyes to his, and his stare was molten. “I’ve already told you baby, touch me however you like.”

Your heart squeezed at the fact that he felt safe enough with you to allow you to touch him in a way he rarely let others.

You nodded, taking in his words through the haze of pleasure. You reached out slowly, fingertips just inches from his wings. “H-how?” Your hand remained hovering in the air, unsure.

He huffed a laugh that turned into a groan as his hips met yours. “However feels natural to you. There’s no wrong way, just be gentle.” He extended a wing, offering you better access.

You searched his face for any signs of discomfort or hesitancy. Finding none, you simply nodded and ever so lightly grazed your finger tips across the ridge of his wing.

Azriel’s entire body went taught as a bowstring before he shook, the most delectable whimper working its way out of him. His fingers found that sensitive bundle of nerves between your legs and began to draw quick, tight circles against it.

You were certain the entirety of Velaris could hear your sounds of pleasure now. You placed another exploratory stroke on a different part of his wing, and continued when you saw the way Azriel’s eyes screwed shut and his brow furrowed.

“If you keep doing that you are going to make me-“ Azriel was interrupted when the soft pads of your fingers rubbed against a particularly sensitive spot.

His hips faltered, a string of curses tumbling from his lips as he went careening over the edge and into the abyss of ecstasy, crying out your name and hips snapping against yours.

At the feel of his fingers against your clit, his shadows caressing your body, and his warm seed pumping deep inside you, you came completely undone on his cock. Consumed by burning pleasure, all thoughts eddied out of your brain except for Azriel.

For several moments the two of you remained there, chests heaving against each other, both attempting to unscramble your minds. Azriel eventually pulled out rather reluctantly. “Sit tight.” He murmured against your heated skin, before disappearing from sight.

Minutes later, Azriel reappeared with a wet rag in one hand and a glass of ice water in the other. He set the glass on the table before turning back to you, using the rag to clean you up. “Are you alright?” His eyes flickered between your face and his hands.

You nodded, a grin blooming on your face. “I think I’m more than alright Az. Are you alright?” You parroted his question back to him.

“Yeah. Yes. I am… maybe a little surprised that we somehow ended up here, but I’m glad that we did.” He offered you a grin to match your own that showed his dimples.

His hand found your back, helping you to sit up, and he situated you against the mountain of pillows on his bed before handing you the glass of water. “Here. Drink.”

You accepted the refreshing drink greedily, drinking about half the glass in just a few gulps. Offering the drink back to Azriel, you cleared your throat. “I myself am surprised as well. This was… not really what I expected of my evening. Or ever honestly.” You gave a small shrug.

Azriel settled in beside you, pulling the fluffy duvet up to cover you both. “(Y/N) I do really need to apologize for what I did-what I’ve been doing…” he studied his lap intently, suddenly finding the bed spread mighty interesting.

“It was wrong. Very wrong. I shouldn’t have entered your room without your permission, let alone rummage through your dresser and…” he trailed off, feeling red hot shame creep up his neck.

“And steal my underwear?” You finished for him, brows raising in amusement.

“Yes. That. It was an extreme invasion of your privacy, and wrong on so many levels. If you never want to speak of this again, or never want to speak to me again… I would understand.” Azriel could not bring himself to look at you, to see what you might be feeling.

You gripped his jaw, guiding his gaze back to you. “Az… I told you already, I’m not angry with you. I felt like I proved that rather thoroughly, but I will say it again. You are my friend Azriel. None of this changes that fact. If you are open to it, I’d actually like to do more of… this.” You motioned between the two of you and gave him a big smile.

“I-I am definitely open to it. I would like that very much. I guess you could say I’ve had a bit of a crush on you for a while now…” Azriel glanced at you with heated cheeks and a dimple peeking out as he rubbed the back of his neck.

You let out a breathless laugh, the sound making Azriel’s heart jump in his chest. “Well I guess I can now admit that the feeling is mutual.” You snuggled down into the pillows further, cherishing the warmth of his body next to yours.

Azriel turned to you, propping his head up on a fist. “Are you hungry?”

“Starving. I was actually supposed to meet Nesta for dinner.” You glanced to the window in Azriel’s room, noticing that the sun had already slipped below the ridge. “She is probably pissed I stood her up, but there’s no sense in going now… and I’d like to stay with you.”

Azriel grinned at you then. “Well perhaps you would consider sharing a meal with me? We can stay here if you want.”

You agreed eagerly and Azriel offered you one of his large, but incredibly soft shirts to wear even though your room was just down the hall. You cherished the feel of the material against your otherwise naked body, his scent surrounding you, the shirt reaching your knees. It made you feel special.

Azriel had the house whip you up your favorite foods and the two of you stayed in his room for the remainder of the evening, chatting and swapping stories as usual. However things definitely felt…. different between the two of you. But in a good way. In the best way.

You must have dozed off eventually, because you awoke to the early morning sun spilling in through Azriel’s parted curtains. You quickly realized that Azriel himself was curled around you, one arm slung over your waist and your back pressed to his chest.

Feeling you stir, he mumbled a groggy good morning, voice rough with sleep. You would be lying if you said the sound didn’t send heat straight to your core all over again.

You turned in his grip to face him, “good morning…” you brushed a couple of your wild strands of hair back from your face and cleared your throat. “I’m sorry if I have over stayed my welcome. I didn’t intend to fall asleep here last night.” You studied his face for any sign of annoyance.

One side of his lips tipped up in a lazy grin, revealing a dimple. “Nonsense. I’ve enjoyed your company... even if you did snore.”

Your eyes widened for a moment, face growing hot. “I do not snore Azriel! I think I would know if I did.” You protested, brow furrowing.

Azriel’s grin only grew, amusement sparkling in his eyes. “And how would you know that?”

“Well I’ve never had any complaints about it before.” You explained, praying to the gods that you actually didn’t snore the very first night you ever spent in Azriel’s bed.

Tracing lazy circles on your side, Azriel’s eyes perused your form. You looked so beautiful wrapped in his huge shirt, blankets pulled up over your hips, hair askew in a thousand different directions.

“Perhaps they were just too polite to mention it?” His gaze flicked back up to yours, unable to hide his full on smile at your flustered responses to his teasing.

“You could have done me the same courtesy, asshole.” You shoved his bare chest playfully causing a laugh to spill from Azriel’s lips. Despite what happened yesterday, things felt… comfortable.

You reluctantly untangled yourself from his arms, sitting up to stretch. “I better go inform Nesta that I’m still alive. She’s probably assuming someone kidnapped me last night.”

“I pity the person who would try to kidnap you.” Azriel placed an arm behind his head, watching you shuffle out of the bed, secretly wishing you would stay longer.

You snorted. “True. I also better find a peace offering to give her as well, as an apology for flaking on our dinner date.” You turned to Azriel then, drinking in the sight of him sprawled on his back, blankets pooling around his waist, tattoos swirling down his bare chest and arms. Gods, he was delectable and you wanted to jump his bones all over again.

Azriel was staring at you as well, admiring the length of your bare legs and how his shirt hung down to almost your knees. A surge of male satisfaction flowed through him at the sight. “I think that’s a good idea. I apologize for ruining your plans.” Azriel wasn’t sorry in the slightest.

You gave him another big smile, something you found happening very frequently when he was around. “You can ruin my plans anytime you’d like Shadowsinger.” You began gathering your belongings, preparing to make the trek down the hall to your own quarters. “I’ll see you later, yeah?”

Azriel nodded. “Anytime you’d like.” He parroted your earlier words back to you.

You bid Azriel goodbye and began making your way out the door, your pile of clothes filing your arms, when you heard Az call out your name.

Turning back towards him, you found him holding up your lacy black panties from yesterday, a smirk plastered on his face. “I think you’re forgetting these.”

You gave a one shouldered shrug, one corner of your lips curling to match Azriel’s. “You can just hang on to those for me.” Watching his eyes widen, you closed the door behind you, smiling all the way down the hall to your own room, and already counting down the seconds until you could see the Shadowsinger again.

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EEEEK i had SO much fun writing this!! feel free to let me know what you liked, i always appreciate feedback 🫶🏼.

[orangeblossomsintheair]

BUTCHERED TONGUE | CS55

summary : carlos is going to teach you spanish whether you like it or not.

wc: 0.9k

an : this is a thing my bf does to me so i thought it’d be cute :> non-spanish speaking reader!!

Carlos’ latest obsession is, by far, the most infuriating one yet.

Forget about his short-lived fascination with perfecting latte art or his undying allegiance to the soccer team he won’t shut up about. No, this is worse.

He has declared it his personal mission to teach you Spanish.

The most maddening part? His methods. Subtle? No. Gentle? Not a chance. He’s decided that every sweet moment between you is an opportunity to slip in a little Español.

You’re tangled in the blankets, half-asleep, basking in the comfort of a warm bed when you feel the mattress dip beside you. A soft breath brushes against your cheek, then, nothing. Silence.

Your eyes remain closed, waiting for the familiar morning kiss.

Nothing.

You frown. “…Carlos?”

“Hmm?”

“You’re just… sitting there?”

A pause. Then, his voice, far too smug for the hour, “I’m waiting.”

“For what?” you mumble, burrowing deeper into the blankets.

“For you to ask me properly.”

You crack one eye open. He’s leaning over you, grinning like a cat who caught the canary. “Carlos,” you groan, “kiss me.”

He clicks his tongue, shaking his head. “No, no, no, bebé. En español, por favor.” in spanish, please

Your glare could set the room on fire. “Carlos, it’s too early for this.”

“¿Demasiado temprano para aprender?” Too early to learn?

He gasps dramatically. “Nunca es demasiado temprano para aprender español.” It's never too early to learn Spanish

You groan louder, rolling onto your stomach. “You’re ridiculous.”

“I’m a dedicated teacher.”

“You’re an obnoxious teacher.”

Carlos leans in closer, lips hovering just out of reach. “Say it. Dámelo.”

Your brain, still fogged with sleep, tries to piece together his demand. “Dámelo… what does that even mean?”

His grin widens. “It means ‘give it to me.’ Very fitting, no?”

You grab a pillow and launch it at his face. He catches it effortlessly, laughing.

“¡Violencia!” he cries, clutching the pillow to his chest. “Is this how you treat your teacher? After all I do for you?”

“Carlos,” you growl.

“Yes, mi amor?”

“Just. Kiss. Me.”

He leans down, lips brushing your ear. “Pídemelo bien.” Ask me better.

You let out a strangled noise. “You’re impossible!”

“I’m waiting~”

You squeeze your eyes shut, gathering the shreds of your dignity. “Carlos, dame un beso.” Carlos, give me a kiss

A satisfied hum leaves his throat. “Mmm, qué bonita suenas cuando hablas español.” Mmm, you sound beautiful when you speak Spanish

And finally—finally—his lips meet yours, soft and warm. You melt instantly, fingers curling into his shirt, pulling him closer.

But it’s over too quickly.

You blink up at him, betrayed. “That’s it?”

He taps his lips. “Your pronunciation was a little off.”

Your mouth drops open. “Excuse me?!”

Carlos laughs, dodging the swipe you aim at him. “Relax, bebé, I’m kidding. Mostly.” He settles back on his elbows, still grinning. “But if you want another one… conjugate el verbo ‘besar’ en presente.” Conjugate the verb 'to kiss' in the present tense

You groan so loudly it rattles the windows. “Carlos!”

“What? It’s very simple. Yo beso, tú besas, él besa…” I kiss, you kiss, he kisses

“Nosotros rompemos,” you snap, throwing the blankets over your head. We're breaking up

Carlos bursts into laughter. “Oh, so now you can conjugate!”

You peek out just enough to glare at him. “You are so lucky you’re cute.”

He smirks, leaning in to kiss your forehead. “Y tú eres muy afortunada de tenerme.” And you are very lucky to have me

You huff but can’t fight the small smile tugging at your lips. “Fine. What’s ‘kiss me again’ in Spanish?”

Carlos lights up like you handed him a trophy. “Bésame otra vez.”

You try to repeat it, but your tongue stumbles. “Bes…a…me otra vez?”

His eyes soften. “Perfecto.”

You hum, feigning thoughtfulness. “And what’s ‘stop being annoying’?”

Carlos gasps. “Deja de ser molesto. But that’s not nearly as romantic.”

“Oh, but it’s accurate.”

“You wound me.” He clutches his chest. “After all this effort to enrich your mind-”

“To torture me.”

“-to nurture your linguistic abilities-”

“Molesto.” Annoying

Carlos leans in, eyes gleaming. “You love it.”

Unfortunately, you kind of do.

—-

Later, Carlos continues his relentless campaign.

You’re in the kitchen, trying to make coffee, when arms wrap around your waist. A chin rests on your shoulder.

“¿Qué haces?” he murmurs into your neck. What're you doing?

You sigh. “Trying to survive.”

“That’s not Spanish.”

“I’m ignoring you.”

“That’s also not Spanish.”

You sigh deeply. “Estoy… intentando… sobrevivir.” I'm trying to survive

Carlos squeezes you, proud. “¡Muy bien!” Very good

“Coffee first. Spanish later.”

“Coffee is Spanish. Café.”

You elbow him lightly. “Stop.”

He laughs but doesn’t let go. “Okay, okay. But when you drink it, say está delicioso.”

“If I spill it on you, that’s intentional.”

“Intencional. Good job, bebé!”

You groan but can’t help laughing.

—-

By afternoon, Carlos has moved on to labeling objects around the house with sticky notes.

You walk into the living room and find the remote with a bright yellow note: control remoto.

The fridge: refrigerador.

Even the dog is not spared, a tiny note precariously taped to its collar: perro.

You stare at Carlos, who is sitting smugly on the couch.

“Really?”

“What? Visual aids are very effective.”

“You labeled the dog.”

Carlos shrugs. “Perro needs to know who he is.”

The dog glares at him and stalks off.

You pluck a sticky note off the lamp. “This is getting out of hand.”

Carlos leans forward. “You’re learning, though.”

“I’m learning to throw these at you.”

“Lánzamelos. Go ahead.” Throw them at me

You throw one at his forehead. It sticks. He doesn’t even blink.

“Wow. Fluent.”

—-

By evening, you’re curled up on the couch, Carlos half-asleep beside you.

“You’re ridiculous, you know that?” you murmur.

“Mmm. Ridículo.”

You nudge him. “I’m serious.”

His eyes crack open, lazy and soft. “But you’re learning.”

You sigh, letting your head fall onto his shoulder. “Yeah, yeah.”

Carlos smiles, eyes closing again. “Te quiero, bebé.” I love you, baby

You smile against his shirt. “Love you too.”

A beat.

“Say it in Spanish.”

You groan into his chest. “Carlos-”

“Come on…”

“…Yo también te quiero.” I love you too

Carlos hums contentedly, pressing a kiss to your hair. “Perfecta.”

[lanadelnegan]

Cherry 🍒

S7 Negan x Virgin Female Reader

Summary: You sneak into Negan’s bed in the middle of the night and seduce him into ‘popping your cherry.’

Warnings: 18+, smut, age-gap (reader is 18, Negan is mid 40's), unprotected sex, Negan taking your virginity & being sweet with you, mentions of family death, bleeding during sex, oral (both receiving), sitting on Negan’s face, breeding

Note: this is pure filth. If you’re uncomfortable with extreme age-gaps, please don’t read.

You shivered as your bare feet quietly shuffled down the cold hallway, stopping right outside the leader's bedroom door. The sounds of Negan's light snoring filtered through the cracks as you softly pushed the door open, pleased to find it unlocked. You tiptoed your way over to the empty side of his bed before sliding underneath his soft white sheets and inhaling the unique scent of him - leather and fresh linen.

You've always felt comfortable with him. Negan welcomed you to the sanctuary with open arms about a year ago when you were seventeen, after your father passed away. His men found you walking along the road one day and brought you back to Negan, who immediately took you under his wing and made you feel safe for the first time since your father died.

You're not like his wives. More like the daughter he never had and he's made that boundary crystal clear on more than one occasion. You've made several subtle advances towards Negan in the past.. All of which he has politely rejected by changing the subject or blatantly ignoring you.

Still, this doesn't stop you from quietly moaning his name when you touch yourself at night.

"Negan.." You whispered cautiously as you snuggled into the sheets. This wasn't the first time you crawled into his bed at night, feeding him lies about nightmares you never even had. However, this time.. you were determined to get what you wanted.

During your recent previous attempts, you'd remain on your side of the bed and Negan wouldn't even know you were there usually until the next morning - lecturing you when you woke up about how sneaking into his bed is inappropriate. You hated when he used that word. Like a strict school teacher.

A few moments of silence passed until you boldly shuffled closer to him, wrapping your hand around his arm and snuggling your face into his bicep. You breathed in the intoxicating aroma of his soft skin as your legs delicately pressed into his underneath the blanket.

"The hell are you doin' y/n?" He asked, his sleepy voice deeper and raspier than usual and it made your heart flutter.

"Can't sleep."

"I think we both know you're lyin', doll. You know you can't stay in here. We've had this discussion. It's ina-"

"Yeah yeah I know. Inappropriate, geez." You interrupted him, rolling your eyes in the dark.

"Exactly, so why are you in my bed?"

"My.. dreams. They keep waking me up."

"Nightmares again?" He asked, using a softer tone this time.

"No.. no nightmares this time. Just.. dreams."

Negan shifted uncomfortably next to you, scooting up a little in the bed and wrapping his arm around you in the process. "What kinda dreams, doll?"

You snuggled into the nook of his armpit, getting practically drunk off his manly smell as your hand carelessly glided over his shirtless, hairy torso until settling on his lower abdomen.

Without missing a beat, Negan placed his hand over yours, moving it higher on his torso. "Y/n.." He said like a warning, sternness dripping from his tone.

You ignored him, refocusing your attention back to his previous question. "I dunno.. they're just.. like.. sexual dreams, and then I wake up and I'm all frustrated because I don't know what I'm doing-"

"Stop." He sighed with frustration, running a hand down his face. "Fucking christ, y/n. You cannot say shit like that in front of me."

"Why not? It's not like you're my daddy or anything." You teased him, sliding your hand to his lower stomach once again. You almost whimpered when your fingertips brushed over the soft curls peaking out of the waistband of his boxers and your stomach fluttered when he didn't stop you this time.

He let out a long sigh, glancing down to your hand that teased the sensitive skin under his waistband. "Baby...fuck. We can't." He said almost painfully.

"Okay.. I get it." You said defeatedly, removing your hand and shifting to turn over before he stopped you, pulling you back in.

He sighed, like he was about to regret asking you this. "What happens.. in your dreams?"

With the moonlight beaming through the window, you managed to catch a glimpse of the lust that flickered in his gaze before his hazel eyes dropped to your lips.

"You treat me different.. like.. one of your wives."

"Yeah? And how's that, baby?" He asked curiously as his lips hovered next to yours.

"You.. kiss them." You stated hesitantly, hoping it was dark enough in the room that he couldn't see your cheeks burning red.

"Oh? Are you jealous, doll?"

"...a little." You admitted, making him chuckle.

He tilted your chin up, lightly gripping your jawline as his eyes dropped to your lips. He stared at them as if he was contemplating if he should give you what you want.

"One kiss, y/n." He said, closing the gap between you and pressing his soft lips to yours. You whimpered into his mouth, earning a slight smirk from him as he pushed his talented tongue past your lips. You couldn't believe you were finally tasting him and you savored every second of it.

He kissed you until your lips were sore, tangling his fingers through your hair and groaning every now and then, making your panties soaked.

You slid your leg over his until his muscular thigh was pressed right up against your aching center and you couldn't help but grind against it, desperate for some friction.

"Y/n." He warned, knowing what you were doing beneath the covers.

"Please, Negan."

His solid erection pressed into your stomach each time you moved your body against his and you imagined the way it would feel inside of you.

“Please what?” He said in between kisses, allowing you to use his thigh to get yourself off.

“Please let me come."

"I'm not touching you, y/n. But I can't stop you from coming."

And that was all the permission you needed to grind against him harder and bring yourself to an orgasm just from humping his thigh.

You buried your face against his neck and rode out your high, whining and whimpering as you soaked through your panties. "Oh my god, oh my god, Negannnn."

"Satisfied now, doll?" He chuckled.

"No.. I need this." You said, pressing your palm against the hard bulge in his boxers. "Please."

"You don't know what you're asking for, sweetheart."

"I do, Negan. I know exactly what I want.. And I've wanted you for so long." You kissed his neck as you rubbed his cock through the material. "I see the way you look at me. I know you want me too."

He sighed, accepting that you were right. "Maybe. But we can't always get what we want, doll."

You grinned, taking that as a challenge as you slid lower beneath the blanket, kissing his chest. "Why not?"

"Baby.."

"If you tell me to stop, I'll stop." You said, wanting to earn his consent before climbing over his legs and settling in between them. He sighed again, turning all the way over on his back to allow you better access.

You licked a line from the bottom of the trail of hair that led up to his belly button, earning a moan from him as he slightly lifted his hips in response. "Baby, you don't have to-"

"You said you wouldn't touch me, but you didn't say I couldn't touch you." You explained, pulling his boxers down slowly. You watched closely as his cock sprung free, and your mouth practically watered at the sight of it. You wondered how you'd fit it in your mouth, much less your pussy.

"It's so.. big.." You said, wrapping your hand around it. Your mouth fell slightly open at the velvety feeling of it as you stroked it up and down in your palm.

Negan was propped up on his elbows as he watched you through heavy, lust-filled eyelids. For once, he was speechless, waiting for your next move.

You lowered your head, taking the tip of him into your mouth and wrapping your lips around it softly. You sucked on just the tip as you looked up at him through your brows and watched his head fall back while the prominent vein in his neck bulged against his skin. Lowering yourself deeper, he let out a long groan when he felt himself in the back of your throat.

"Fuuuuuck, baby. Feels so fuckin' good."

You bobbed your head up and down on him until your jaw ached, wanting to make him proud. Finally, he pulled your head off of his length, and you watched as the precum leaked from his red, swollen tip. His breaths were heavy as he looked down at you. "Fuck, that's enough. You're gonna make me come, sweetheart.

"I want to taste you, Negan.. please?" You begged, looking up at him innocently.

"Yeah? You want me to come in your mouth?"

You nodded as wrapped your lips around his thick length again, tasting the bead of salty precum. You moaned at the new taste, sucking firmly over and over until you felt more of his warm liquid spurt out, coating the back of your throat. You moaned around him again, not taking your mouth off of his cock until you swallowed every drop.

Sweat ran down the side of his face and his chest rose and fell heavily as he watched you. "Goddamn. What happened to my sweet, innocent girl, huh? When did you learn to suck cock like that?"

"Just now. That was my first time." You shrugged, shuffling up his body until your legs straddled his waist and you pulled your shirt over your head, tossing it on the floor and exposing your perky, bare breasts to him.

You pinched your own nipples teasingly as you bit you lip and stared down at him.

"Fuck, you are so beautiful.” He said, watching you play with your nipples.

"You don't wanna touch?" You pouted, sticking out your bottom lip.

"Of course I wanna fuckin' touch you, y/n. You have no idea. I wanna touch every inch of you." He sighed, leaning up on his elbows again until his face was inches away from your chest. "But, I can't."

"Then don't use your hands.. lick me instead." You insisted.

He looked up at you through his brows before his gaze returned to your breasts. You leaned forward, brushing your nipple against his beard until it hardened even more. When it brushed his lips, he instantly took it into his mouth and groaned, sucking it gently. After a few moments, he switched to the other one, flicking his tongue against it. Your head fell back while your fingers intertwined in his slick, black hair.

"Negannn." You breathed out, and he finally pulled away.

"Take those panties off and sit on my fucking face. Now." He demanded, laying flat on his back.

You eagerly obeyed him, quickly removing your panties and climbing over his face before lowering yourself down slowly. You hovered over him lightly, not wanting to press all the way down until his hands roughly pulled you closer.

"I said, sit." He said before burying his face in your cunt. The tip of his nose pressed against your clit as his tongue devoured your dripping hole and he moaned with approval.

You lifted slightly, being too sensitive too his touch, but he leaned forward, taking your clit between his lips and sucking. You cried out as your orgasm instantly rushed through you and you soaked his face. You came hard and fast, but he didn't mind as he moaned loudly, lapping up your juices. You tried to climb off of him, but he held you in place, still licking you like his life depended on it.

"Negan.." You blushed.

"Hm?"

"That's enough." You giggled.

"I'll never get enough of this sweet pussy, doll. You wanted me, now you've fuckin' got me."

His words made the butterflies somersault in your chest. You hoped he meant it. You hoped he loved you the way you loved him.

"Lay down for me." He said, finally letting you climb off of him.

You did as he said, getting comfortable on your back as he crawled over you and settled between your legs. Looking down, you noticed he was rock hard again and he rubbed the tip of his cock teasingly in between your wet folds.

"Negan.. I need to tell you something."

"Hm? What is it, doll?" He asked, leaning over you and holding himself up with his palms on either side of your head on the mattress.

"I-I've never done this before."

He smirked, looking into your eyes. "I know."

"What do you mean you know?"

"I hear everything in this place, y/n. I've heard you talking about me to your friends." He pressed his lips to yours before looking at you again. "I've heard you moaning my name at night in your bed while you touch that pretty pussy. I know everything about you, doll. I pay attention, even when you think I'm not."

You blushed at his words as you stared up at him speechless, making his smile widen. "So adorable when you're embarrassed."

He kissed you again, so hard that it took your breath away and in that moment, you knew you were head over heels in love with this man. You just wondered if he felt the same.

“What else happens in your dreams, baby? Do you let me fuck this little pussy?” He whispered in your ear, causing a chill to run down your spine.

“Y-yes.” You managed to choke out, making him chuckle.

He leaned back up, placing one of your legs over his shoulder as the other fell open for him.

“You ready for me to break you in, sweetheart? Pop that sweet little cherry?”

"Fuck, yes. Please." You whined, scooting closer to him until the tip of his cock brushed against your sex.

Negan chuckled lowly, pressing the head of his cock right against your hole. He watched you intensely as he pushed just the tip in, stopping before he went any further.

“You good, baby?” He asked, making sure you were good to continue. Once you nodded, he slid slightly deeper, feeling resistance before pushing through with a force.

You cried out at the sudden ripping sensation, making him stop again.

“No.. keep going.” You urged him, already aching from how he was stretching you, but you needed him to fill you completely. So he did, pushing himself all the way in with one swift thrust.

Your mouth fell open silently as he pressed against your cervix and let out a growl.

He fell over you again, kissing your lips as he thrusted into you at a steady pace. “You did it, baby.” He praised you softly. “I am so fuckin proud of you.”

He moved slowly, making you deliberately feel every inch of him. He repeated this motion until your face was on fire and your lower abdomen tingled.

"Fuck, y/n. You are so fucking tight." He said through gritted teeth, looking down between the two of you as he leaned back up on his knees.

"Oh fuuck, look. at. that, doll."

You leaned up on your elbows, looking down and widening your eyes when Negan pulled out of you, revealing his blood covered cock.

His thumb reached down to swipe a trail of your blood off his dick before bringing it to this mouth. You watched him enamored as his eyes rolled to the back of his head at the taste of you and he moaned with satisfaction. You blushed hard at the sight of Negan tasting your blood.

“Who do you belong to?”

“Negan.” You answered without question, following it with a moan as he pushed back into you without warning.

“That’s right, doll. This pussy? Is mine now. Understood?”

“Y-yes sir.” You cried, as he pumped into you faster.

"Ow. Ow, fuck. It hurts."

“I know baby. I know. You want me to stop?”

“No.” You said quickly. “Please don’t stop. I want it harder.”

He smiled down at you proudly as his hips bucked into you harder and your eyes clenched shut as your fingers gripped the sheets.

Looking down between the two of you again, he groaned at the sight of your blood completely coating his cock and leaking out of you with each thrust.

You whined and whimpered, desperately wanting to come again. He grinned knowingly, pressing his thumb to your clit and making your body shutter. "You gonna come on my cock, sweetheart?"

You nodded as tears flooded your eyes and his finger started working over your clit more intensely.

"Yes, yes. Please make me come."

He fucked you fast and rubbed your clit in perfect circles, watching you come undone around him. Once your walls were done convulsing around him, he fell over you again, kissing your neck and groaning in your ear. "That's it. That's my good girl."

Wet noises filled the air as he fucked you unforgivably hard. "You gonna let me cum in this pussy, baby?" He asked, biting your earlobe.

You couldn't speak, so you nodded as your vision went cloudy and his thrusts became more erratic until he stopped suddenly, pushing himself balls deep inside of you as his dick pumped you full of cum and he growled in your ear.

"Fuck, fuck, fuuuck, baby." His thrusts started again, soft and light this time as he pushed his seed deeper inside of you. He kissed your jawline, then your lips, before pulling back slightly to look into your eyes.

"Y/n... I love you. I love you so much, sweetheart. And goddamn I love this pussy."

[dollfacefantasy]

ROLE REVERSAL ♡

pairing: leon kennedy x fem!reader

summary: leon finds his old raccoon city uniform. instead of letting the past haunt him, he dresses you in it. it looks much prettier that way.

cw: nsfw (18+), smut, p in v, masturbation, officer/criminal roleplay, handcuffs

a/n: for my leon babies, i hope you all enjoy <3

kinktober slot: day 5 - roleplay

The points of your heels click against the hardwood slats on the floor of the bedroom. Thin and elegant, the tips slick and triangular. Your boyfriend watches you waltz into the room from his spot on your shared bed. The sharp post at the center of the head board supported his hands, bound by a shiny pair of silver handcuffs.

"You're in a lot of trouble, Mr. Kennedy. Do you know why you're here today?" your voice asks, floating through the room in a seductive melody.

His eyes flit up and down over your figure. Your curves were clad in his police uniform. The spare one that hadn't seen the blood and guts of September 30th, 1998. The pale blue fabric remained pristine and bright. The golden badge on your breast glimmered as if Leon actually got to put it to good use. 

But he didn't have to think about that right now. Didn't have to remember how his life's dream had withered away with everything else in the nuclear blast. Instead he could look at you. How the cerulean polyester fits snug around your waist and chest. How you had the fabric tied into a little knot above your navel. How the pair of navy blue lace panties you had on below set off the light shade above perfectly.

A low whistle leaves his lips.

"No, sweetheart. But I gotta say, you look better in that old thing than I ever did," he responds.

A smile comes over your painted lips, but you still roll your eyes and stamp your heel.

"Leon!" you huff, "You agreed to do this, so you have to stay in character. That's not how you talk to an officer of the law."

"Oh, you're right. My mistake, officer," he says with a smirk. He clears his throat as if getting into character. "No. Not a clue."

That pleases you, and you continue walking towards the edge of the bed, your hips swaying with each step. A hair brush taps one of your palms. Your version of a night stick if he had to guess.

"I don't believe you. You've been a very bad boy. Committed a long list of crimes that should have you locked up for the next couple decades," you say.

As he watches your performance, he can't help but find you so cute. The way you speak, your attempt at taking control, is an obvious imitation of his cadence in intimate moments.

"Have I really?" he asks, eyes lazily drifting up to your face.

"Yep. But maybe, just maybe, if you give me some information about the people who put you up to it, we can make a deal."

"I'm not telling you a thing without my lawyer here," he says.

As cocky as he acted, Leon was already nude before you on the mattress. His pale skin almost glows in the dim orangey light of your bedroom. Scars trail across his abdomen that had become a little softer in the last several months. Brown hair dusts the skin of his tummy down to the collection of it curling above the base of his cock. His pretty cock, half-hard between his legs, just waiting for your attention.

You take advantage of his condition by ghosting the bristles of the brush over his v-line. The sensation tickles slightly. His hips twitch, and you see his dick jump at the faint touch to the sensitive area. 

"Why not? You can trust me, Mr. Kennedy. I just want to wrap this up as quickly as possible."

The broad end of your tool coasts over his stomach now, going up to his chest to tease his nipples before you swing it back down to the lower half of him. His heart beat picks up, and his blood starts flowing down south. Out of the corner of your eye, you see his length begin to stiffen.

"I'm not stupid," he says, his tone audibly huskier, "You never talk to the police without a lawyer."

Bringing your knee onto the edge of the foamy mattress, you boost yourself to kneel next to his immobile form.

"Normally I'd agree with you. But I'm different," you say. You come closer and swing your leg over his body so that you're straddling his lap, hovering above his cock. "Even though I believe you're guilty as sin, I want to help you."

His chest vibrates with the urge to groan at the feeling of your clothed heat so close to his aching shaft. "Why's that?" he chokes out instead.

"Because look at you. You're much more useful to me out here than behind bars," you say, reaching down behind and fondling his balls. The groan he held in before oozes from his mouth at the feeling. His cock kicks up now, resting against your center. You adjust to position the appendage between your legs. The cute pink tip stares up at you from where it peeks out of the junction between your thighs.

"That doesn't sound very professional, officer," he says. He has to remember that his hands are fastened above him because your hips call to him. The urge to squeeze them, to knead the flesh and smack your ass, boils in his chest.

You feel your clit starting to throb for his touch as well. The look in his eyes, the way his lips had parted to accommodate his breathing had you growing more and more damp by the moment.

"That, I never claimed to be," you say. 

You slide your hand down over your body, taking time to highlight the presence of his dated uniform. Your fingers slip beneath the waistband of your panties. A shuddery breath leaves your lungs as your fingertip slots between your folds and finds your needy bud.

Your digit glides through the small amount of arousal, beckoning more to coat your cunt. He watches with lust-blown eyes, the surface beginning to glaze with desire. You whimper, the sound so soft and delicate it makes him buck upwards.

"Patience. You don't get rewarded for insulting me," you say and lift yourself away from him.

"Oh c'mon, baby," he grunts, "Gimme a break. I didn't insult you."

"Nope. I won't help you out unless you ask me properly," you say, grinning at the prospect of him groveling.

You play with your clit a little more, chest puffing within the confines of his top. You tilt your head back, and your spine arches with the dull pleasure you're providing yourself.

"Fuck..." he breathes, "Please, officer."

"Please what?"

"Please touch me."

The words come out laced with an intoxicating note of desperation. Your head returns to an upright position, your eyes blazing onto him.

"That's better," you purr.

By this point, you'd worked yourself up enough that the cloth guarding your cunt was soaked, sticky and clinging to your center. You spread your legs and lower to press yourself against him. He moans when your warmth makes contact.

You begin moving back and forth in tiny strokes. He whines and tugs on his restraints. The feeling of the fabric against him burns in the best way. A whine comes from you too as the bump of his tip strikes your bundle of nerves.

"Such a pretty, obedient boy. I bet I can whip you back into a functioning member of society in no time."

Grinding down with more pressure, a symphony of blissed out noises erupt from the two of you. Your palms rest on his belly to support yourself while your hips do all the work. Forward, backward, forward, backward. Like a pendulum you swipe over him in rapid succession.

Humping feels good. It always does. But after a while more, you crave a deeper sense of satisfaction.

You pull your panties to the side and grab his leaky cock. It had been drooling precum onto his pelvis, but now, it was going to be tucked inside you. You rise up and then sink back down, eliciting a mewl from yourself and another deep groan from your lover.

"See what happens when you behave and follow the rules?" you whimper.

"Uh huh. Think I'll be a much better citizen after this," he mutters.

You start to bounce, moving up and down on his shaft. The ridges of his veins rub against your insides. A chill runs up your spine. Bumps prickle up over your skin despite its heated nature. Your skin claps against his while pants puff from nostrils.

He's not keeping it together under you much better. He'd already been pretty close from the stimulation you'd given prior to this. Being engulfed in your tight cunt's wet embrace didn't stave off release at all. His heels dig into the mattress and allow him to reciprocate your movements, thrusting up into you shallowly.

"Fuck!" you yelp when he strikes your spot. You ride faster, getting lost in the pleasure. It's getting too hot now, so you tug the police shirt off your body, your breasts swinging free. The cool air brings some relief, and you toss the garment to the floor without another thought.

"Gonna cum for me, babydoll?" you ask Leon, the playful pet name you call him resurfacing. The commitment to the roleplay had vanished with the disrobing of the costume.

"Mhm, almost there, sugar," he grunts.

You squeeze around him, pulsing as your hips swivel and roll. You feel yourself getting there too. Release explodes in you like a firework, bursting in the pit of your belly and fizzling outwards to everywhere else. Your movements become erratic and rhythmless, but you continue on.

Leon can't take the pressure your orgasm brings. You clenching around him is too much to bear and he blows his load inside you, filling you up with his cum. You work it out of him with a few more fluid movements.

As soon as the wave has passed and receded, you fall forward onto his chest. You don't pull off him or let him leave your insides. All you do is nuzzle his dewy skin and smack a few wet kisses onto the area.

"You did pretty good," he rasps, the look on his face ever-teasing, "If I didn't know any better, I'd think you were a professional."

"Oh shut up. You were into it," you huff and smile up at him.

Now you do climb off his body, reaching the floor and stretching your limbs. The next thing you want to do is go take a shower with your man, but you realize something and look over at him.

"Oh shit. Where did I put the keys to the handcuffs?"

[captain-huggy-bear]

The Little Things Mean A Lot

Pairing: Quinn Hughes x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Reader is a little emotional but this is just fluffy and super soppy.

Summary: Sometimes it's the small things that make you fall in love all over again, like your favourite Singapore chowmein from your favourite Chinese takeaway after a long day of teaching and parent's evening.

Notes: I have 2 parents evenings this half-term and a late open evening thing and I really hate the late evenings, and they're always on a middle of the week day where you have to get up and teach the next day while exhausted 😴

Totally happy to take requests/ideas/prompts at the moment in my ask box :)

Writing Masterlist

Teaching has always been a love-hate profession for you. You enjoy it, of course you do, but it's a lot of work and stress on the best of days and it's only made harder whenever you have a late evening like tonight. 'Parent consultation evening' also known as parent-teacher conference, parent's evening or the night that teacher's dread because they can't leave school until 8pm and just want to go home after teaching all day.

They're not terrible, you have to admit as you finish your last appointment at 8.01 pm. Parents are general complimentary to you and a lot of the issues you have with kids get sorted out simply by talking to their parents and getting the chance to show them their work or lack of. It helps that since Covid your appointments are online, so parents can't go over their time slot. But, you'd been out of the apartment since 6am and taught a full day of lessons, plus teaching your club and then you spent the last 3 hours talking non-stop to parents. So, yes, they weren't terrible, but you were exhausted and really ready to go home and fall into bed. You were ready to see Quinn or at least curl up next to him under the duvet.

Even collecting all your things together and putting on your coat felt like a chore. You tried to do it quickly, your work laptop shoved into your backpack without care, your water bottle, now empty, collected and your lanyard thrown into the bottom of your bag where you'd likely complain that you couldn't find it tomorrow.

The corridor is empty, dark as you make your way to the front doors of the school, passing a few other classrooms still with their lights on as the last remaining teachers finish their evening off. You wave at a few of your colleagues who catch your eye through their doors, but don't stop, determined to get away as quickly as possible. It's always a little eerie leaving school when it's dark out and barely anyone is around, like something out of a horror movie.

You slip your phone out of your pocket dialling Quinn on instinct, it barely rings before he answers.

"Hey, baby." His voice not even a little bit groggy, telling you that he's stayed up for you again and hasn't had a nap. No matter how many times you tell him he can go to sleep if he wants, he always stays up until you're home and have eaten. Even if he's had a long day.

"Hey..." You practically sigh out, tiredness infecting your tone, "I'm just walking to my car now, should be back at the apartment in 20 minutes if the traffic isn't too bad." The car park is practically pitch black and you're thankful for Quinn's voice on the other end of the line and the fact your car isn't too far from the doors.

"Okay, baby, drive safe, yeah? It's been icy, so don't rush." Quinn would know, he'd woken up way too early that morning, before even you, to scrape the ice off your car and make sure you didn't have to do it yourself. It had been a little thing that morning that had made your day easier but also made you love him just a little more. He knew how much you hated being even 10 minutes later to work than you normally were, your routine being put off would mess your day up, so he didn't mind keeping it on track for you. Even if it changed his routine in the process.

Your car is freezing when you get in, rushing to turn it on and get the heating going, practically shaking in your big coat and scarf, "I know, I promise I won't rush. I love you." You put your seatbelt on, turning the headlights on as you think about how glad you're going to be when you open the apartment door to Quinn.

"I love you too. See you soon." His voice is soft and it's hard to do but you say your goodbyes and hang up the call, setting your music to play and making sure you have everything with you before you set off.

The drive is uneventful thankfully, no real traffic and no real issues other than the hungry rumbling of your stomach and the tired blinking of your eyes. You've never been more thankful for the lack of traffic than when you pull into the apartment parking lot and into your designated space.

There's a moment, after you put your car in park, where you simply turn your car off and close your eyes. Needing a moment to decompress and get your bearings even as you can feel yourself starting to nod off. This moment is interrupted by a startling knock on the window of your car door that has you jumping out of your skin, hand clasping your chest. You look, only to see Quinn, bundled up in a hoodie outside your door, hands in his pockets, looking sheepish at having scared you.

You shake your head at him through the window, but let him open your car door for you. You don't protest when he walks around to the passenger side and grabs your work bag for you and you say very little, just melt into his side when he wraps his arm around you to usher you to the door of your apartment building.

You let him practically support your body weight on the way up to the apartment, feeling for the first time that you can relax. It's silly really, how easy it is to shut off around Quinn, barely looking where you're going because you know he'll steer you in the right direction, knowing he won't let you walk face first into a wall.

When Quinn finishes unlocking the front door, the first thing you notice is how warm the apartment is like he's put the heating on especially for you. You were always cold while he always claimed he was fine.

You toe your shoes off at the door, turning to watch as Quinn is much more careful with your work bag than you would be, placing it down by the front door and kicking off his shoes. His hair is at that gorgeous length where when he turns to look at you it practically flips like Prince Charming.

"Go take a shower, baby, I've already made your lunch for tomorrow and I'll sort dinner while you get comfy." It shouldn't make you feel like crying or get emotional but it does because he knows how much you hate making your lunch for work when it's late and he knows how tired you are after a parent's evening. He knows that if it's not made it'll put off your whole morning routine and he knows that that'll ruin your entire Friday. It just reminds you how much he does for you without fussing about it or expecting praise. How well he knows you.

You can't help but wrap your arms around his hoodie swamped frame, pressing your face into his chest for a few moments as you squeeze him as tight as you can, breathing in his cologne, and just enjoying being close to him for the first time in hours.

When you finally look up at him, you rest your chin on his chest, eyes soft as they meet his green ones, "I love you, what would I do without you?"

"You'd be fine, you know it." Yeah, you would. You'd make your own lunch and find your own dinner and scrape ice off your car by yourself, but you'd just be fine...you wouldn't be happy, you wouldn't be thriving. You squeeze him a little tighter around the waist, Quinn's own arms wrapping around you snuggly.

"Then why do it for me?" You ask the question even though you know the answer, because you want to hear him say it, because you love to hear him say it.

"Just because you can do this stuff doesn't mean you have to, I love you...so I want to make your life easier..."

You practically grin up at him, his answer the usual one, one you've heard time and time again but that you love every single time. "I love you too, baby." You reach up to press a kiss to his chin, lips moving across to his cheek, any available skin coming under assault.

He laughs loud, head reeling back to escape you, "Okay, okay! That's enough, you need to go shower! Go!" Quinn pulls out of your arms, struggling to free himself and when he finally does he sends a playful slap to your arse that has you laughing as you leave him, even tired, you can't help but feel slightly rejuvenated in Quinn's presence, like he gives you an energy boost.

You try not to take too long, cutting your shower short out of exhaustion and hunger before throwing on your most comfortable t-shirt and short combo. Your hair is wet, still dripping when you come back out to the kitchen area, the smell of Chinese food hitting you and forcing a grumbling gurgle from your stomach.

"Hungry?" Quinn laughs, looking up from where he's plating up the food. Quinn used to be the sort of guy who ordered one dish from the Chinese takeaway and had the entire thing, but you came from a household of purchasing many items and putting a bit of each on your plate. Mix and match. He'd adapted well to it and become the expert plate maker. Secretly, or not so secretly, he enjoyed making your plate for you, providing you with food even if it was just Chinese takeout.

"Starving! You got my favourite?" You take a seat at the kitchen table, eyes eagerly watching the food in a way that has Quinn chuckling to himself even as he gives you an extra spring roll. One thing he loves about you is how normal you are about food, you don't hide how hungry you are or try to avoid food, even when he can't eat something because of his training and his career, you don't let that effect you or your appetite.

"Mmhmm, and I've given you most of the chowmein, since it's your favourite." He places the plate in front of you, a large pile of Singapore chowmein on your plate, significantly larger than the share on his own plate. Your entire plate dwarfs Quinn's, his desire to feed you seemingly impossible to quash. Maybe you should feel guilty, instead all you feel is such overwhelming love and affection for him to the point of tears welling in your eyes. Maybe its because you're tired, a long day teaching plus parent's evening finally taking its toll or maybe it's just how sweet Quinn is, how determined he is to make your life easier, to look after you, but either way you're especially emotional tonight over a Chinese takeaway.

"Thank you..."

Quinn stops before he even sits in his seat, leaving his plate across from yours at the emotion in your voice. Instead, he comes to stand next to your sitting form, letting you wrap your arms around his hips, your cheek pressing into his side while he runs a hand through your wet hair.

Quinn would say that you were naturally more emotional than him, not a cry baby per say, but with him? In the place you felt most comfortable? Then you were prone to tears, especially when he did something nice for you. It was an interesting thing about you, that you could deal with teenagers yelling at you, throwing things, swearing and being all around rude or parents harassing you, and not shed a single tear. But, the moment Quinn did something thoughtful you got choked up...although not usually over Chinese food. This was a new one.

"You're emotional tonight...you okay, baby?" You sniffle a little at his question, unsure why you're so emotional today of all days, other than possibly how tired you. Maybe your period is on the way? Or maybe it was just that time of year? Still, you can't help but lean into him deeper, clingy in your need to be close to him even as you try to sneak a bite of a spring roll, stomach still growling.

"I'm just tired and...and I love you so much....you're so good to me and you gave me almost all the chowmein." Quinn stifles a laugh at the way you say, all while sneaking food into your mouth, you're gripping him so tight he considers eating stood upright so you don't have to let go. He might not ever admit it, but he loves how clingy you are, how you always reach for him. He loves that he never doubts how much you want him.

"Oh, baby...you really need food and bed, huh?" His fingers run through your hair one last time, landing on the nape of your neck and resting there.

You nod your head and reluctantly let go of him so you can focus on your food. He watches you while the two of you eat, the slow blinks, the way your head lolls every now as if you might fall asleep at the table. He's happy though, happy you're eating, happy you're enjoying it, the way you gobble up your favourite bits and eat more than is probably comfortable. He's happy he can provide for you, look after you, especially given how much you give to your job.

Once you've both finish eating, you go to reach for his plate as if you're going to clean it for him, he pulls it away from you without hesitation, "Baby, I'll do it in the morning...you're too tired, let's just go to bed, yeah?"

You don't even put up a fight when he takes your plate from you or when he grips you by the shoulders, steering you towards the bedroom. There are no protests when he pulls back the covers and helps you ease into bed, the only protest you let out is when he tries to leave to lock up and turn all the lights off. But, you're placated by his soft voice telling you he'd be right back.

You're asleep by the time he's turned all the lights off and put the plates by the sink. Quinn can't really help it, the way he stops just off to the side to stare at you. The soft rise and fall of your breathing, the way you nuzzle deeper into your favourite pillow.

When he was younger Quinn was sure that he didn't want to be responsible for another person that wasn't his brothers, that he didn't want to look after someone else. The idea of loving someone seriously, of caring for them was too much. He'd been dead wrong, you weren't his responsibility and sure, you could look after yourself, but God, did he love doing it for you. He loved seeing you happy, content, well looked after. He loved knowing that even when you were exhausted from work, even when life threw you a curveball, he was there to make it easier, lighten the load. You made him feel needed, useful, in a way that was ten times more rewarding than being captain of the Canucks.

He loved that for all the things he did for you, you did just as much for him. The way you always put a towel in the dryer to warm when you knew he was coming back from practice. The fact you made sure to have his favourite cheat meal ready when he'd had a rough game or roadie. You might think he did more for you, than you did for him, but in reality it was pretty even. You both simply took care of one another.

He's as quiet as possible as he changes into just a pair of grey sweatpants, careful as he slides into bed besides you and gentle as he pulls you back into his arms. You stir slightly, but only enough to turn around and burying your head into his chest, leg wrapping over his hip. Still fast asleep even as you seek out his warmth.

Maybe when he was 19 he didn't want something like this, but now? Now he can't imagine anything better than spending his life doing the little things to make your life easier, to make sure you feel loved and respected even when teaching throws you a long day or a shitty parent or a ridiculous incident. He could do this for the next 70 years and never grow tired of it.

[jarofstyles]

Dreaming Of You

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WC- 3.6k

Warnings- heavy petting, slight anxiety, mention of alcohol/ they have been drinking, etc

This was the atmosphere he had always wanted to be with her in. Something about live music was electric, but being with her only amplified it. Like she was the live wire powering the entire venue. They stood shoulder to shoulder in the crowded floor, surrounded by the pulsing music and people feeling the music just as deeply as he was sure she was. Harry's arm was thrown casually over Y/N's shoulders, his head bent to speak in her ear as they sang along to their favorite song by them- the one that had gotten her hooked. To the outside world, they looked like just friends - but Harry knew the truth. He had a crush on Y/N that had been growing for months, festering and bubbling up in his stomach until it was impossible to deny any longer- and being this close to her was both complete torture and utter bliss.

His hand rested on her shoulder, his thumb gently brushing her collarbone in a rhythm that mirrored the beat of the music. He could feel the vibrations of the bass through his chest, resonating with the pounding of his own heart. Y/N leaned into him slightly, her ear just inches from his mouth as he lightly sang along with the lyrics. Being so close made him realize a lot of things, but particularly that he could smell her perfume, something light and floral, and he had to fight the urge to bury his face in her neck.

They were supposed to be just friends. Friends that got a lot closer than the others in the group did. Friends that slept in the same bed, who shared drinks, who sat in each other’s laps when the car was overfilled. It didn’t make it much easier for him to keep his head grounded, because Y/N was his complete and utter weakness.

So, yeah, they were supposed to be just friends. But how could he stay just friends when she fell nearly asleep tucked under his chin when she leaned into him when the night was going a bit too long? How could he remain unaffected when she stole the fries off his plate when she had her own, her eyes crinkling with laughter because she knew he was going to give her the same look he always did? Was he supposed to just ignore how full his heart felt when she curled up next to him during movie nights, her head tucking perfectly in the crook of his neck? How could he resist her when she looked at him with those soft, warm eyes, her smile just for him?

He’d gotten the tickets solely to put a smile on her face. Sure, he liked the music but Y/N was a much bigger fan than he was. The reward for the pricy tickets- and refusal to let her pay him back- had been how excited she was when he’d shown up, nearly bouncing in the seat on the way here- and now she was leaning into him, her hand on his wrist as his arm lazily slung over her.

Watchful eyes had caught the way her eyes lit up as the band took the stage, the way she sang along to every word, her voice audible just to him over the music. He felt her hand tighten on his wrist, felt the warmth of her touch seep into his bones. He felt like he was drowning in her, in the way she fit against him, in the way she smiled at him like he was the only person in the room.

As the concert reached its peak, Harry felt Y/N grow a little tipsy from the drinks they'd been sharing. They’d stayed closer to the back considering she wasn’t a fan of being immersed in crowds and consequently, closer to the bar. She leaned heavier against him, her head lolling onto his shoulder. His heart jumped as felt her fingers entwine with his, her hand bringing their joined hands to her chest, able feel her heart racing, matching the rhythm of the music.

“Y’alright?” He murmured, the blood buzzing in his veins from the close proximity and his own discarded drink. “Happy?” All that mattered was she was enjoying herself.

Y/N lifted her head, her eyes glazed but shining with pure joy as she met his gaze. "I'm perfect." She giggled slightly, her words warm against his cheek. "It's even better with you here." She pressed a quick, sloppy kiss to his jaw before laying her head back down, her fingers tightening around his hand.

Harry swallowed hard, his throat suddenly dry. Turning his head slightly, his nose brushing against her hair. He could feel his heart hammering in his chest, echoing the beat of the drums on stage. God, he wanted to kiss her. Right here, right now, in this crowded room full of strangers. He wanted to taste the alcohol on her lips, feel her melt against him. It was the only thing he wanted, really, but he couldn’t have it.  

Instead, he brought their joined hands to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to her knuckles as a consolation prize. He felt her turn in his arms to nuzzle against him, her voice muffled against his shirt. "Harry? You're so nice to me..." She trailed off, her words slurring a little. "No one's ever been this nice to me before. You’re so amazin’ and I’m so happy you’re here with me. I wouldn’t want anyone else with me for this." Harry's heart ached, both from her words and from the closeness that was slowly killing him.

Y/N lifted her head, her eyes heavy-lidded and dark with something that made Harry's breath catch. She licked her lips, her gaze dropping to his mouth before meeting his eyes again. "But um, can I ask you something?" Her voice was a husky whisper. Like she had no idea he would bend over backwards to give her the answer. "Can we... can we make out? Like, right here?" She giggled softly, swaying slightly. "I've always wanted to make out at a concert, and I want it to be with you..."

Harry's heart nearly stopped at her words, his body tensing with both desire and hesitation. He wanted nothing more than to pull her close and capture her lips with his own. But the rational part of his mind held him back. What if it ruined everything? What if she regretted it in the morning? He cared about her too much to risk their friendship, no matter how much he wanted it. "Y/N...I want to." he admitted, his voice rough with barely restrained desire. "God, I want to so badly. But..." He took a deep breath, trying to collect himself. Was it normal to feel dizzy after being asked something like that? "We're both a bit tipsy, and I don't want t’do anything we might regret later. You mean too much to me, sweets. Our friendship... s’important." He cupped her face gently, his thumb brushing over her cheek.

Y/N whined softly, her eyes fluttering closed as she leaned into his touch. "But it won't, Harry, I promise..." She nuzzled into his palm, her voice dropping to an almost pleading tone. "Please? Just a little bit? And if it's weird afterwards... we can just... forget it happened or something, okay?" She peeped up at him, her bottom lip stuck out in a pout. "Just a little."

Harry's resolve wavered as he gazed down at her, seeing the hopeful glimmer in her eyes. Her lips were parted invitingly, her cheeks flushed from the alcohol and the heat of the crowded venue. He could feel the warmth radiating off her body, pressing against his own. Slowly, almost hesitantly, he leaned in, his nose brushing against hers. "Okay. Can’t say no to you.” That was an understatement.  “Just for a little bit." He managed to murmur, his voice breathy with barely restrained desire.

Harry's hand slid from her face to the back of her neck, tangling in her hair as he tilted her head slightly. Their breaths mingled, hot and fast, as the distance between their mouths slowly closed. He could feel her breath hitch, see her eyes flutter closed. And then, like he had dreamt of for ages, their lips met. soft and gentle at first, barely a brush. Harry deepened the kiss slowly, his lips parting as his tongue tentatively touched hers.

Harry kissed her thoroughly, savoring every second of the intimate contact. As much as he wanted to pace himself, he was having trouble doing so. His lips moved against hers with a gentle pressure, coaxing rather than demanding. He kept his eyes closed, focusing solely on the feel and taste of her. His tongue teased along the seam of her lips, seeking permission to deepen the kiss further. One hand remained tangled in her hair while the other settled on her hip, his fingers splaying across the curve of her waist while he questioned how he had been lucky enough to experience this. Lucky enough for her to be the one to initiate.

Y/N melted into the kiss, her arms wrapping around his neck as she leaned into him. She opened her mouth eagerly, her tongue meeting his in a sweet, slow dance. She hummed softly against his lips, her eyes closed as she lost herself in the moment. Her body seemed to mold itself to his, pressing close as she sank into the warmth of his embrace. She was completely at ease, completely in the moment, with Harry's lips on hers..

She pulled back from the kiss just long enough to sing along to the next lyric, her voice breathy and warm against his skin. It was casual, intimate in the best way as he smiled at her personality shining through, even in a situation like this. As soon as the song allowed, she turned back to Harry, capturing his lips in another sweet, sloppy kiss. She hummed along to the music, her body swaying gently to the beat as she held onto Harry. The kiss was interrupted only by occasional breaths and the occasional sung lyric, their lips never truly parting.

Getting a bit more into it, she was a little restless. It was obvious she wanted a little more, their promise of ‘just a little bit’ gone with the wind when Y/N reached out to grab his hand from her hip, pulling it down to rest on her ass. She pressed his palm against her, encouraging him to squeeze. 

Harry obeyed happily, his fingers digging into the soft flesh as he held her close. The feel of her in his hand, combined with the kiss made his head spin. He broke the kiss to bury his face in her neck, breathing in her scent as he continued to keep her close.

She had no idea what this was doing to him. Handing his personal dreams in the literal palm of his hand, hand delivered.

Nuzzling into her neck, his lips traced along her jawline and down to her collarbone, greedily taking her in while he had the chance. His hand continued to explore her, squeezing and caressing as they stood there, lost in each other. He could feel her chest rise and fall with each breath, feel her heartbeat against his own… it felt too good to be true.  "Y/N, sweets... What are we doin’?" He murmured, his voice hoarse as gained a little confidence, his free hand slid down to join the other, both hands squeezing her ass and making her let out a noise against his mouth that went straight to his cock.

Harry's lips traveled over Y/N's slightly damp neck, depositing soft, open-mouthed kisses along her skin. He lingered over her pulse point, his tongue flicking out to taste the saltiness of her sweat. Her soft giggles filled his ear as he nipped playfully at her earlobe. "I dunno, but it feels good... Don’t stop." She whimpered, her head falling to the side to give him better access.

His lips continued their explorations, tracing the curve of her collarbone and dipping into the hollow at the base of her throat. He could feel her shiver against him, her breath coming in increasingly quick pants as his hands roamed over her. He could feel the heat of her through their clothes, could feel her heartbeat quickening. Nuzzling his nose along her shoulder, he breathed in her scent as he kissed and nipped at her skin.

Harry let out a sharp breath as her fingers tangled in his hair, gently tugging as she clutched at him. The little sound she made, a cross between a gasp and a whimper, spurred him on further. Kissing his way back up to her ear, his teeth gently tugged at her earlobe as his hands smoothing over her back pockets of the stupidly little shorts she had managed to pull on, driving him mad this entire time. "You like that?" He whispered, his voice hoarse against her skin. “S’not too much?”

Y/N shook her head, her fingers carding through the slightly damp hair at the nape of his neck as she leaned into his touch. "N-no... it's not too much. Not at all." she breathed, her words weak over the music.

 He pressed a soft kiss to her ear, his teeth grazing the shell as he asked again, "You sure? 'Cause I can stop if y’want me to..." Harry didn't want to stop, didn't want to pull back, but he would if she asked him to. Of course he wanted her, wanted her all over him and vice versa, but he wanted her to feel comfortable and safe more than he wanted to indulge in his own selfish desires. He placed an open mouthed kiss into her neck as he waited for her response. His own heart was pounding, his breath hot against her skin. He was indulging in her, but he'd rein it in if she needed him to.

Y/N tilted her head, giving him better access as a shiver ran through her body at the feeling of his lips and teeth on her sensitive skin. Her fingers tightened in his hair, holding him close as she arched slightly into his touch. "I'm sure..." She breathed, her voice shaky but certain. ”It feels amazing. Keep going.”

At her assurance, Harry's hand at the small of her back slipped under the hem of her tank top, his fingers splaying across her warm, bare skin. Her breath hitched as he trailed his fingers up her back, his touch light and tender. He moved over her slowly, his palm flattening against her as he caressed her soft, smooth skin. This was something he’d dreamt of many times before, pined over actually, and he was actually managing to do it. 

Harry's calloused fingertips dragged slowly up her spine, the sensation making her shiver slightly in his caress. It felt so fucking good to touch her like this, his broad palm fitting perfectly against her back. Like it was meant to be there. He mapped out the dip of her waist, the curve of her ribs, the smooth expanse of her back as he silently marveled over her. It made him more confident knowing he wasn’t the only one affected, feeling the slight tremble in her muscles, and hearing the quickened pace of her breathing.

Y/N pressed herself against his chest, seeking the warmth and comfort of him that he’d always brought, but this was much more loaded. Her breaths came in soft, shaky puffs as she clung to him, feeling safe in his arms- with the lingering undertone of arousal. It was hard not to when being so close felt this good.

Plush lips found Harry's neck, her mouth open and hot as she peppered soft kisses along his jawline and down to his collarbone. Her hands roamed over his back, tracing the lines of his muscles through his shirt. Harry's breath hitched as she nipped at his pulse point in return, his grip on her tightening reflexively. He let his head fall back, giving her better access as he murmured,

"That feels... really good..." His voice was hoarse, barely audible over the music. To be fair, it was a miracle he could even string together words at this moment at all. He could feel her smile against his skin, her arms tightening around his neck and lifting up on her toes as she continued to explore.  /N's lips felt like velvet on Harry's neck, damp and warm as they trailed gentle kisses along his skin. Her breath was hot, her teeth light as they nipped at his flesh, sending shivers down his spine. It nearly sent him to his knees when he felt her tongue darting out to taste his skin every now and then, leaving it damp and tingling in its wake. The question was if she knew just how heavily this affected him.

Her kisses were addictive, their pressure light as they explored the sensitive skin of his neck. She kissed him slowly, her tongue leisurely tracing patterns on his flesh. Her teeth grazed further down his skin as she sucked on a spot she found satisfactory, leaving a gentle love bite that made him shudder. He could feel the gentle suction of her mouth, the wet heat of her breath as he got to experience something he had only hoped to have one day. It almost didn’t feel real, his head fuzzy as he gave into the feeling.

Harry grunted, his head falling forward as his hand tangled in her hair, gently tugging her head back. It was too much for him. It could be felt in his stomach, how much he wanted to go further but he held on despite his control beginning to fray. "Come 'ere..." He muttered gruffly, eyes fluttering shut as he captured her mouth with his own. He kissed her hard, his tongue delving into her mouth to dance with hers.

His grip on her hair tightened, angling her how he wanted. There had been an attempt to hold back but it was failing, tattering at the edges as he fell further into the warmth that she gave him. His breath was coming in pants, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he kissed her with increasing fervor. Biting down on her swollen bottom lip, he sucked it into his mouth and soothed with his tongue. 

The countless times he’d imagined this still wouldn’t have accounted for how insane he felt in this moment. How unhinged his brain was trying to get him to be. If she let him, he’d worship her in the middle of the concert, other people be damned. It was almost overwhelming, even just getting back to the kisses that had started it all as he tried to right himself. Harry often got tired of things, but he could do this forever. Feel her forever. 

Unfortunately for him- The kiss was interrupted abruptly as someone bumped into them, causing Harry to stumble back a step, tightening his grip on her to make sure she was steady. He broke the kiss, turning to glare at the person who had disrupted them. Y/N, still clinging to him, looked up at him with wide eyes, her face flushed and lips swollen. The son of a bitch had interrupted and he wasn’t happy about it- but he did get to experience how beautiful she looked in this moment. Harry's arm automatically wrapped around her waist, holding her close as he tried to gauge if she was okay. "Watch where you're fuckin’ going, nearly took her out." He growled, running his hand over her back. “Y’alright, sweets?” 

She nodded, looking a tad bit dazed as her hand reached up to touch her pouty lips. Harry's gaze followed the movement, his heart flipping in his chest at the sight of his kiss-swollen lips. He had been the one to do that. They’d been kissing. Y/N and Harry. She had initiated it on her own accord, put her hand on his ass. How was this day real? He pulled her closer, his arm wound firmly around her waist as he turned back to the person who had interrupted them. "You can fuck off now.”

Y/N giggled, her face splitting into a wide grin as she watched Harry shoo away the intruder like it genuinely pleased her. He turned back to her after making sure they’d truly fucked off, his brows furrowed until she grinned at him. "You're so grumpy. It’s cute, as long as it’s not directed at me. " She teased, her fingers tracing along his jaw. Harry's expression softened, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he smirked at her.

 "Never t’you, sweets. Only with people who interrupt me when I'm busy. We were in the middle of somethin’." His words seemed to fluster her, her cheeks turning an even deeper shade of red as she looked up at him with wide eyes. The effects of the drinks had completely worn off, the sober realization washing over her- and she didn’t make a move to step back. "Y-yeah... we were..." She swallowed the lump in her throat, her fingers stilling on his jaw. Harry's smirk grew as he leaned in close, his breath fanning across her lips. 

"Wanna go back to it?"

[wandamaximoffsbadgirl]

My Missing Piece

616!Wanda x 199999!Fem!Reader

Summary: You've lost your wife Wanda. Leaving you alone with your twin boys to try and pick up the pieces. What happens when the Scarlet Witch comes looking for her boys?

Word Count: 10.4K

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, R calls W Mommy, W uses pet names, enchanted strap use, Dom!Wanda, sub!reader, overstimulation, magic restraints, depressive thoughts/episodes.

A/N: Made this forever ago and forgot about it until like two days ago lol. I really liked the idea of this so I hope you guys enjoy~ Also I decided that world 199999 (which was the original MCU world number before MoM turned it to 616) is just a parallel world where no one died :)

Every night after tucking my boys, Billy and Tommy in to bed, I have a bit of me time. Sometimes I watch TV, sometimes I'll scroll through social media on my phone, sometimes I'll write because I was told that was supposed to help with grief, it hasn't so far, what helps the most is when I talk to her before bed, "I miss you Wands...our boys miss you too...of course they love their Mama, but you're their Mommy. You carried them for nine months, you were in labor for just over a day." Tommy was born first 12 minutes ahead of his brother Billy. "You gave so much for our boys and our life here and I wish you had never said yes to that mission after all these years..." I break down, quiet sobs wrack me as I curl up on her side of the bed. It still smells like her.

I let sleep take me as I have the same dream I do every night. Wanda, but not Wanda...some twisted version of her with black fingers, and she just seems off, but she's searching, as if she can see me? She's looking for our boys. Every morning just as she finds me, us, I wake up. Dried tears on my cheeks and my eyes red. The bags under my eyes have never been darker, but I cover them up as I get out of bed to start yet another day without my wife.

The alarm blares through the quiet of the room, jolting me awake from my restless slumber. With a heavy sigh, I reach over to silence it, rubbing the sleep from my eyes. Another day begins, much like every other since she left us.

I stumble out of bed, the weight of grief still heavy on my shoulders as I move through the motions of the morning routine. It's a struggle to keep it together, but I have to be strong for Billy and Tommy. They need me, even though every fiber of my being aches for her presence.

As I make my way downstairs, the memories flood back, hitting me like a tidal wave. Wanda was always the light in our lives, her laughter echoing through the halls, her warmth enveloping us like a comforting embrace. But now, there's only emptiness.

I try to push the thoughts aside as I prepare breakfast for the boys, forcing a smile as they bound into the kitchen, their youthful energy a stark contrast to my own weariness. They chatter excitedly about school and friends, oblivious to the pain that lingers beneath the surface.

After they've eaten and headed off to catch the bus, I sink into the solitude of the empty house once more. It's in these quiet moments that the ache is most palpable, the absence of her presence a constant reminder of all that we've lost.

I find myself drawn to her belongings, unable to resist the pull of her memory. Running my fingers over the familiar objects, I'm transported back to happier times, when our love felt invincible, untouchable by the darkness that now threatens to consume me.

But amidst the despair, there's a flicker of something else. A determination, a resolve to keep going, if not for myself then for her. She wouldn't want me to wallow in sorrow, to let the grief consume me. She'd want me to live, to cherish the memories we shared and find solace in the love that still remains.

With a deep breath, I push myself to my feet, wiping away the tears that threaten to fall. Today may be another struggle, another battle against the pain, but I refuse to let it defeat me. For Wanda, for our boys, I'll find the strength to carry on, one day at a time.

The day went by quickly and soon enough the boys were home filling up our home with noise once more,

"Boys homework first or no ice cream!" I call from the kitchen when I hear them start to fight over player one controller.

"Awww but Mama!" They whined.

"So you boys don't want ice cream tomorrow night either I see." I hear them grumble and then the TV go off, the sound of the dining room chairs scraping as I look over my shoulder to see they're working. "There are my good boys." I turn back smiling as I carry on with prepping dinner. Suddenly something feels off. A pit in my stomach starts forming and I feel eyes on me, not the boys though these feel predatory.

I look up and through the window I don't see my own reflection, I see Wanda, the same one I see in my dreams.

My heart leaps into my throat as I freeze, the knife in my hand forgotten as I stare wide-eyed at the impossible sight before me. It's her, but it's not. The twisted version from my nightmares, black fingers reaching out like tendrils of darkness, eyes filled with a hunger I can't comprehend.

I feel a chill run down my spine as her gaze locks onto mine, a shiver of fear coursing through my veins. Instinctively, I reach for the pendant hanging around my neck, fingers brushing against the smooth surface of the purple power stone embedded within. It's a comforting weight, a reminder of the power that pulses through me, but even it feels insignificant in the face of this apparition.

"What do you want?" I manage to choke out, my voice barely above a whisper. But she doesn't answer, only continues to stare, her presence suffocating in its intensity.

Desperation claws at the edges of my mind as I struggle to make sense of the situation. Is this some kind of illusion, a trick of the mind brought on by grief and exhaustion? Or is she truly here, some twisted echo of the woman I loved?

Before I can gather my thoughts, a sudden crash from the dining room snaps me back to reality. The boys, my precious boys, oblivious to the danger that lurks just beyond our walls. With a surge of adrenaline, I lunge forward, grabbing the nearest weapon within reach.

But as I turn back to face the window, she's gone, vanished into thin air like a wisp of smoke. The only evidence of her presence is the lingering sense of unease that hangs heavy in the air.

I rush to the dining room, relief flooding through me as I find the boys unharmed, their laughter filling the room once more. But even as I hold them close, a sense of dread lingers, a silent reminder that darkness still lurks just beyond the edges of our reality.

"Mama is everything okay?" Billy asks as I hold them, kissing the top of their heads.

"I just thought one of you got hurt. I'm happy you boys aren't." I lie to them as to not worry them, but Billy looks at me trying to search my thoughts. "Hey no mind reading little man." I ruffle his hair. "Everything is fine. If you boys are finished you can play one game, dinner will be ready in 15 minutes." The minutes tick by slowly as I finish preparing dinner, the aroma of comfort food filling the air. I glance at the clock, realizing that my boys are engrossed in their game, blissfully unaware of the turmoil swirling within me.

With a heavy sigh, I take a moment to compose myself before calling them to the table. As we gather for the meal, laughter and chatter resuming, I try to push the unsettling encounter out of my mind. But deep down, I know it's not over.

As we eat, the boys share stories from their day, their infectious joy momentarily easing the ache in my heart. I force a smile, savoring these small moments of normalcy in our fractured world.

After dinner, as the boys retreat to their rooms for the night, I find myself once again standing by the window, staring into the darkness beyond. The pit in my stomach returns, the unease settling in as I feel a presence lingering just out of sight.

The room is silent, save for the hum of the refrigerator and the distant sounds of the night. I close my eyes, summoning the courage to speak the words that linger on the tip of my tongue.

"Wanda, if you're out there, if you can hear me, please... don't hide. I don't know what's happening, but I can't face it alone. I need you, now more than ever." My voice trembles with a mix of desperation and longing.

The air remains still, the response elusive. I wait in silence, hoping for some sign, some reassurance that I'm not losing my mind. But the universe remains silent, withholding its secrets.

"Gods I feel like I'm going crazy Wands...how am I supposed to do this without you?" I feel the hot tears in my eyes, streak down my cheeks then suddenly a loud bang from the living room, the sound of a portal. "Stephan? Is that you?" It wasn't uncommon for Stephan Strange to pop in and check on me and the boys. Stephan had lost his love many years ago. Before I reach the living room, I hear the familiar sound of heels clicking on my hard wood flooring. Suddenly I'm standing face to face with the Wanda I've seen in my dreams...."W-Wands?" I questioned,

"A version. I've lost something precious to me and I've come to get it back." I look her over. It's Wanda, but not mine. As I get closer, Her hair is a different shade, her eyes are a little less of an emerald green and more of a sea green, this Wanda has a scar on her forehead, just above her left eyebrow.

"Oh...what has your universe done to you Detka?" I ask softly reaching out and she grabs my wrist with a force.

"It took everything from me." She seethed. "I want my boys back. I'm taking them." She tosses me aside like I'm nothing. Luckily with the power stone embedded in my chest. I push back, barreling back into her. Tackling her to the ground until I'm on top of her and it's then that she notices my stone, "You have the power stone...how? That's impossible. I've seen it kill people that touch it.

"I'm tough that's why my Wanda loved me." I had her pinned and used my own magic to subdue her. "I've been called the Violet Witch here for years. It became my code name."

"That can't be..." I give her a questioning look. "I'm the Scarlet Witch." She tells me, the scarlet witch? Wanda never said anything...? I stumble back off of her, reeling, "The Scarlet Witch." I let out a dry chuckle, "It makes sense, but I can't let you take my boys. If I loose them then That means I've lost my Wanda and them. I might as well die." I tell her,

"Wait so your Wanda is gone?" She asks. I nod,

"She was needed for a mission. I begged her not to go, we had retired from being Avengers 10 years ago when we found out she was pregnant. She told me everything would be fine. She promised me...and then suddenly I have Strange and Parker on my doorstep with Bucky and Sam behind them carry the casket." I feel my eyes blur as I walk over to the scarlet witch, "If you are another her then," I take her hands putting them up to my temples and ease my forehead onto her, letting my memories over the past ten years flood through her mind.

As our minds intertwine, I feel a rush of memories flooding into her consciousness. The love, the loss, the moments of joy and heartache that have shaped my existence since Wanda's departure. It's a whirlwind of emotions, a bittersweet symphony of love and grief that binds us together in ways I never thought possible.

For a moment, there's a flicker of recognition in her eyes, a glimmer of understanding amidst the chaos of her own turmoil. She sees the depth of my pain, the desperation to hold onto the fragments of a life that's slipping through my fingers.

But as quickly as it came, the moment passes, and she pulls away, her expression hardening once more. "I'm sorry for your loss," she says, her voice tinged with a hint of sympathy. "But my pain is just as real. I've lost everything too, and I'll do whatever it takes to reclaim what's mine."

I feel a pang of empathy for her, a shared sense of anguish that transcends the boundaries of our separate worlds. But beneath it all, there's a primal instinct, a fierce determination to protect my boys at all costs.

"I understand your pain," I reply, my voice steady despite the turmoil raging within. "But my boys are not yours to take. They belong here, with me, with their family."

She narrows her eyes, her resolve unwavering. "Then we're at an impasse," she says, her tone final. "I won't leave without them."

I take a step forward, meeting her gaze with steely determination. "Then I guess we'll just have to see who's stronger," I say, my voice echoing with a newfound resolve.

With that, the battle lines are drawn, two versions of Wanda Maximoff facing off against each other in a clash of wills and power. But amidst the chaos and uncertainty, one thing remains clear: no matter the outcome, I'll do whatever it takes to protect my boys and honor the memory of the woman I loved.

Her eyes meet mine, a mixture of pain and longing mirrored in their depths. The tear I wiped away lingers on her cheek, a testament to the shared sorrow we both carry. The silence stretches between us, heavy with unspoken emotions, and for a moment, time seems to hang suspended.

"I... I don't know if I can stay," she whispers, her voice choked with emotion. "But the offer, it means more than you can imagine. In my world, everything has crumbled, and I'm left with nothing but ashes and echoes of what once was."

I can feel the weight of her words, the burden of her grief, and I tighten my grip on her cheek, desperate to convey the sincerity of my plea. "Wanda, you don't have to face this alone. You're not just a version of her; you're your own person, with your own pain. But here, in this universe, you have a chance to rebuild, to find a new kind of family."

She opens her eyes, the sea-green gaze locking onto mine. There's a vulnerability in her expression, a crack in the stoic facade she wears. "I'm so tired," she admits, a raw honesty in her voice. "Tired of loss, tired of fighting. Maybe... maybe it's time for a different path."

A tentative smile plays on her lips, and my heart skips a beat. I wipe away another tear, this time a tear of relief. "You don't have to decide now," I say softly. "Take the time you need. But know that here, you have people who care, people who understand loss and are willing to help you carry the burden."

The room seems to brighten, as if the weight of the universe has lifted, if only for a moment. And in that moment, I see a glimmer of hope, a possibility for healing and connection that transcends the boundaries of our fractured worlds.

"I need to know one thing." She speaks, "Is Vision alive?" my brows furrow together.

"Vision? Who is that?" I ask genuinely confused.

"Wait...how did we meet here?" She asks.

"Oh well we met in Sokovia. We were protesting Stark together at a rally. Your brother flirted with me first and I never let him live that down especially when I married you and he was my best man." I smile at the memory. "Anyways, we were approached by Hydra and experimented on. They had the mind stone and the power stone. You and Pietro were exposed to the mind stone and I was too, but nothing happened unlike you two so they put me in a room with the power stone. It decided my chest was it's forever home. I ended up breaking us out from the Hydra base with the help of the Avengers who had caught word of the base. The three of us joined the Avengers and the rest is history." I tell her.

"So no Ultron? Sokovia didn't fly in the air? What about the Sokovia accords?" She throws question after question.

"No idea what you're talking about love. We carried on doing small missions, taking down hydra and radicals, but the three of us spent a long time training before they let us out doing field work." I tell her.

"Three? Is...is Pietro..?" Her voice breaks.

"Alive? Yeah of course." She falls to her knees and starts sobbing.

"Mommy?" Billy is at the middle of the stairs and the look in Wanda's eyes.

"Yeah baby it's Mommy." Wanda opened her arms and the little speedster found his way into her arms." Her eyes spilling over tears.

"Mama said you weren't coming back." Billy whispered.

"Mama didn't think I was, but Mommy always finds a way back to her boys." Wanda pulls back and looks up at me. "I'm staying...how could I say no when this is just about the most perfect version I could ask for?" I smile and start crying again as Tommy joins us before I can even blink. "Our little quick silver." Wanda smiles hugging the boys, her boys.

Tears of relief blur my vision as I watch Wanda embrace our boys, her boys, with a tenderness that speaks volumes. Billy and Tommy cling to her, their small arms wrapping around her tightly as if afraid she'll disappear again if they let go. And in that moment, I realize that this is where she belongs, with us, her family.

I join them on the floor, wrapping my arms around them all, unable to contain the overwhelming flood of emotions that threatens to consume me. "Welcome home, Wanda," I whisper, my voice choked with tears.

She looks up at me, her eyes shining with gratitude and love. "Thank you," she says softly, her voice trembling with emotion. "For everything."

Together, we sit in the warmth of our embrace, a makeshift family forged from the ashes of our shared past. And as the night stretches on, I can't help but feel a glimmer of hope amidst the darkness, a belief that no matter what trials may come, as long as we have each other, we can weather any storm.

========================

The days blurred together in a haze of longing and uncertainty, each moment tinged with the ache of what could have been. Wanda's presence in our home was both a blessing and a curse, a constant reminder of the love I had lost and the impossibility of reclaiming what was once mine.

I watched her interact with the boys, her smile forced but genuine, her laughter a melody that echoed through the halls. And yet, beneath the surface, I could sense the weight of her own grief, the burden of a past that refused to let her go.

I tried to be strong, to be there for her and the boys, but every smile felt like a lie, every laugh a hollow echo of the joy we once shared. And in the darkness of the night, when sleep eluded me and the silence pressed in like a vice, I found myself haunted by memories of another Wanda, a version of her that existed only in my dreams.

She was so close, yet so far away, a phantom presence that taunted me with what could have been. I longed to reach out to her, to hold her close and whisper words of love and comfort. But she was gone, lost to me in a reality that no longer existed.

And so I forced myself out of bed each morning, steeling myself against the pain that threatened to consume me. I buried myself in the routines of daily life, seeking solace in the mundane tasks that kept me tethered to reality.

But no matter how hard I tried to push her memory away, she lingered in the shadows of my mind, a ghostly specter that refused to be forgotten. And as the days turned into weeks, I began to wonder if I would ever find peace, if I would ever be able to let go of the love that still bound me to her, even across the vast expanse of the multiverse.

My Wanda and I had always had a policy of no mind reading since we could both do it, but this Wanda pokes at my thoughts constantly. Reminds me to smile through telepathy. One morning after a really good dream with another Wanda I can't get myself out of bed. Everything is too much. I know I had told her I'd be fine, but I'm not.

"Come on Y/N. Time to get up." I turn away from her, curling up into a ball further. "Y/N? What's wrong?" She asks.

"Nothing just tired. Just tell the boys I don't feel good. I need a Mama's day. So they can have a Mommy day. Take them out, get them ice cream. Do whatever you want." I grumble.

"Okay..." I close my eyes, letting myself drift back off just needed to see her again.

I don't know how much time has past when I'm being woken up, "Detka...come on wake up." My eyes blink into focus as I look at Wanda sitting above me and smile, forgetting my reality for a moment before my smile drops.

"What?" I ask.

"I dropped the boys off with their uncle for the weekend." I sit up straight,

"You did what!?" I screech.

"I left them with Pietro for the weekend. He was more than happy to have a boys weekend. Something about taking them to the lake?" Wanda mentions.

"He takes them every summer, usually it's a family thing and we all go." I tell Wanda.

"Well I figured you needed a Mommy and me weekend. I want to take you out. I want to get to know you. I already know my boys, but you. You're different, new, you aren't like Vision. You're human." She cups my cheek, smiling and I know it's a genuine smile. "I'm sure you've been feeling neglected and I wanted to try and do this sooner, but the boys were too excited to have me back." She says as I lean into her touch, Gods how I missed her touch. Though her fingers were no longer black her nails seemed to permanently stay black which made me laugh as I compared it to her emo phase which apparently this Wanda had one too.

"Thank you," I whisper, my voice catching in my throat. "For understanding."

She smiles, a warmth in her eyes that belies the weight of her own pain. "We're in this together. You don't have to carry the burden alone."

With her words echoing in my mind, I find the strength to push myself out of bed, to face the day with renewed determination. Wanda's offer of a Mommy and me weekend is a lifeline, a chance to rediscover myself amidst the chaos of grief and longing.

As we spend the day together, exploring the city and sharing stories of our pasts, I feel a sense of peace settle over me, a reassurance that maybe, just maybe, there's still hope for a future filled with love and laughter.

And as the sun sets on our day together, I realize that while Wanda may not be my Wanda, she's still a beacon of light in the darkness, a reminder that even in our darkest moments, there's always someone willing to stand by our side, to offer a hand to hold and a shoulder to lean on.

With her by my side, I know that no matter what the future may hold, I'll never have to face it alone. And as we head home, the weight of grief feels a little lighter, the shadows a little less daunting, as we embrace the possibility of a new beginning, together.

When we got back home, I pulled her to the couch, "Time to watch sitcoms." I tell her and her face lights up.

"Dick Van Dyke?" She asks.

"No Detka. I want to show you my favorite this time. It's a more modern one. It's an animated sitcom though is that okay?" I ask, realizing this Wanda maybe never experienced animated and only enjoyed live action ones.

"Of course dorogoya." Her accent popping out sent a wave through me that landed between my legs.

"O-okay good." I say and get 'Bob's Burgers' playing. As the show starts I settle in with a slight distance between us, but she pulls me in against her side.

"Is this okay dorogoya?" She asks looking down at me.

"Y-yeah...of course." I move slight, readjusting to get comfortable as we fit together like two missing puzzle pieces and I let out a sigh of relief, that feels like so much weight is taken off my shoulders.

As the episodes of "Bob's Burgers" played on, I found myself relaxing into Wanda's embrace, the tension that had been coiled tight within me slowly unraveling with each passing moment. Her warmth seeped into my bones, a comforting presence that chased away the lingering shadows of doubt and fear.

With her by my side, the laughter that bubbled up from the screen felt genuine, a reflection of the newfound camaraderie we shared. And as I stole glances at her profile, illuminated by the soft glow of the television, I couldn't help but marvel at the beauty of the moment, the simplicity of just being together.

Her laughter mingled with mine, the sound music to my ears, a symphony of joy that filled the room with warmth and light. And as the credits rolled on the final episode, I turned to her, a smile playing at the corners of my lips.

"Thank you," I said softly, my voice barely above a whisper. "For today. For everything."

She returned my smile, her eyes shimmering with affection. "Anytime. I'm here for you, always."

I sat there staring at her, getting lost in her eyes so much that I don't even realize that she's leaning in until she's inches from my lips, she stops and I can feel her breath on me, my own hitching,

"Is this okay dorogoya?" She whispers in a husk against my lips.

"Y-yes." I manage out as she kisses me softly at first, testing the waters, but soon enough she's kissing hungrily, like she's starving for my taste now that's she's had a nibble. My fingers find their way into her hair, getting tangled in her auburn locks. One of her hands is on the back of my neck and the other is on my hip, gripping tightly, I can feel her nails digging in.

The world falls away as our lips meet in a fiery embrace, a collision of passion and longing that ignites every nerve ending in my body. Her kiss is intoxicating, a whirlwind of desire and need that sweeps me away in a tide of sensation.

I lose myself in the taste of her, the feel of her lips moving against mine with a hunger that mirrors my own. Our breath mingles in the space between us, hot and heavy with unspoken desire, as the intensity of our embrace grows with each passing moment.

Her hands are everywhere at once, trailing fire along my skin as she pulls me closer, her touch igniting a wildfire of sensation within me. I cling to her desperately, losing myself in the dizzying whirl of pleasure that consumes us both.

Time loses all meaning as we surrender to the passion that binds us together, lost in a world of our own making where nothing else matters but the fiery connection that burns between us.

And as we finally break apart, breathless and trembling, I find myself drowning in the depths of her gaze, a silent promise of more to come lingering in the air between us.

In that moment, I know that this is just the beginning of our journey together, a journey filled with love, passion, and endless possibility. And as we cling to each other in the aftermath of our shared passion, I can't help but feel a sense of gratitude for the unexpected twist of fate that brought us together.

"Bed. Now." Her eyes lit up red for a moment. My Wanda had never been dominate, but this Wanda before me exuded dominance. I didn't waste any time getting up the stairs with her hot on my tail as we crashed into the bedroom, stumbling to the bed in a heat of kisses as she took the leading role.

The air crackled with electricity as we stumbled into the bedroom, our lips locked in a frenzy of passion and desire. Wanda's presence was intoxicating, her aura radiating power and dominance in a way I had never experienced before. And as she took the lead, pushing me onto the bed with a hunger that sent shivers down my spine, I felt myself surrendering to the raw intensity of the moment.

Her kisses were demanding, igniting a fire within me that burned hotter with each passing second. I moaned against her lips, my fingers tangling in her hair as I lost myself in the heat of the moment. Her touch was electric, sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through my body as she explored every inch of my skin with a hunger that left me breathless.

With each caress, each whispered word of desire, I felt myself falling deeper under her spell, my body responding eagerly to her every touch. And as she claimed me as her own, I surrendered to the overwhelming tide of sensation, losing myself in the ecstasy of our shared passion.

In that moment, there was only her, only us, lost in a world of pleasure and desire where nothing else mattered but the intoxicating connection that bound us together. And as we moved as one, bodies entwined in a symphony of passion, I knew that this was just the beginning of our journey together, a journey filled with love, lust, and endless possibility.

The sensation of relinquishing control, of surrendering completely to someone else's will, was both exhilarating and liberating. As I basked in the warmth of Wanda's dominance, I found myself embracing a side of myself that I had long suppressed, a side that craved the thrill of submission and surrender.

With each touch, each whispered command, I felt myself sinking deeper into the abyss of pleasure, my mind consumed by a haze of ecstasy that left me breathless and yearning for more. And as Wanda took the lead, guiding me with a firm yet gentle hand, I found myself surrendering to the overwhelming tide of sensation, losing myself in the intoxicating dance of pleasure and desire.

In her arms, I felt safe, cherished, and utterly alive, my body responding eagerly to her every touch and caress. And as we moved together in a symphony of passion and desire, I embraced the freedom that came with letting go, allowing myself to be swept away by the currents of our shared passion.

For in that moment, there was only her, only us, lost in a world of blissful surrender where nothing else mattered but the exquisite pleasure of our connection. And as we surrendered to the ecstasy of our shared desire, I knew that this was just the beginning of our journey together, a journey filled with exploration, discovery, and boundless pleasure.

"Ah...Wands..." A smack hit my thigh making me jolt and yelp.

"That's not my name Detka." I feel my stomach flip. I call her this all the time. I have for years now, but never in this setting. Another smack and then her teeth find my skin, biting and sucking harshly, marking me.

"Mommy!" I can feel the smirk against my thigh.

"Good girl. Go on. Show me how needy you are baby girl." Her fingers find themselves between my folds as I move my hips against them.

The sensation of her touch sent shivers of pleasure coursing through me, igniting a fire that burned hotter with each passing moment. I arched my back, pressing against her fingers as they explored the depths of my desire, teasing and tantalizing with a skill that left me trembling with need.

"Please," I whimpered, the word spilling from my lips in a desperate plea for more. Her touch was electric, sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through my body as she pushed me to the brink of ecstasy.

With each caress, each stroke, I felt myself teetering on the edge of oblivion, my senses overwhelmed by the intensity of our shared passion. And as she whispered words of encouragement, urging me to let go and surrender to the pleasure that awaited, I felt myself surrendering completely to the overwhelming tide of sensation.

In that moment, there was only her, only us, lost in a world of blissful abandon where nothing else mattered but the exquisite pleasure of our connection. And as I succumbed to the ecstasy of our shared desire, I knew that this was just the beginning of our journey together, a journey filled with passion, intensity, and boundless pleasure.

The sensation of Wanda's magic enveloping my wrists sent a thrill of anticipation coursing through me, a tangible reminder of her power and dominance. I tested the restraints, feeling the firm hold of her magic as it kept me securely in place, my heart pounding with a mixture of excitement and arousal.

"Safe word. Green, yellow, red. Green is keep going, yellow slow down, red is stop." Wanda husked.

"Green, yellow, red," I echoed, committing the safe words to memory as a reassurance of our mutual trust and consent. With each breath, each whispered command, I felt myself sinking deeper into the heady haze of pleasure, surrendering completely to the overwhelming tide of sensation.

As Wanda continued to explore my body with a skillful touch that left me trembling with need, I surrendered myself to the ecstasy of our shared desire, knowing that in her arms, I was safe, cherished, and utterly alive.

And as the intensity of our passion grew with each passing moment, I found myself teetering on the edge of oblivion, my senses overwhelmed by the sheer intensity of our connection. In that moment, there was only her, only us, lost in a world of blissful abandon where nothing else mattered but the exquisite pleasure of our shared desire.

I don't think there is a place she hasn't marked on me in some way and after hours of edging until I couldn't form sentences she finally let me release. A string of moans ripping through me as the most intense waves roll over me as I drown in them, covered in sweat and her marks.

As the waves of pleasure washed over me, leaving me trembling and spent, I basked in the afterglow of our shared passion, my body still tingling with the echoes of our ecstasy. But just when I thought the intensity had peaked, I felt something pressing against my entrance, a sensation that sent a jolt of anticipation coursing through me.

I gasped, my body instinctively tensing as Wanda's touch ignited a new wave of desire within me. Her fingers teased and tantalized, exploring the depths of my desire with a skill that left me breathless and eager for more.

With each gentle thrust, I felt myself opening up to her, surrendering completely to the overwhelming tide of sensation. The pleasure was exquisite, a symphony of ecstasy that echoed through every fiber of my being as I lost myself in the blissful abandon of our shared desire.

And as Wanda continued to guide me with a firm yet gentle hand, I surrendered myself to the pleasure of our connection, knowing that in her arms, I was safe, cherished, and utterly alive. In that moment, there was only her, only us, lost in a world of blissful abandon where nothing else mattered but the exquisite pleasure of our shared desire.

Wanda soon enough needed more and so did I, "Faster...ha-ah...harder..." My breath hot against her, panting like a dog and that gave her the perfect opportunity to place her fingers in my mouth, gaging me with them, but I loved every second as I sucked on them, moaning against them as I tasted myself on them from earlier.

The sensation of Wanda's fingers in my mouth sent a thrill of arousal coursing through me, a heady mixture of pleasure and desire that left me panting and eager for more. With each thrust, each gasp of pleasure, I eagerly sucked on her fingers, tasting myself on them from earlier.

The taste was intoxicating, a symphony of desire that heightened the intensity of our connection as we moved together in perfect harmony. And as Wanda responded to my pleas with a fervor that mirrored my own, I surrendered myself to the pleasure of our shared desire, knowing that in her arms, I was safe, cherished, and utterly alive.

With each thrust, I felt myself teetering on the edge of oblivion, my senses overwhelmed by the sheer intensity of our passion. And as we reached the peak of ecstasy together, I knew that this was just the beginning of our journey, a journey filled with passion, intensity, and boundless pleasure.

In that moment, there was only her, only us, lost in a world of blissful abandon where nothing else mattered but the exquisite pleasure of our shared desire. And as we surrendered ourselves to the ecstasy of our connection, I knew that this was just the beginning of our journey together, a journey filled with love, lust, and endless possibility.

As I slowly regained my senses, the cool towel on the back of my neck and Wanda's comforting presence helped anchor me in reality. Her magic gently caressed my mind, offering reassurance and care as I took in the aftermath of our intense encounter.

"Easy, Detka. You're okay," she murmured, and I found solace in the warmth of her embrace. I took the offered water bottle, sipping slowly as she continued to tend to my well-being. The realization that I had passed out from pleasure left me both surprised and amused.

"Thats never happened before," I admitted with a chuckle. "The other Wanda was more of a sub, so I was usually the one in control. Not that I didn't enjoy it, but being on the receiving end is a whole different experience."

Wanda's magic fetched a baggy shirt, and as I recognized it, a wave of nostalgia washed over me. It was a shirt from a concert we attended when we were sixteen, a tangible link to our shared past.

"It's good to know not everything is different," I remarked, smiling as she kissed my temple.

In the warmth of our makeshift cocoon, surrounded by blankets and pillows, Wanda's magic weaving a protective barrier around us, we continued to watch 'Bob's Burgers.' However, my focus was no longer on the show; instead, I found myself captivated by the woman holding me close.

A sudden wave of fear and doubt crashed over me as I wondered if this intimate encounter was just a one-time gesture to alleviate my grief. The fear of being tossed aside after a momentary respite haunted my thoughts, threatening to overshadow the joy we had just shared.

Wanda, sensing my internal struggle, gently addressed my concerns. "Hey, woah, Detka. Those thoughts of yours are the farthest thing from the truth. Do not listen to them. I would never do that to my soulmate," she reassured me, her forehead finding mine in a tender gesture of connection.

"I love you, Y/N," she confessed, her words washing away my fears and opening the floodgates to a cascade of happy tears. "I love you, Wands! I didn't think I'd ever get to hear you say those words to me again," I admitted, clinging to her shirt as I sobbed into her.

Wanda's promises echoed in my heart, a vow to cherish and reaffirm our love every day. She kissed away my tears, each tender touch a testament to the depth of her commitment. "I promise I'm going to say it every chance I get. I'm never going to stop. I'm going to remind you every day how beautiful you are and how much I love you, and I promise I'm never going to leave. No missions. Nothing like that. I'll always be by your side," she declared, her own tears mingling with mine.

In that moment, as we drowned in each other's love, I knew that this second chance at happiness was a gift we would both cherish. And as Wanda whispered, "I love you," over and over, I felt the weight of my grief lifting, replaced by the warmth of a love that transcended time and space.

========

In the midst of my peaceful dream, I found myself enveloped in a sense of tranquility unlike any I had experienced in well over a year. Waking up with a smile on my face I turn my head, looking over I gazed upon the sleeping form of Wanda, her features softened by the gentle embrace of slumber, I felt a rush of overwhelming love and affection welling up within me.

With a playful smile tugging at the corners of my lips, I leaned in closer, pressing gentle kisses along the curve of her neck. Each tender touch elicited a soft moan from her lips, a melody of pleasure that echoed through the stillness of the night.

Lost in the intoxicating embrace of our shared intimacy, I continued to shower her with affection, reveling in the warmth of her presence and the depth of our connection. And as I whispered her name, a soft murmur of adoration, I knew that this moment, this fleeting glimpse of happiness, was a treasure to be cherished for all eternity.

As Wanda began to stir awake, her voice still heavy with sleep, I couldn't help but feel a surge of affection for her. Her words, though tinged with a hint of warning, only served to deepen the bond between us.

"You're playing a dangerous game, kotenok," she murmured, her voice laced with sleepiness.

"Shchenok," I corrected gently, a small smile playing on my lips.

Her eyes snapped open at the correction, surprise evident in her expression. "When did you learn that?" she asked, her curiosity piqued.

I shrugged, the memories of our shared past flooding back to me. "I was with her for like 20 years of our lives. I learned most Russian. Also Natasha, she..." My voice trailed off as Wanda's expression shifted, a wave of sadness washing over her.

"Oh my god, I forgot about Natasha. Is... is she alive here?" she asked, tears welling up in her eyes.

I nodded solemnly, feeling a pang of empathy for the pain she must be feeling. Crawling into her lap, I wrapped my arms around her, offering what comfort I could. "You really lost a lot there, dorogoya," I whispered, my voice soft with compassion. "But don't worry, everyone here is safe. We've apparently had it relatively easy here, it seems."

I pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead, my heart overflowing with love and gratitude for this woman who had endured so much. "Now you have your loved ones back. You aren't alone anymore, and you won't ever be again. I promise."

==============

As the weekend unfolded, Wanda and I remained entwined in each other's arms, our connection deepening with each passing moment. When the boys returned home with their uncle Pietro, the atmosphere was filled with warmth and affection, a tangible sense of family that enveloped us all.

Pietro's hug was tight, filled with an unspoken understanding that transcended words. In his whispered question, "Did you guys finally connect?" I detected a mixture of curiosity and genuine concern.

With a small nod and a soft "Mmhmm," I confirmed what he already knew. This Wanda wasn't his real sister, just as she wasn't the Wanda I had known and loved for decades. But she was here, she was special, and in her embrace, I found a sense of solace and belonging that I had thought lost forever.

==============

As the following Friday arrived, Wanda and I made the decision to gather our friends and family together to share the details of our new lives. It was a momentous occasion, filled with a mix of anticipation and apprehension as we prepared to unveil the truth about our extraordinary circumstances.

Gathering our loved ones in a familiar setting, we began to recount the events that had led us to this moment, explaining the complexities of our intertwined destinies and the newfound connections we had forged. With each word, we sought to convey the depth of our emotions, the challenges we had overcome, and the hope that now burned bright within our hearts.

As our gathering unfolded, the emotions in the room were palpable, each hug and embrace a testament to the depth of our shared experiences and the bonds that bound us together.

Wanda's first instinct was to embrace Natasha tightly, their bodies trembling with sobs as they clung to each other. For both of them, it was a moment of overwhelming relief and joy, the realization that they had been given a second chance to be reunited with someone they had feared lost forever.

Next was Clint, the stalwart friend and ally who had saved Wanda countless times in her timeline, offering comfort and support when she needed it most. As they embraced, the weight of their shared history hung heavy in the air, a reminder of the trials they had faced and the strength they had found in each other's presence.

In that moment, surrounded by friends and family who had become like kin, Wanda and I felt a profound sense of gratitude for the bonds that had been forged through adversity. And as we shared stories and memories, laughter mingling with tears, we knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, we would face them together, drawing strength from the love and support that surrounded us.

As our friends and family listened intently, their expressions shifting from surprise to understanding, we felt a sense of relief wash over us. To have our loved ones by our side, supporting us through this journey, was a gift beyond measure.

And as we concluded our explanation, surrounded by the warmth and love of those closest to us, we knew that no matter what the future held, we would face it together, united in our shared bond and unwavering commitment to one another.

As the night wore on and the festivities continued, Stephen pulled me aside, his expression grave with concern. "You know what she's done in her universe, right?" he asked, his voice tinged with urgency.

I bristled at his question, feeling a surge of defensiveness rise within me. "Do not start this, Strange," I warned, jabbing a finger in his direction. "If I had gone through what she had, this universe wouldn't even exist. What she did, in my eyes, is child's play compared to the horrors she endured."

My words carried a weight of conviction, a steadfast belief in Wanda's resilience and the sacrifices she had made to protect those she loved. And as I met Stephen's gaze, I saw a flicker of understanding in his eyes, a silent acknowledgment of the depth of Wanda's strength and the magnitude of her courage.

"She threw a tantrum essentially. Took over a town for a bit and then went on a killing spree to get here. I saw it through her eyes. I know if it had been me, you'd be lucky if America had still been standing," I asserted, a hint of steel in my voice as I tapped the power stone embedded in my chest.

The reminder of the immense power at my disposal served as both a warning and a declaration. Wanda's actions in her universe were a testament to the depths of her grief and the consequences of unchecked power. In contrast, I recognized the responsibility that came with wielding such force, a responsibility I vowed to use wisely to protect those I loved.

As the weight of our conversation lingered, Stephen nodded in acknowledgment, a silent understanding passing between us. The night continued, but the specter of the past and the potential for the future hung in the air, a reminder that even in moments of celebration, the shadows of our pasts were never truly far behind.

"I don't think you understand, my strength isn't superhuman, it's otherworldly. The precision it requires to ensure I don't break everything around me at any given moment is a delicate balance. With one punch, I wouldn't just put a crater in the earth, I'd break it in half," I emphasized, underscoring the magnitude of the power I possessed.

The distinction between superhuman strength and the cosmic force I wielded was crucial to grasp. While others might possess extraordinary abilities, mine was on a different scale altogether, capable of reshaping the very fabric of reality itself. It was a responsibility that weighed heavily on me, requiring a level of control and restraint beyond what most could comprehend.

As I spoke, I could sense the gravity of my words sinking in, the realization dawning on Stephen of the immense power at my command. It was a sobering reminder of the delicate balance between strength and responsibility, a balance that I vowed to uphold no matter the cost.

"I'm sorry, Y/N, I just wanted to remind you-" Stephen began, but I swiftly cut him off, my tone firm yet understanding. "Don't, Stephen. I know you're just trying to help. I don't need the reminder though," I assured him, acknowledging his concern while asserting my own understanding of the situation.

With a nod of acceptance, Stephen backed off, respecting my boundaries and allowing me to return to the comforting embrace of Wanda, who had been engaged in conversation with Natasha and Clint. As I settled back into her arms, the warmth of her presence enveloped me, a reassuring reminder of the love and support that surrounded me.

In that moment, surrounded by friends and family, I felt a sense of peace wash over me, a quiet reassurance that no matter the challenges we faced, we would face them together, united in our shared bonds and unwavering commitment to one another.

As Wanda continued her conversation with Natasha and Clint, her fingers traced delicate patterns on my hip, their touch a gentle caress that spoke volumes of the journey she had undertaken. Once stained with blood, those same hands now exuded a tenderness and compassion that belied the darkness of the past.

Feeling the soothing rhythm of her touch, I couldn't help but marvel at the transformation Wanda had undergone, the evolution from a place of pain and turmoil to one of healing and redemption. It was a testament to her resilience and strength, a reminder that even in the face of adversity, it was possible to find light amidst the shadows.

In that moment, as her touch danced across my skin, I felt a profound sense of gratitude for the woman before me, for the love and forgiveness she had extended, and for the hope that now blossomed within our hearts. And as our conversation continued, I knew that no matter what trials lay ahead, we would face them together, bound by the unbreakable bond of love and understanding that had brought us to this moment.

As the room suddenly filled with the energetic presence of our children, along with Clint's youngest and Kate close behind, my boys bounded into mine and Wanda's arms with cries for help. "Moms! Save us from the monster!" they pleaded, their laughter filling the air.

I chuckled as I gathered them close, feeling their warmth and energy envelop me in a comforting embrace. Glancing over, I caught sight of Kate playfully tickling Nathaniel, the mischievous grin on her face confirming my suspicions.

With a smile, I joined Wanda in rescuing our boys from the clutches of the imaginary monster, enveloping them in hugs and laughter as we reveled in the joy of family and friendship. In that moment, surrounded by the ones we loved most, I couldn't help but feel an overwhelming sense of gratitude for the blessings that filled our lives, each smile and laugh a reminder of the happiness that awaited us in the days to come.

As the boys began to drift off to sleep in my arms, I couldn't help but smile at the sight. "I think it's time to go, my love," I murmured to Wanda, gesturing towards our sleeping sons. Despite their ten years, I scooped them up effortlessly, their weight feeling light in my arms.

A momentary look of surprise flickered across Wanda's face, her gaze lingering on me as she seemed to momentarily forget about my strength. At just 4'11, I was indeed petite for someone with such power, a fact that often caught others off guard.

With a soft chuckle, I gently adjusted the boys in my arms, their peaceful expressions a testament to the love and security they felt in our embrace. As we prepared to leave, I felt a surge of gratitude for the family we had become, bound together by love and the unbreakable bond of kinship. With Wanda by my side, I knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, we would face them together, united in our shared love and determination to protect those we held dear.

As I glanced over at Wanda, watching the tender expression on her face as she looked upon our sleeping sons, my heart swelled with love and gratitude. The depth of emotion reflected in her eyes filled me with a sense of warmth and contentment, knowing that our family was complete and our bond unbreakable.

In that moment, as we stood together, surrounded by the quiet stillness of the night, I felt a profound sense of peace wash over me. The love that radiated between us and enveloped our children was a testament to the strength of our connection, a bond forged in the fires of adversity and tempered by the trials we had faced together.

As we prepared to depart, I reached out to take Wanda's hand, intertwining our fingers in a silent gesture of unity and love. With a shared smile, we turned and made our way home, our hearts full and our spirits lifted by the knowledge that no matter what challenges lay ahead, we would face them together, as a family.

===========

Wanda and I are on the couch when she asks, "Do you have photo albums of the boys?" I look at her, peeling my eyes from the TV as I pause it.

"Of course." I get up grabbing several albums of almost everything of their lives. "After we left the Avengers I took solace in capturing moments so we have a lot." I tell her as she starts through her pregnancy photos one of every month. Then the hospital photos of her giving birth. The look of pure happiness and bliss on both our faces as we held the boys. Both of us having skin to skin contact with them. As Wanda goes through the albums she starts crying.

"I missed out on so much because of my magic..." she whispered solemnly. "They went from babies, to 5, to 10 all because of words I said...Y/N...I missed everything." Knowing that Wanda had used her magic to create our boys in her universe and not anything like how we had here made her incredibly sad. I hate seeing her like this.

"How about I show you. Their first words, their first steps, everything." With a gentle touch, I leaned in closer to her, resting my forehead against hers as I offered her a silent gesture of comfort and solidarity. Feeling her fingers against my temples, I closed my eyes and allowed the memories to flow, every precious moment from the joyous announcement of her pregnancy to the bittersweet final days we shared together playing out before her.

As the memories unfolded like a vivid tapestry, I watched as Wanda's tears began to subside, replaced by a sense of wonder and awe. Through the magic of our shared recollections, she was able to witness the milestones she had missed, the laughter and love that had filled our home in her absence.

In that moment, as we shared in the memories of our past, I felt a renewed sense of hope blossom within me. Though Wanda may have missed out on so much, I was determined to make every moment from this point forward count, to cherish the time we had together and to create new memories that would fill the void left by the past.

With a gentle smile, I wrapped my arms around her, holding her close as we basked in the warmth of our shared love. And as the echoes of our memories faded into the night, I knew that no matter what trials lay ahead, we would face them together, united in our unwavering commitment to one another and to our family.

As I looked into Wanda's eyes, feeling the weight of her sadness and longing, I knew that I had to do everything in my power to ease her pain and make up for the lost time. With a gentle touch, I cupped her cheek in my hand, my thumb brushing away the tears that lingered there.

"Everything with them feels too quick and also a lifetime," I whispered softly, my heart swelling with love and determination. "But now that you're here with us, you'll get to experience it all with me. Together."

In that moment, as we shared in our shared resolve to embrace the present and forge ahead as a family, I felt a sense of peace wash over me. No matter what challenges lay ahead, we would face them together, united in our love and commitment to one another.

With a tender smile, I leaned in to press a gentle kiss against Wanda's forehead, silently promising to cherish every moment we shared and to make up for the lost time in any way I could. Together, we would build a future filled with love, laughter, and endless memories, united in our bond as a family.

Once we put the albums away, shut the TV off for the night we headed upstairs. Stopping to look in at the boys sleeping peacefully before heading to our own room, getting ourselves ready for bed. As I climb in, stretching out, Wanda climbs on top of me. I bite my bottom lip, looking up at her. I can see the look she has. I wrap my arms around her neck, gently trying to pull her down. She doesn't budge.

"Did you want something, shchenok?" Between the look in her eyes, the sound of her voice, and her in just a tank top of sleep shorts I'm weak to her completely under her not just physically.

"Want you. Need you." I tell her trying again to pull and when she still doesn't budge. I pout and whine. "Wands...please.."

As Wanda's hands worked their magic, binding mine above my head with a delicate yet firm touch, I felt a rush of excitement and anticipation coursing through me. With each tug of her magic, I was rendered powerless, completely at her mercy as she explored my body with a hunger that ignited a fire within me.

"Behave and we'll see where it goes," she husked, her words sending shivers down my spine as she pushed up my shirt, her lips finding purchase on my chest with an intensity that left me breathless. The sensation of her teeth grazing my skin, her tongue tracing patterns across my flesh, sent waves of pleasure radiating through me, making me squirm and writhe beneath her touch.

As I felt myself slipping deeper into subspace, surrendering to the heady mix of pleasure and vulnerability, I couldn't help but lose myself in the moment, giving in completely to the sensations that engulfed me. With each kiss, each caress, I felt myself unraveling, consumed by the overwhelming desire that burned between us.

In that moment, as I surrendered myself to Wanda's tender ministrations, I felt a profound sense of connection and intimacy that transcended the physical realm. With her by my side, I knew that I was safe, cherished, and loved beyond measure, and as I surrendered to the ecstasy of the moment, I knew that our bond would only grow stronger with each passing day.

Wanda plays with me and teases me for hours and I can't even remember how many times she's pushed me over the edge of ecstasy. As she brought me to another one as she slammed into me with a magic strap-on she'd conjured up, my mind already drowning in subspace, barely able to form words, but one slips out and then a few more,

"Mommy...gonna...ah-ha...ah..." After my words she sped up leaning down to whisper in my ear,

"That's right cum for Mommy like a good girl. Mommy's gonna cum with you. Gonna fill you up and breed you baby girl." As she whispered those final words in my ear, her voice a husky growl of lust and desire, I felt myself shattering into a million pieces, my entire being consumed by the ecstasy of release. With a cry of pure ecstasy, I let myself fall over the edge, my body trembling with the force of my climax as I surrendered myself entirely to the pleasure that engulfed me. Feeling her fill me up completely made my eyes roll back and the only word I could comprehend was, “Mommy.”

In that moment, as I basked in the afterglow of our shared ecstasy, I knew that I was exactly where I belonged, wrapped in the arms of the woman I loved more than anything in the world.

Taglist: @dorabledewdroop

[guiltyasdave]

delicate

pairing: modern!Oberyn Martell x f!reader

word count: ~3.9k

summary: You meet a mysterious man at a club. He's just as attracted to you as you are to him.

warnings/tags: explicit smut (-> 18+ only!), alcohol consumption, able-bodied reader, no use of y/n, very soft dom!Oberyn, protected p in v (who am I), dirty talk, fingering, anal play (m receiving), a hint of angst, romance because I can't help myself

a/n: written for @dancingtotuyo’s on repeat drabble challenge, based on the song delicate by taylor swift. this is honestly just feral, i have nothing to say for myself.

dividers as always by @saradika-graphics <3

find my full masterlist here and follow @guiltyasdavenotifs for fic updates!

Lights are flashing, colors dancing over the exposed skin of your arms and shoulders; the bass is pumping, making your whole body feel like it’s vibrating from within. You’re clinging to your friend, your arms intertwined as you navigate your way through the crowd of people to the bar.

You first see him as you’re gulping down your drink, welcoming the cool liquid in your parched throat. Your eyes are observing the crowd, flying over him and then flickering back to take a second glance. 

He’s gorgeous, his dark hair a mess, a beard framing his face, his skin shining under the lights. He’s wearing a shirt that flows around his body, threads of gold weaving through the fabric and reflecting the dancing lights. It’s almost entirely undone, giving you a generous look at the expanse of his toned chest, at the sun-kissed skin that you feel a sudden urge to run your fingers over. A massive gold chain with a lock hangs around his neck, an accessory that you’re convinced would look absolutely ridiculous on anyone else. But on him, it somehow only accentuates the strong cords of muscle that ripple under his skin in a way that makes you want to lick your lips. 

He moves with a confident ease, his body in tune with the stomping beats, his whole being exuding an almost cocky self-assuredness. You keep drinking him in, fascinated in a way that you can barely understand. You realize that you’ve been staring when your friend follows your line of sight and you hear her quiet gasp beside you. 

“Haven’t seen that one around before,” her voice floats into your ear over the music and you shake your head in silent agreement. You’d definitely remember if you did. 

You both watch him move with the body of a woman next to him, watch him bend down to whisper something into her ear, watch the way his lips curl into a smug grin as she grinds against him in reaction to his words. 

“Too late, I guess,” you laugh, downing the rest of your drink and tearing your eyes away. 

The two of you head back into the crowd, swaying your bodies to the beat. You try to get lost in the feeling of it, but your eyes keep searching for him, hungrily grasping at the glimpses of him that you can spot. Eventually, you watch the retreating backs of both of him and the woman head toward the exit, their bodies closely intertwined. Like you said, you try to shrug it off, too late. It’s not a big deal, there’s more than enough other guys around you. 

But you don’t go home with any of those guys, none of them able to catch your interest the way he did, and when you lie in bed in the early morning hours, your head pleasantly buzzing with the remaining alcohol in your bloodstream, you still see him behind your eyelids. 

A few weeks go by and while you hope to catch him every time that you’re out, there’s no trace of him. It isn’t until your friend’s birthday celebration, a tradition that the two of you have kept up for years, that you see him again. 

Again, you’re leaning against the bar, your eyes aimlessly drifting over the dancefloor while you’re sipping on your drink, when you spot him. He’s wearing another colorful shirt, his chest almost entirely on display, and he’s shamelessly grinding against another young man as they’re both moving to the beat. You can’t tear your eyes away, apparently staring so intently that he catches you and throws you a wink across the room. 

You feel heat rising in your cheeks and almost turn away, but he’s already on his way, moving towards you with a cat-like grace, effortlessly weaving through the crowd of moving bodies. 

“Hey,” he says, leaning into you so close that his breath fans hot against your ear, causing goosebumps to rise on your neck. “Saw something you like?” 

You grin at him over the rim of your glass, biting your lip and nodding. He mirrors your grin, an almost predatory glint in his eyes. He’s even more gorgeous up close, a light sheen of sweat on his face and his eyes a smoldering brown, his dark hair a mess with strands sticking to his forehead. You take in his toned chest, his broad shoulders and you desperately want to touch your hands to his golden skin. A foreign accent is lacing his words in the most delicious way, only adding to the pull that you feel towards him. 

“Let me buy you another drink,” he purrs and you accept, thanking him and offering him your name. You relish in the way you have to lean into him so that he can hear you, greedily soaking in his scent and his body heat that make your mouth water. 

His name is Oberyn, you learn, a name that sounds foreign on your tongue and you could swear that a quiet growl rises up his throat when you repeat it back to him. 

You’d love to spend your evening dancing with him, pressing your body against his, find out if moving with him feels as good as it looks from the outside. But it’s your friend’s birthday, and you’re gonna stick together, dance the night away with each other and no one else, the way you do every year. 

He shrugs it off when you tell him as much, an unbothered grin on his face as he promises you another time then. His hand wraps around your wrist, the warmth of it sinking into your skin as he pulls your arm out towards him, a black marker suddenly in his other hand. 

“What are you–” you begin to ask, but your voice dies at the sight of him pulling the cap off with his teeth, something that really shouldn’t affect you this much. 

He bends over your arm and it takes your hazy mind a moment to register that he’s writing numbers onto your skin. You’re getting lost in the feeling of his hand on you, even in such an innocent place, and your thoughts are already jumping to fantasies of how it would feel trailing up your arm and over your body. 

“There,” his voice floats into your ear and you almost jump. The smug look on his face leaves no doubt that he knows exactly what kind of effect he has on you. He leans in close again, so close that you can feel his breath on your skin. Your mouth feels dry. 

You look down at your arm, now adorned with digits in black ink. A phone number. 

“Give me a call,” he smirks, and leans in even closer, until his lips move against the shell of your ear and a shudder runs down your back at the sensation. “Just think of the fun things we could do.” He throws you another wink and slides away from you, back into the crowd. 

You text him the next day, worried if it’s too soon, if it makes you seem desperate. Then again, you have to admit to yourself, you are desperate. Desperate to hear his voice again, desperate to feel his hands on you again. Texting him is less awkward than you had hoped, his demeanor putting you at ease almost immediately. You catch yourself smiling at the screen, already down bad for this man. 

You’re in bed, struggling to calm down enough to sleep when your phone’s screen lights up the darkness of your bedroom from where it’s lying on your nightstand. 

He’s asking you to meet him in a dive bar, right now, if you want to. You’re reluctant at first, once again worried to appear too eager, but the almost magnetic pull that you feel towards him eventually leads you out of your apartment and to the address he sent you. 

He’s waiting for you in the back, just like he told you. Wearing dark jeans and a white t-shirt, the fabric stretching around his broad chest in a way that makes it hard not to stare, dressed much more casually than you’ve come to know from him. It doesn’t take away from his persona one bit, he’s still exuding that energy that seems to let him command every room he’s in, that makes it so hard for you to resist him. 

He buys you a drink and pulls you into a corner booth with him. Talking to him is easy, he’s an attentive listener and his quick remarks make you laugh, leaning into him when you do. You learn that he’s not from around here, that he flew in to visit friends but that he’s thinking about moving here permanently. It almost scares you, how giddy that prospect makes you, the idea of having the chance to keep seeing him. His arm finds its way around your shoulders eventually, his fingers drawing shapes over your skin. The innocent contact makes you feel like a teenager, suddenly sixteen again. 

He walks you home later, his arm still wrapped around you, pulling you into his side. It feels good, a sense of safety and intimacy that you feel yourself getting lost in. You had thought that he was hot, that he would be a fun hookup, but as the minutes tick on, you realize how much you already like him. How much you want this feeling to last. 

It feels so natural, turning around to face him when you reach your building, both of you leaning in simultaneously until your lips meet, like it’s the only possible way for this evening to end. You think that it is. 

Kissing him feels even better than you had envisioned in your mind, and you melt against him, one hand braced against his chest while the other comes up to pull at the hair in the nape of his neck, needing him closer, not ready to let him go. He’s cupping your face in both hands, his thumbs caressing your cheeks, and you feel him smile against your lips. You lick into his mouth, revel in the groan that rumbles deep in his chest. 

You don’t let go of him, holding onto his hand when you pull him up the stairs, soak in the feeling of him pressed against your body when you unlock your apartment door, let him connect his lips with yours again when he walks you backwards down your hallway.

Everything about him feels so right, so safe and yet like the most exciting experience you’ve ever had. You breathe him in, ecstatic with the sensation of his broad form against you, with the way you feel his muscles move under your fingers where you’re grabbing at his shoulders.

He lets you lead him into your bedroom, his hands still all over you. You push him down to sit on the edge of your bed and he follows your lead, sinking down on the mattress with an easy grin on his face, regarding you with hooded eyes. He wraps his hands around your waist as you’re standing in front of him and he pulls you closer. His fingers find their way below the hem of your skirt, dancing over the supple skin of your thighs, slowly inching up higher. 

You whine, already squirming under his touch, and his grin widens. 

“So soft,” he coos up at you, tightening his grip on your thighs and moving you to straddle him, your legs already spread wide to accommodate the thickness of his thighs beneath you. One hand comes up to cradle your face again, his thumb nudging at your lips and you flick your tongue against the digit, making him chuckle. 

“And so pretty,” he continues, leaning in to connect your lips once more. You want to melt into him, let him consume every fiber of your being. 

Your hands tug at his t-shirt, pulling it up, desperate to satisfy the need to be closer to him, to feel his bare skin against yours. He helps you, lifting the fabric over his head. You’ve seen most of his chest before, but not like this, not revealed just for you, in the dim light of your bedroom, yours to look at, yours to touch. He somehow seems even broader without clothes on and you’re almost transfixed by the thick cords of muscle of his arms and shoulders that are on display for you now. 

He chuckles again, placing another kiss at the corner of your lips. 

“You alright, princess?” 

“Yeah,” you murmur, feeling breathless, overwhelmed with how much you want him. 

His hands splay over your thighs, fingertips dipping beneath your skirt again, slowly, teasingly skating higher. 

“Take this off for me.” It’s phrased like an order, but it’s still so soft, not leaving a doubt in your mind that you could say no if you wanted to. But you don’t. You want him to see you, want to feel his eyes on you, want to have this hungry look that’s trained on your face burning all over your body. 

He groans when you obey, a deep, rumbling sound that goes straight to your core and you know that he feels your thighs clenching on top of his. His mouth is on your bare skin within seconds, kissing and sucking, his tongue moving against you like he’s going to devour you. 

You arch against him with a whine when he circles your nipple, first with his fingers and then with his tongue before sucking the sensitive bud between his lips. It’s all encompassing, the wetness of his mouth, the strong grip of his hands, the heat of his chest seeping into your skin where you’re pressing yourself against him. 

“Please, Oberyn,” you whimper, not even sure what you’re asking for, just knowing that you need more. His responding moan sends vibrations from his mouth straight through you, before his fingers dig into your waist and he flips you over, until your back is resting on your sheets and he’s hovering over you, your thighs still spread wide around him. 

The image alone is enough to send another wave of arousal through you, the way he looks just as wrecked as you feel. His large hands spread your thighs wider as he leans back, his eyes trained on your panties, where you know the fabric must be soaked already. 

“So pretty,” he mumbles again, more to himself than to you. His eyes fly back up to meet yours, almost black, his pupils blown wide. “Can I take these off?” He dips a finger under the lace covering your hip, pulling it away and letting it snap against your skin. 

“Please.” You don’t care how desperate you sound, not when he looks up at you with the most sinful smirk on his face. His hands grasp the fabric and you lift your hips to help him pull it down, but his smirk widens as he tears the lace in half, ripping the shreds off of your body. 

“Fuck,” you whine, not a single thought wasted on the fact that those were some of your favorite panties, every part of you focused on how badly you want his hands all over you. 

His eyes stay focused on your expression, eagerly drinking in your every reaction as his fingers dip between your legs, so close to where you so desperately need him. He groans when he feels the wetness seeping from your folds, swirling his digits through it before reaching your clit. He’s ghosting over the sensitive nub with barely any pressure, but it’s enough to elicit a moan from you, your hips canting up to follow his touch. You’re distantly aware of the pleas that are falling from your lips, giving way to a loud whine when he finally sinks two thick fingers into your heat. 

He thrusts into you, curling them just right, and his name tumbles out of your mouth again, laced with pure need. You watch in fascination when he sucks his slick-coated fingers into his mouth, eyes still trained on your face, a rumble forming in his chest at the taste. 

“Tastes so sweet, princess.”

Your thighs fall open wider, shamelessly offering yourself to him, to his eyes, his hands. You reach out, grabbing at his waist, the need to feel all of him nearly overwhelming. His fingers intertwine with yours, pulling your hands away from his body. He lifts them up to his mouth and presses soft kisses against your knuckles, a whisper of patience on his lips before he lets go of you and rises up to rid himself of his jeans. 

Your eyes widen at the sight of him, a needy sigh escaping you when you think about feeling him inside you, about the way he’s gonna stretch your walls. You sit up, eagerly reaching for him again. Your fingers wrap around his cock, mesmerized by his girth, and he hisses when you move your hand over his length. 

You hear the crinkle of plastic and then his hand is on yours, gently tugging it away, much too soon for your liking. You watch as he puts the condom on with practiced ease, the sight of his own hands on his cock enough to send another wave of arousal through you. 

He’s back on you before you know it, sliding in between your spread legs, his large hands splayed over your upper thighs, pushing them further apart. His eyes are trained on your weeping pussy, a hungry darkness in them. You whine when he rubs his cock through your wetness before tapping against your clit.

“You want this?” he asks, his voice husky. 

“Please, Oberyn.” Your desperate plea breaks off into a filthy moan when he sheathes himself inside of you, breaching your tight walls with the most delicious sting, and you feel your eyes rolling back into your head. 

Pleasure grows inside of you as he starts to move, slamming into your pussy in a forceful rhythm. You feel so full of him, the sensation almost overwhelming as he hits the perfect spot over and over. The wave inside of you crests so suddenly that you barely realize what’s happening, the need that you’ve felt brewing all evening finally reaching its peak. 

You gasp his name, nails pressing into his shoulders as he fucks you through it, until you’re a trembling mess beneath him. He slows, moving in and out of you with shallow thrusts, his lips on yours once more. 

You stay like that for a moment, arms wrapped around him, holding him close while you bask in the bliss that you’ve just experienced. But his continuous movements have the hunger for more growing inside of you once more. You meet his thrusts with your hips, needy to feel him deeper again. He props himself up, and it’s sinful how good he looks, his face glowing, a sheen of sweat on his skin. 

You suck one of your fingers into your mouth, eyes wide and holding his gaze, feigning innocence. He watches you, a curious glint in his eyes, as you trail your hands from his shoulders down his back until you reach his ass and pull him further into you, fingernails digging into his flesh. 

You let your saliva-covered finger reach further, gently massaging the puckered ring of muscle and he gasps, thrusting into you with so much force that it jostles your whole body and you cry out, the sensation of him so deep inside you a heady mix of pleasure and pain. 

“Fuck,” he grits between his teeth as you keep up your ministrations, delighted to have this effect on him. “Fuck, princess, just like that…” 

You bite your lip, grinning up at him. “Do the girls back home touch you like I do?” 

He breathes out a laugh and shakes his head, his movements never faltering as he gathers your wrists in his hands and pins them down on the mattress beside your head. 

“No. And you’re gonna make me come if you keep this up, but I’m not finished with you yet,” he purrs, leaning down and sucking bruising kisses into the soft skin of your throat, the scratch of his beard only adding to the sensation. You free one of your hands from his grip to tug at his hair, your fingers burrowing in the soft strands at his neck and scratching against his scalp. 

“You can give me one more, can’t you?” His voice in your ear makes you shiver and you nod, a breathless please on your lips. 

“Good girl.” His kiss is soft against your cheek before he pulls away, his thrusts speeding up, as he grabs your hips, holding them up, giving you no choice but to take him. “Touch yourself,” he demands, the tendons in his neck straining with exertion. 

Your fingers are on your clit within moments, rubbing against it, slick with your arousal. The coil inside you tightens again, desperate for release once more. 

“Give it to me princess, come on.” His voice sounds wrecked, and it’s the thing that makes you leap over the edge a second time, stars exploding behind your eyelids as you pulse around him, pure pleasure soaring through you. 

He comes to a stuttering halt, hips pressed flush against yours, and his groans are almost enough to make you want to come again. He falls forward, forehead pressed against yours, and you share a lazy smile. 

You think that he really is the most beautiful person that you’ve ever met.

You fell asleep curled against him, your head resting on his chest and soaking up his warmth, with his arm around your shoulder, but when you blink awake to soft morning light falling through your curtains, you are alone. You roll onto your back, staring up at the ceiling. You’ve seen him at the club, he’s probably in a different bed almost every night, you shouldn’t be surprised that he snuck out of yours in the morning. And you sure as hell shouldn’t be disappointed. 

You get up with a sigh, pulling a t-shirt over your head and padding down the hall to the kitchen. You come to an abrupt halt in the doorway, met with a sight that you hadn’t expected. He’s standing in front of your open fridge, the expanse of his back bare and turned towards you. There’s a swoop of excitement in your stomach.

You exhale loudly and he turns towards you, an easy smile on his lips. “Good morning.” His voice sounds raspier, still thick with sleep. 

“Hey,” you say, returning his smile. He closes the distance between you and cups your face, the sensation of his thumb against your cheek already a familiar one. His lips find yours and you get lost in the feeling of it, in the fantasy of this being your every morning, in pretending that he’s yours. 

When he pulls away, the words are out of your mouth before your mind is able to catch up.

“I think I really like you.” 

You want to bite your tongue immediately, to take them back. Too early, the voice in your head screams. Your eyes widen as you search for something else to say, but he doesn’t waver, still regarding you with that relaxed smile on his handsome face.

“Is– is it okay that I said that?” 

He hums, his large hand still on your cheek. 

“I think I really like you too.”

as always, if you enjoyed this, please consider putting a smile on my face by reblogging, commenting or sending in an ask <3 thank you for reading!

[graynvmbr]

Heart of the Hollow | Harry Potter

pairing: harry james potter x female!reader (no use of y/n)

summary: family life with Harry

word count: 3.5k

The morning sun crept over the cottage in Godric's Hollow, casting soft beams across the bedroom where Harry lay peacefully beside you. His face, softened in sleep, held the same quiet intensity that had always drawn you to him. His hair fell messily over his forehead, and one hand remained loosely entwined with yours from the night before. You couldn’t resist tracing a gentle finger along his knuckles, feeling a surge of warmth at the small contented sigh he let out in response.

Before long, a small, familiar sound floated down the hallway: Lily was awake, her soft coos signalling she was ready for her morning feed. You slipped out of bed, reluctant to disturb Harry but eager to tend to your youngest. As you crept toward the nursery, you glanced back to find Harry’s eyes now partially open, a sleepy smile playing on his lips.

"Is she up already?" he murmured, rubbing his eyes. “I swear, she must sense you’re awake the second you are.”

“She knows what she wants,” you said with a smile, leaning over to brush his messy hair back. “I’ll be back in a bit.”

You padded softly down the hall to Lily’s room, her coos turning to delighted gurgles the moment you lifted her from her crib, her tiny face lighting up with recognition. “Good morning, my sweet girl,” you whispered, cradling her close as you settled into the rocking chair by the window. Lily latched on easily, her little fingers curling around yours, and you savoured the gentle sounds she made as she nursed, her wide, trusting eyes locked on you. You could hear the faint creak of the bed and soft footsteps padding down the hallway as Harry rose to start the morning.

When you made it to the kitchen, Harry was already up, moving about with the ease of someone who had made a habit of early mornings and breakfast routines. Soon, the smell of pancakes and hot chocolate filled the kitchen, making the cottage feel even cosier.

“Good morning to my two favourite girls,” he said, leaning in to press a warm kiss to your forehead before turning back to the stove. “Want some hot chocolate, or tea?”

“Some tea would be lovely.” you felt Lily shift in your arms, her little face brightening as she took in the cosy kitchen, her eyes wide with wonder. Just then, two sets of footsteps pattered down the stairs as James and Will made their way into the kitchen, both boys still in their pyjamas, but wide awake. At six, James was always the first to spring into action, darting over to Harry’s side to ask, “Daddy, can I help with breakfast?” He was quick to start mixing the batter, his determination and eagerness making you smile. James had inherited Harry’s adventurous spirit, always brimming with energy and ideas. You often found him with an imaginative “quest” in mind, ready to take on the world—qualities that made him his father’s son through and through.

Will, on the other hand, stayed close to your side, reaching up for a hug as he shyly took in the morning scene. At four, he was more reserved than his brother, his quiet presence a soft, gentle contrast to James’ exuberance. As you balanced Lily in one arm, you wrapped the other around Will’s shoulders, feeling his little body relax against you. His sensitivity made him especially attuned to his family, and he tended to linger nearby, content just to be close. “James, you want to help set the table with your brother?” Harry suggested, handing him a couple of plates. James took them eagerly, marching to the table with a serious expression.

“Come on, Will,” James said, beckoning his younger brother with a grin. “We have a big mission this morning!”

Will’s face brightened, and he looked to you for encouragement. You gave him a nod, and he scampered off after James, who was already arranging the plates with a soldier’s precision.

Once the table was set, everyone gathered around for breakfast. Harry poured you a cup of tea, his hand lingering on yours with a warmth that spread through you. James, always eager, launched into a story about his plans for the morning, complete with sweeping gestures and sound effects, while Will listened intently, a small smile on his face as he took in every detail. Little Lily, now in your lap, watched her brothers with wide eyes, content to be part of the family’s lively breakfast.

“I’m going to build a huge fortress in the living room,” he announced with excitement, his hands flying in wide arcs as he described it. “It’ll be so strong, no dark wizard could ever get through!”

Harry grinned, nodding encouragingly. “That sounds like an impressive fortress, Jamie. You’ll have to show me when I get back.”

Will listened intently to his brother, his eyes wide with admiration. “Can I help, James?” he asked quietly, and James nodded with a proud grin.

“Of course! Every fortress needs a good guard,” he declared happily.

Lily watched her brothers with wide eyes from your lap, her small hands reaching out occasionally as if trying to join in on the conversation. You stroked her soft hair, feeling a wave of warmth at the sight of your family, all together in this little kitchen.

When breakfast was over, Harry kissed each of the kids goodbye before pulling you aside, his hand resting gently against your cheek as he met your gaze. “I’ll be back as soon as I can,” he promised, his voice soft. He leaned in, pressing a kiss to your lips, lingering just a moment longer than necessary. You leaned into him, savouring the quiet intimacy of the moment, before reluctantly letting him go. As he left for the Auror office, you settled in with the kids for the day, Lily nestled comfortably in her bassinet in the living room while you worked at the desk, grading assignments and responding to owls from your colleagues.

James, ever the adventurer, spent the morning flitting around the living room, narrating his latest “mission” to protect the family from invisible “dark wizards.” Lily watched with fascination, her tiny face following his every move.

“Look out, Mum! Dark wizard on the left!” James called, darting in front of you with his “wand” at the ready—a stick he’d picked up from the garden the other day.

“Oh, thank goodness you’re here, Jamie!” you replied with a laugh, playing along. “Whatever would we do without such a brave protector?”

James beamed at you, puffing out his chest. “Don’t worry, Mummy. I’ll keep everyone safe.”

Meanwhile, Will played quietly nearby, stacking blocks and arranging toys in neat rows. Occasionally, he glanced over at Lily, reaching out to gently pat her hand, his soft-spoken nature drawing a smile from you.

When lunchtime arrived, you called everyone to the kitchen and settled them around the table. James, still caught up in his imaginary world, dove right into his food, barely pausing between bites to add more details to his story. “Even heroes need to eat,” he announced. Will listened intently, a quiet smile on his face as he looked between you and his brother. Little Lily was nestled in her high chair beside you, making soft sounds as she kicked her legs happily.

In the afternoon, the garden called to you, so you bundled up the children and stepped outside. James immediately took off running, his laughter filling the air as he explored each corner of the garden, his boundless energy sparking with every step. Will, as usual, stayed close, his small hand wrapped around yours, taking comfort in your presence. Occasionally, he glanced up at Lily, who you held close in a soft wrap against your chest, her curious eyes following her big brother’s every move.

James bounded up to you after a while, his face flushed with excitement. “Mummy! Look at all the leaves!” he said, gesturing to a pile of autumn leaves in the corner of the yard. “Can we jump in them?”

You nodded with a grin. “Go for it, love. But remember to be careful!”

With a whoop of joy, James dashed forward, flinging himself into the pile with abandon. Will, more hesitant, looked up at you with a questioning smile. “You can jump too, Will. Go on,” you encouraged him, squeezing his hand.

Will smiled, letting go of your hand as he joined James in the leaf pile. They both rolled around, laughing and tossing leaves in the air, their faces lit up with pure joy. Lily watched them intently from her spot in the wrap, her little fists waving as if she wanted to join in.

 As the sun began to dip lower, you brought everyone back inside just as Harry returned home. The kids’ voices filled the air with shouts of “Daddy!” as they ran to greet him.

“Hey, everyone!” Harry said, kneeling down to pull both boys into a hug. He listened patiently as James launched into a spirited retelling of his “fortress-building” mission, nodding with genuine admiration. Will shyly tugged on Harry’s sleeve, guiding him over to a small tower of blocks he’d built. Harry, with his usual attentiveness, listened to each of them in turn, offering an encouraging word or an affectionate squeeze of the hand.

You took the chance to prepare dinner, listening to their voices from the kitchen. Every so often, you glanced over to see Harry helping the boys with a new game or lifting Lily into his arms, making her giggle with delight. Seeing him with the children—so gentle and attentive—never failed to warm you, a reminder of all the qualities that had made you fall in love with him years ago.

Once dinner was ready, you all gathered around the table, laughter and conversation filling the air as you shared the day’s stories. James was still in “protector” mode, describing his “battle” against the “dark wizards” with great enthusiasm. Harry played along, nodding seriously as if every word was of the utmost importance.

After dinner, you led the boys upstairs, their footsteps pattering along the hardwood floor as they eagerly bounded toward the bathroom. Bath time was one of their favourite parts of the evening—a chance to wind down from the day, splash around, and fill the room with laughter.

In the bathroom, you filled the tub, the warm water quickly steaming up the small room. James, always the adventurous one, tossed his bath toys first—a few little boats, a rubber duck, and a miniature dragon he’d brought in as his “protector.” Will, more thoughtful and gentle, placed his toys in carefully, lining them up along the edge of the tub.

James was the first to hop in, splashing the water with a mischievous grin. “Look, Mum! I’m a sea monster!” he shouted, thrashing his arms around dramatically.

“Oh no, a sea monster! What are we going to do?” you teased, trying to shield yourself from the water that was already starting to splash over the sides.

Will, watching his brother, gave a small smile, then picked up the rubber duck and held it in front of James. “But there’s a hero duck to stop the sea monster!” he said, his quiet voice full of conviction.

“Ah! The hero duck!” James played along, pretending to dive underwater to escape the rubber duck’s “attack,” which set both of them giggling.

Meanwhile, Harry came in, carrying Lily in one arm. He chuckled at the sight of James, who had resurfaced dramatically with his best “monster face.” Harry gave a small laugh, bouncing Lily a bit to keep her entertained. “You sure you’re not scaring your sister, James?”

James grinned up at his father, his eyes bright. “She’s not scared of anything, Daddy! She’s like… the bravest baby ever!”

You chuckled, reaching out to pat his head. “Well, lucky for us, we’ve got plenty of brave protectors around here.”

After bath time, you dried Will off first, wrapping him in his favourite soft, fluffy towel. He snuggled close, looking up at you with sleepy eyes, clearly ready for the cosiness of bedtime. Whilst you took Will to his room, Harry stayed in the bathroom with James and Lily.

Carrying Will to his room, you felt his little arms wrap tighter around your neck, and he gave a contented sigh as you settled him into bed. As soon as he was under the covers, he scooted over to make room for you, his hand patting the bed invitingly.

“Mummy, will you tell me the story about the wise owl?” he asked, his voice a sleepy whisper as he clutched his favourite stuffed hippogriff.

You smiled and lay down beside him, tucking the blankets around him as you began. “Once upon a time, in the heart of a magical forest, there was an old, wise owl named Olwyn who knew all the secrets of the trees and stars…”

As you spoke, Will’s eyes grew wide, his little hand reaching for yours. You let him hold your fingers, his grip soft but firm, a gentle reminder of his trust in you. Every so often, he’d interrupt, asking in a hushed voice, “Did Olwyn really see the dragon?” or “What did the stars tell him?” You could see his love for stories blossoming, just as yours had as a child.

After a few more questions, his eyes finally started to droop, and he snuggled deeper under his blankets, still holding your hand. You stayed there, quietly humming a lullaby until his breathing grew slow and steady.

With a gentle kiss on his forehead, you whispered, “Sweet dreams, my wise little owl.” You slipped out of his room, softly closing the door, his peaceful face lingering in your mind as you made your way to James’ room.

James, of course, was still awake, lying under his covers but clearly wide-eyed and waiting. He shot you a grin the moment you entered.

“Mum! Can we talk about the Dragon Quest tonight?” he whispered excitedly, barely able to contain his enthusiasm.

You sat down beside him, returning his eager smile. “Of course! So, tell me, brave dragon-slayer, what’s the plan?”

James’ eyes sparkled as he launched into the details of his “mission” to rescue the golden scales and protect the kingdom. His hands waved in the air as he animatedly described how he’d outwit the goblins and cross the enchanted river without falling in.

Harry appeared in the doorway, catching the last of James’ “plans,” and leaned against the doorframe, chuckling. “Sounds like you’ve got it all figured out, Jamie,” he said, crossing over to ruffle his son’s hair.

James grinned up at his dad, pleased to have both of you there. “Daddy, maybe one day you can come with me! I could show you all the secret passages.”

“I’d be honoured,” Harry said with a smile, sitting on the edge of the bed beside you.

Together, the two of you listened as James drifted further into his fantasy world, his excitement mellowing as sleep began to pull him in. When his eyes finally grew heavy, you bent down to kiss his forehead.

“Goodnight, my brave knight,” you whispered, gently brushing a lock of hair from his face.

Finally, you returned to the nursery, where Lily was awake and waiting for her final feeding, her tiny hands reaching up the moment you stepped into the room. She gave a small, happy coo as you lifted her into your arms, already content with the warmth of your presence.

Settling into the rocking chair, you began to nurse her, her tiny fingers curling around yours as she looked up at you with wide, trusting eyes. Her soft, sleepy sounds filled the quiet room, and you rocked back and forth, humming softly as she fed, the peacefulness of the moment settling over both of you.

When she’d had her fill, you cradled her against your chest, feeling the gentle rise and fall of her breathing as she drifted to sleep. You lingered there, savouring the sweet scent of her hair, the warmth of her tiny body nestled close, until you knew she was completely asleep.

With the gentlest touch, you laid her down in her crib, brushing a tender kiss on her forehead. You stood by her crib for a moment, watching her sleep, feeling a quiet sense of awe at the love you felt for each of them and an overwhelming sense of gratitude for this life, this home, this family.

Once the kids were finally tucked in, you returned to the living room, feeling the soft, calming warmth that settled over the house. Harry was waiting on the couch, his eyes lighting up when he saw you. He opened his arms, inviting you to nestle beside him, and you sank into his embrace, letting out a sigh as you relaxed into his warmth.

Harry wrapped an arm around your shoulders, drawing you closer as you settled in. For a while, you both simply sat in comfortable silence, listening to the soft ticking of the clock and the occasional creak of the old cottage. His hand traced gentle circles along your back, the familiar, grounding touch melting away the last remnants of the day’s busyness.

“It’s quiet now,” he murmured, his voice low and soothing, with a smile that held a mix of exhaustion and contentment. “Almost feels strange, doesn’t it?”

You nodded, laughing softly. “Too quiet, but a good kind of quiet.”

Harry tilted his head, giving you that affectionate look that always made your heart skip a beat. “You were amazing today,” he said, his voice sincere. “With all of them. They’re so lucky to have you.”

You looked up, catching his gaze. “We’re both lucky, Harry. I couldn’t do any of it without you.”

He leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering there for a long, tender moment. Then he pulled back slightly, his green eyes soft and searching as they met yours.

“Remember when we used to talk about this?” he asked quietly, his hand finding yours and entwining your fingers together. “All those late nights, dreaming of what life would be like. Never thought it’d be… this perfect, though.”

You gave his hand a squeeze, feeling a swell of emotion as you thought back to those conversations, those shared dreams. “We really did talk about it all, didn’t we?” You smiled, remembering the wonder you both felt at imagining a life so full, yet so simple and grounded in love.

For a while, you both reminisced, sharing soft laughs and whispered stories, the little moments you’d almost forgotten. Harry shifted slightly, reaching to pull a blanket over the both of you, settling it around your shoulders and pulling you closer.

Eventually, his hand moved to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing a tender line along your jaw as he looked at you with that deep, quiet intensity that always seemed to reach right into your heart. “I love you,” he said, his voice barely more than a whisper.

Before you could respond, he leaned in, his lips meeting yours in a slow, tender kiss. There was no rush, just a quiet passion, a warmth that spoke of all the love and history you’d built together. His fingers moved gently through your hair, cradling your head as he deepened the kiss, pulling you closer as if to savour every second.

When you finally pulled back, your foreheads resting together, you felt the steady beat of his heart beneath your hand. His thumb traced gentle circles along the back of your hand, and you felt entirely wrapped up in him, in the shared closeness of the moment.

Harry brushed a few stray hairs back from your face, his hand resting lightly on your shoulder as he looked at you, a soft smile playing at his lips. “What would we do without these little moments?” he murmured, his voice warm and filled with a kind of wonder.

“Get a little more sleep, probably,” you teased, a playful grin spreading across your face.

He chuckled, shaking his head. “Maybe. But I wouldn’t trade it. Not for anything.”

After a few quiet moments of gentle conversation, you both grew quiet again, simply resting in each other’s arms. His fingers traced gentle patterns along your shoulder, your breaths settling into an easy, shared rhythm as you let the peacefulness wash over you.

Finally, he scooped you into his arms, lifting you as he stood, and with a smile, he carried you to bed, where you nestled under the covers together. With his arms wrapped securely around you and your head resting on his chest, you drifted off to sleep, feeling a deep, contented love that only seemed to grow with every shared moment.

back to my harry potter masterlist

[yaymiyas]

ISEKAI!YANDERE!CROWN PRINCE INTRODUCTION

warning: female reader, his name is saer…just so you can follow a bit lol, isekai lol

a/n: it’s structured a bit differently than my other introductions, do note that yes this is x reader but you had gotten isekai’d into a novel so….i do say her name but…..you’re also you…..if that makes sense, also he is hardly in it but its like….an introduction to the story bc its…an isekai and i needed to layout how i wanted everything to be

its not like you didn’t realize something was up. bright white lights blind you right when you open your eyes. maids coming in and out, calling you ‘miss’ and telling you not to sit up because ‘it will harm you even more’. granted, you were very thankful for their words because, around ten minutes before they came in, you attempted to sit up and gave yourself a headache. even though nobody was explaining anything, you remained quiet, trying to gather as much information from the surrounding maids as possible. the red-haired one with tight curls and an everlasting smile was amanda. she seemed to like you much, more than the other two, and tended to you more carefully. maybe she was your personal maid,or maybe she was just good at her job, but she never let up and called you your ‘name’.

admittedly, none of the other two maids called you your ‘name’ either. it was all just ma’am or miss from them. you just expected a hint of your identity from amanda, based solely on her care for you. selfish? maybe but you needed more hints. the other maids are named cynthia and tilly. the former of the two had long black hair slicked into a low bun, with a small maids hair on top to finish the look. it was a cute detail, if you must say, since the other two didn’t wear them. cynthia hardly spoke above a shout, coming off as more soft-spoken than the other two. she wasn’t really rude, nor did she have an attitude while tending to you, but she wore an expression of indifference that made you think she would rather do anything else.

tilly, on the other hand, was more bold than the other two. still not outwardly rude, but she tested your patience a few times. the main one that got to you though, was when she was rubbing your face. while she was washing off your face with the washcloth, she rubbed against your cheeks too hard, and upon this ‘realization’ she gave you a malevolent grin. her thin lips formed an o shape, mimicking the action of saying ‘oops’. luckily, it seemed as if amanda and cynthia didn’t really care for this ‘prank’ of hers. they both scoffed in disgust, continuing to pick out outfits for me to wear for the day ahead.

a soft but stern knock was heard at the door, revealing a man with black slick back hair and yellow eyes to put the look all together. he reminded you of those webtoon male leads that were cold but female audiences loved. being a sucker for those types, you raised your neck up, making sure to keep your body in the same supine position. the man standing at the foot of your bed looked down at you with an expression that you couldn’t read. an expression that wasn’t scary but wasnt welcoming. tapping along the footboard of the bed, he let out a low sigh out that resembled a growl and turned around to leave. tilly, amanda, and cynthia didn’t acknowledge the man. neither did he to them. the only thing that could resemble an interaction between the four of them was when tilly and amanda gave small bows and the slight side eye cynthia gave before going back inside your closet to look for something.

“madam,”

thats a new one.

“lord saer would like you to have breakfast with him today.”

lifting your head enough to turn your focus towards amanda, you started to guess your facial expression was a bit too expressive because amanda started to giggle. the pain in your body wasn’t really high; it was more the numbness that bothered you. moving your neck and head didn’t really take much strength, it was attempting to move your legs that was the problem. walking towards you in a shift movement, amanda placed the rich, deep purple hair piece down on top of the dress set she had picked out for you. upon arrival, she softly removed your blanket and shifted your body into a sitting position. you felt like a doll.

“okay now miss, i will be lifting you up to wash you now.”

placing her right arm underneath the backs of your knees and her left arm supporting your neck, she quickly moved you to the area you’re assuming was the bathroom. the door to the large room was already open, since once she had lifted you up, cynthia had pushed the door open and walked in herself. the room was massive, twice the size of a normal person’s kitchen. the walls and floor tiles were both the same shade of pale pink, matching the sleeping set you had on. amanda sat you down in a chair and started to strip you down. while she was doing that, the other was running the bath water and testing if it was safe enough. every time the water was a bit too hot or too cold, you saw cynthia’s eyes squeeze shut.

“alright madam edina,”

cynthia sighed, standing up from the clam shaped tub.

“it’s all set for you. please do not make it hard as you have always done.”

not sparing you even a small look, she and amanda were already picking you up and guiding you into the tub. quietly instructing you to lay back, wet, cold liquid found its way both on your scalp and on your legs. edina? are you sure thats what she said? the only edina you knew of was the villainess from the hit novel “obsession falls”. you never really read the book, but you knew of the characters and the content that surrounded it. it was rather controversial for how obsessive and dangerous the male lead was. he had stalked the female lead for years, and it didn’t stop once he got married. with a wife so dismissive and uninterested, the male lead was given all the time in the world to go hunt his prey.

unfortunately for him, once edina randomly started to care about what her husband was doing during the day he had to slowly stop. losing the love of his life to the second male lead, alastair. due to this very random string of events, saer had grown irritated by the events his wife was clumsily stringing together. he then decided to take care of his wife, edina. the night before he was to go and kill alastair, he had poisoned the dinner he had helped make for his wife. from your memory, this was one of the few times in years he had asked his wife to sit at the table and eat with him. she would usually just take her food into her room separately. this night, edina came into the dining room with her most expensive jewelry and dress. she thought this was the night her husband was going to admit his faults and leave the female lead for her. however, what actually ended up happening was that the moment she took a bite out of her steak, her vision went black and her head banged on the table.

focusing on the soft brushes of your hair, you start to put the pieces together. you don’t remember the faces of any of the characters in the story, you just remember the basic blot and conflict. if what cynthia said was true, that you are in fact edina tudor gwynn then that means the reasoning for your stiff body was because of your ‘husband’ trying to kill you. sharply sucking in some air, you seek strength within your legs. even though the lower half of your body was still partially numbed, the feeling of pins and needles filled the tip of your toes to the back of your knees. not wanting to cause much of a scene, even though you were sure she wouldn’t care much, you looked up to check to see if your maid was paying you any mind. cynthia was too focused on rinsing your body, while amanda stopped brushing your hair to grab towels for you.

“cynthia,”

it was amazing how you could even get that out. due to the affects of the poison, your throat had become overly dry and it hurt you to even swallow. that was mainly one of the reasons as to why you hardly spoke to them this morning. stopping in her tracks, she lazily turned her head into your direction. the woman didn’t have much of any emotion on her face. her eyelids halfway down, making it appear that she was tired or just bored. her lips were in a thin line. you had hardly seen her smile or really speak, so you started to believe this was just how her resting face looked like.

“why did he poison me?”

tilting her head a bit, cynthia’s facial expression changed. it was as if your question intrigued her. her low eyelids raised a bit, along side her eyebrows, as she tried to tame the smile that was creeping on her thin lips. this was the most expressive you have ever seen her. she began to part her lips when amanda came back through the door with the towels.

“perhaps this conversation will need to be revisited, my lady.”