#most expensive perfume for men | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

wandasaura · 11 months ago

Text

LOVELORN AND NOBODY KNOWS

summary — your relationship with natasha is not as black and white as it seems, but you’re in no rush to figure out the logistics of it. when she leaves for a business trip, wanda is your only source of comfort, but you hate her… right?

warning(s) — established relationship, married wandanat, dom/sub dynamics, playful banter between three idiots, somnophilia, edging, praise, begging, teasing, oral, fingering, semi-clothed sex, finger sucking, bratty reader, a fuck ton of domestic shenanigans, copious amounts of fluff, essentially hurt/comfort, mentions of anxiety & panic attacks, mommy wanda 101, so much softness, men/minors dni

authors note — this is actually such a wild ride, and i shamelessly got the slightest bit carried away, but hey, we’re making progress in the wanda x reader department!

you are in love universe

♥️⊹ ˚ . 18+, men/minors dni ⁺ 𓈒 ꒰💌꒱ ♡ ･ mommy maximoff ✧

You saw Natasha at least three times a week, she made sure of it when she could. Sometimes, you were lucky enough to see her every day in some capacity, other times her business kept you apart for an entire week if not longer. Your favorite days were the ones where she’d stop by your dorm room for a quick lunch break. She’d bring your favorite meal and a bouquet of vibrant flowers, and it gave you a taste of what an authentic relationship with her would look like. You never forgot about Wanda. Never forgot that she was already married and had her wife’s explicit permission to be seeing you, but it was nice to pretend anyway. It probably wasn’t the best idea to have a crush on your employer, even if your arrangement was anything but practical, but even still, you should not be crushing hard on the woman who pays you for a fuck.

You’d seen Natasha four times this week and it was only Wednesday. She’d stopped by your dorm room for lunch on Monday afternoon, holding onto a takeout bag from your favorite Italian restaurant, a bouquet of wildflowers neatly arranged in a tall and elegant vase, and one of her old Avengers University hoodies that had been meticulously sprayed down with her expensive perfume. On Tuesday, you ran into her at your favorite coffee shop where she subsequently stopped you from ordering a triple shot espresso in exchange for an ice water. You’d wanted to be mad, wanted to tell her that you were a big girl and you needed the extra caffeine to survive the long day of studying ahead, but when you’d even thought about challenging her, one look into her green eyes had you melting into the submissive partner she expected you to be. Sometimes you hated how easily she could break your strength without even trying, but you knew that was the biggest lie you've ever told yourself. You adore the control she has over you, you allow her to have that control, but sometimes you just wanted her to remind you of that. She did later that evening when you’d gone to the Maximoff’s residence for dinner. On Wednesday morning, you woke up with a soft ache between your thighs and the remnants of her touch in the form of scattered bruising across your chest.

Every Wednesday night since you’d signed the contract to be Natasha Maximoff’s sugar baby, you had gone over to the Maximoff residence for a movie night and pizza. There was never a promise of anything sexual happening, but sometimes you just couldn’t help yourself and Natasha would fuck you right there on the couch if you asked nice enough. Wanda wasn’t always a participant in your film marathons. She worked in the office a significant amount more than Natasha did, claiming she liked the fast paced environment more than the peaceful quiet of the house, and her late hours kept her away from you most Wednesday nights. For that you were beyond grateful, but you didn’t always get so lucky.

Tonight was one of those nights where Wanda had retired from the office earlier than usual, and was already on the couch with a half finished glass of wine before you’d even shown up at seven. The key you kept on your lanyard was practically useless on Wednesdays. If the door wasn’t already unlocked prior to your arrival, Natasha was sprinting to open it before you could even attempt to do it yourself. The gesture made you blush a ferocious shade of red each time, and you wondered if she sat by the window and watched you drive up just so she could fluster you, but you’d never get that answer out of her no matter how prettily you begged. Some secrets were kept tightly underwraps, even if they were merely forged in amusement. You’ve come to learn that Natasha Maximoff loves secrets, even if they made both yours and Wanda’s skin crawl.

“How were classes, milyy?” Natasha asked sweetly, pressing a soft kiss to your lips in the doorway of the house, not yet letting you enter fully. The warmer days of Spring had finally settled over top of the small New Jersey shore town she and Wanda lived within, and the lick of heat that encased your body was particularly pleasant tonight. Dressed in only a pair of soft pajama shorts and her recently gifted hoodie, you didn’t mind standing outside for as long as she wanted, the moonlight reflecting off of her eyes created its own endless galaxy that you had the pleasure of getting lost in. You’d hate to shuffle inside and lose sight of it.

“Tiring.” You hummed, leaning into her gentle touch when her calloused palms reached out to cup your cheeks. Your answer sets the mood for the evening even without meaning to, but you don’t mind what you’re getting yourself into. Natasha is always particularly attentive and soft with you if you tell her that you’ve had a long day, and secretly, you’ve been anticipating her coddling since your second lecture that afternoon. “It’s almost done, I just keep telling myself that.”

“And then you’re mine for an entire summer. Think you can manage six more weeks before I steal you away?” She asked softly, already having a plethora of ideas for how she’d ask you to spend your break. You practically lived at the Maximoff residence during the semester, she couldn’t imagine three full months of your undivided attention and company. It was sure to be bliss.

“Or I can drop out and we can start early.” You suggested, though it was merely a fabrication of your need for calm rather than any actual intentions of dropping out. You adored your academics, as demanding as they were, you were just reaching a critical episode of burnout. “Never let me overload again. I think my cerebrum is malfunctioning.”

“That’s a big word for such a little girl.” Wanda’s voice quipped from deeper into the house, a playful edge to her tone but you were in no mood for jokes, especially not from her. You scowled with the knowledge that you wouldn’t even get a handful of hours alone with Natasha now, whining pitifully into the chest of your dominant. Sometimes you wished you could call her more than that, but you’d settle for anything if it meant calling her yours.

“Be nice, she’s just teasing.” Natasha rewarded you with a gentle kiss, her cold fingers tilting your chin upward until she had your lips perfectly available. You tasted like coffee, and her brows furrowed at the realization that not long ago, probably not even a full half hour ago, you’d consumed caffeine. She always worried about you getting enough sleep at night, and the repercussions of caffeine on days when your anxiety was particularly brutal, but you never listened to her. “How many coffee’s have you had today, milyy?”

“Please don’t punish me.” You sighed in regret, melting against her chest and forcing her arms to wrap around your waist and support the majority of your weight, the front door still open and allowing the valued cold air that Wanda paid a pretty penny for to slip out into the streets of Westview. “I just needed something to get me through class, and I didn’t want to fall asleep on you ten minutes into a movie so I stopped on the way here. I didn’t even finish it, promise, it’s still half-full in the car. You’re leaving tomorrow. I just wanted to see you.”

Your nervous rambling was enough to indicate that your head was swimming in thoughts that made no real sense. Truthfully you knew that Natasha wouldn’t punish you for your caffeine intake. She’d be worried, she’d make you drink enough water to refill the ocean if it somehow managed to evaporate, but she wouldn’t punish you. Her consideration for your wellbeing did not warrant a physical punishment for choices you made as a grown adult, even if they concerned her.

“Is that what this is about?” Natasha quizzed, looking down at you with a fondness in her eyes that made your cheeks flush a shade of pink only she had ever been able to create. When you nodded sadly, still not willing to let go of her waist, the lawyer huffed out a mixture of laughter that was somehow both saddened and amused. “It’s only two weeks, milyy. Fourteen days. How many hours is that?” She asked softly, knowing that you knew the answer. When you had first learned of her inescapable business trip to the Bahamas, which honestly sounded more like a dream than an obligation, you’d gone on a rampage. You’d listed off the number of days and hours and seconds that you’d be apart. You’d pleaded with her not to leave you for so long, and as embarrassed as you felt once you’d sobered up from your state of panic, the fact still remained that you were dreading the time apart. Yeah, Natasha was definitely more than just your contractual dominant, but neither one of you had braved a conversation regarding what the true extent of your relationship was.

“Three hundred and thirty six. That’s over twenty thousand minutes, Natty.” You whispered into her chest so softly that the howling wind almost drowned you out, but still Natasha heard you and tightened her hold around your midsection, not caring about how warm the house became as a result of the still open front door. She’d melt into a puddle if it meant easing your mind, and Wanda, despite her tendency to poke fun at you, didn’t mind either.

“You’ll be okay. I have a surprise for you, but I think we need to get some food into this belly and some water into you before we do any of that.” Natasha smoothed the wild flyaways away from your face, cradling your cheeks sweetly and tenderly, almost as if she was afraid if she touched you too hard you’d crumble on her front porch.

At the mention of a surprise, your attention peaked, and you tried to peer around her body for any indication of what it was that she had. “Now?” You tried to convince her, a lively spark coming back to your eyes. You always loved her surprises. They weren’t all material, and the ones that were didn’t always make your bank account hurt at the mere thought of how much she’d spent on you. Sometimes a surprise meant that she’d take you out for a walk and bring you to her favorite bench by the shore, sometimes it meant she’d found little canvases to paint and had set up a makeshift studio in her office. Sometimes it meant that she had new toys to test and outfits to wear. You never knew what she had up her sleeve, but you adored her efforts nonetheless.

Natasha laughed at your eagerness, glad that you had come back to yourself if only for a couple of minutes, but shook her head to decline your temptations. “Not now. Come on, inside, baby.” She guided you further into the house, finally closing the heavy front door when you were far enough inside to not be nicked by the latch. She’d made the mistake once, and you hadn’t let her forget about it since. She was so excited about your company that she’d more or less attempted to close the front door on your body, and while she’d apologized profusely, you’d just taken the bait and been able to call her the impatient one for once.

“Hi Wanda.” You mumbled out pleasantries, knowing that it would make Natasha happy even if you just wanted to ignore the other CEO in the room. The woman was curled up into the corner of the couch, far away from the spot you and Natasha typically occupied during movie nights. Briefly you wondered if she’d done it on purpose, or if that was just the spot she liked to sit in.

“Hi, darling.” She returned the greeting, though it was significantly warmer than yours. Natasha praised you for your efforts either way, running her cold hands up and down your thighs as she came to stand directly behind you, her chin resting on the crown of your head in the way you despised when anyone else tried to do that same. She was only two or so inches taller than you, but she made up for it in dominance, and it was no help that you shrunk in on yourself whenever she was around.

“Go sit with Wanda, baby. I’ll bring you out some pizza.” Natasha left a kiss on the side of your head before she pulled away from you entirely and gave you an encouraging shove toward the couch. You pouted not only because of her asking you to keep Wanda company, but because the last thing you wanted was to leave her company after just entering it.

Wanda laughed at your expression, patting the soft silk cushions of the couch invitingly. You adored their couch. You had made it known on multiple occasions when you all but refused to move into a bed at the end of the night, but something about being left alone with Wanda made even the softest seat feel daunting and scary. “I don’t bite, detka.” Wanda laughed, watching you pleadingly stare at Natasha who promptly ignored the burn of your eyes on her back as she disappeared into the kitchen. Her auburn hair looked like pure fire as she slipped into the brighter lit room, the overhead lights casting spells on her appearance. “She’ll be right back, there’s no need to pout.”

You huffed at Wanda’s unwillingness to appease your sadness, but shuffled on your feet until you were close enough to the couch to plop down in the way she hated. The cushion sank beneath your weight and the back of the couch welcomed your presence without any additional need to wiggle around and get comfortable, and as much as it felt like a warm hug, your skin crawled being so close to Wanda without Natasha around to mediate.

“Don’t be a brat, darling. It’s only for a couple of minutes.” Wanda’s scold wasn’t necessarily cold, but it was still laced with dominance that you couldn’t ignore. You huffed, pouting deeper, grabbing fistfulls of the hoodie’s sleeves and holding them over your trembling fingers. Wanda’s reserve melted as she picked up the subtle tells of anxiety, and that indistinguishable gleam reappeared in her eyes that were green like Natasha’s but so so different and unique. “You still have all of tonight. There’s no need for the tears right now, angel. Tomorrow, you can cry all you want, but enjoy what you have in the moment. Can you do that, detka?”

“I don’t want her to leave.” You mumbled, nervously bringing the cuff of Natasha’s sleeve up to your mouth and chewing on it. Wanda had seen Natasha reprimand you for the action, she herself had reprimanded you for the action, but you looked far too nervous to scold right now, so she let you be. You didn’t know what had come over you. Never would you admit such silly feelings to Wanda, but you figured she would understand your thoughts. Natasha was nothing to you but a piece of paper, even if you didn’t believe that it was still the truth, but Wanda was her wife, and she had every reason to hate this trip more than you did.

Not making a sarcastic remark like you’d half-expected her to, Wanda merely shrugged sadly and took another long sip of her red. You hated red wine, but the lawyer beside you found it particularly comforting for reasons you’d never asked about. “I don’t want her to go either, but she has to. A long time ago we stopped getting upset about what’s best for our business. It doesn’t do either of us any good if we work ourselves up about the inevitable. She’s come back before, hasn’t she?”

“Yeah, but– but she’s never been gone this long, and– and, I don’t know.” You shrugged, your words practically incoherent with the thick material still between your teeth, but Wanda had understood you perfectly.

“I think you do know, but you don’t want to tell me, and that’s okay. It’s okay to need her, malysh. She does a lot for you, yes? More than just providing orgasms like you’d thought you’d be getting into.” There was a hint of a teasing in Wanda’s tone, and her words caused a blush to spread across your cheeks at the implication of her knowing about your most intimate moments. Of course she knew. She’d seen you cum on Natasha’s strap and her fingers, on her thigh and on her tongue, in her bed and on her couch and her dining room table, but still you found ways to be shy about the topic after nearly a year.

“Shut up.” You mumbled through your mortification, wanting desperately to hide your face and scrub this conversation from your memory. Your cerebrum may be failing in an intellectual sense, but it was working just fine now and you hated to admit that talking about orgasms with Wanda made you needy.

Wanda laughed at your embarrassment, setting her wine glass down on the coffee table in front of her, her ringed fingers sparkling in the dim lighting of the room. The diamonds on her left hand were particularly blinding, and once again you remembered what you were to them and what Natasha wasn’t to you.

“Natasha is just as upset about leaving you. She knows this is a stressful time, or did you forget we both went through eight years of law school?” Wanda quirked a perfectly sculpted brow in your direction, her green stare unwavering, and honestly, you had forgotten that they’d been in your shoes once, even if it was years ago now. Your silence was enough of an answer for Wanda whose lips curled upward into her signature smirk of amusement. “I think you’ll like the surprise.”

“You know what it is?” Your head whipped in her direction, and no longer did you avoid looking into her eyes. Your excitement was back, and desperately you bounced on the couch and pulled the sleeve away from your mouth. “What is it?”

“What kind of secret would it be if I gave it up so easily? You should know better than that, little one.” Wanda laughed, curling her legs further beneath her as she readjusted on the couch, not missing your immediate pout at her unwillingness to even give you a hint. “You will find out soon.”

“I wanna find out now.” You huffed, throwing yourself back into the couch and crossing your arms over your chest. You wouldn’t beg with Wanda, no you still had enough self control to restrain from stopping to such low levels, but maybe you could work Natasha and get her to cave before she made you sit through an entire movie still not knowing.

“Are you still pouting about the surprise?” The voice of your dominant hadn’t been expected, and you lurched forward on the couch in a desperate attempt to please her. Both women laughed at your stick-straight posture and firmly planted feet, but only one of them leaned forward to kiss your head and for that you were grateful.

“Yes!” You huffed, throwing your arms out toward your sides in exasperation, narrowly avoiding hitting Natasha in the face as she leaned down to place three plates of pizza on the coffee table. You’d never understand how she could balance so many things at once, but when you’d asked once, she’d just laughed and told you she was a skilled spy in another life. “Please, Natty? I want to know! Wanda knows! You know! I’m the only one who doesn’t know!”

“That’s because A, Wanda lives here, and B, the surprise is for you. Do I need to remind you of the definition of a surprise, or is your brain working enough to remind yourself.” She taunted, not yet moving to sit down on the couch and collect you into her embrace, and it was then you realized that she still needed to go and collect the waters from the kitchen. “Eat. If half of that slice is gone by time I get back, maybe I’ll throw you a bone.”

Wanda laughed at your deep frown, but she made no other comments that would’ve gotten you into hot water with Natasha when you inevitably quipped back at her. You aggressively grabbed the slice from the plate, biting off more than you could comfortably chew just as a means of expressing your annoyance.

“Somebody’s fussy.” Natasha merely commented, and you sighed knowing she was right. She was always right, but it never made the pill any easier to swallow when she called you out. “How much sleep did you get last night?” She quizzed, and once again it felt like you were under interrogation as she looked up into her eyes and simultaneously felt Wanda’s gaze on the back of your head.

“How many hours will you consider a reasonable amount?” You tried to wiggle your way out of trouble, but Natasha was unwilling to budge as she placed her hands on her hips. “Two.” You eventually admitted. “And I had four coffees. I never answered that question. But it wasn’t my fault, honest, Natty!”

“And how would that not be your fault?” Natasha played your game, even if she so desperately wanted to march your ass up the stairs and make you go to bed right then and there.

“I had to cover for my group partners for a stupid project that’s literally worth half of our grade! I don’t know how those fucking idiots have even made it this far without being kicked out. I’ve been reaching out to them all semester, but I couldn’t wait to finish it any more. It’s due next week and every time I emailed the professor she just told me to wait a little longer because I still had time before it was due. I left them parts to do so that they could get some credit at least, that was a fucking mistake.” You seethed, your jaw locked as you recounted the events of last night that had definitely ended with you crying yourself to sleep out of sheer frustration.

“Detka.” Surprisingly, it was Wanda’s voice that called out to you, and you turned to face her with unbridled tears in your eyes. “You are not responsible for the academics of others who do not wish to put in the same amount of effort as you. It was very nice that you tried to save their asses, but if I hear that you sacrificed your own wellbeing again, you will have to deal with me. Not Natasha, and not your professors. Is that understood?”

You knew that Wanda could punish you if she really wanted to. Natasha had made that clear when you’d been filling out the contract. As much as you were only her submissive, you’d agreed to her proposition of letting Wanda deal with you if she saw fit, and clearly, this was an instance where both of them agreed because Natasha didn’t offer a single defense in your favor. Wanda had never threatened to punish you, not seriously at least, it was more or less just banter between two dominants who sought out different things in a submissive, but now she was beyond serious and your cheeks flushed at the scolding. Your typical snarky response attitude fell away in an instance, leaving only a pliant submissive in the place where sarcasm usually filled. You tested Wanda. You pushed her buttons and bit back at her when she dangled bait in front of your face, but it was always Wanda that you fought with, the woman Natasha married, not the dominant you knew that she was both inside and outside of the bedroom. You had enough respect for her to address her with obedience now, even if you tried to tell yourself you hated her guts.

“Yes, ma’am.” You whispered, dropping your gaze to your trembling hands in your lap. “I only tried to help them. My professor kept telling me everything was okay.”

“Your professor is an idiot, and if she doesn’t fail your partners when you tell her that they did nothing to help you, which you will tell her next time you have class, I will deal with her myself. Is that understood, little one?” Wanda’s hand reached out to capture your chin, and although you wanted to flinch away from her touch, scared that it would burn you if that was at all possible, you allowed her to redirect your stare until you were looking into her worried and angered eyes.

“Yes.” You deflated, hating that your peaceful evening had turned into this. “Can we just drop it? Please? I don’t want to talk about school.”

“You’ve had a long couple of days, haven’t you?” Natasha cooed sweetly, understanding what you needed even if you hadn’t explicitly asked for it. You wanted to shut your brain off and just surrender yourself to her. You wanted her to take control, you wanted her to make the decisions, and she was more than happy to comply with that request.

“The longest.” You sighed out, leaning into her touch when she reached a hand out and gently cradled your face. “I didn’t want to be naughty. I didn’t think I was being naughty.”

“I never laid out academic expectations, you have no reason to feel guilty about breaking a rule you didn’t know existed. You know now, and will you do it again?” Natasha asked softly, getting down on her knees in front of you and softly wiping the pads of her thumbs against your cheeks, wiping away tears that hadn’t yet fallen.

“No.” You shook your head, an admission that you couldn’t stop from forming on the tip of your tongue. “Wanda’s scary.”

Natasha laughed at your statement, but she nodded her head softly, not disagreeing with you. She had been on the receiving end of Wanda’s scolding one too many times, and she knew just how threatening it could be. If you thought she was scary now, when she was admittedly being very soft and patient with you, Natasha knew you’d be a gonner the second you actually did anything to piss her off. “She is pretty scary, huh? But it’s only because she cares about you, even though you like to act like a little brat whenever she’s around. You’re a cute brat.”

“Natalia.” Wanda’s sharp tone caught both of your attention, and subconsciously you leaned in closer to Natasha as if she could protect you from her wife. “Do not encourage her.”

Natasha cracked a small goofy smile that had you giggling, your guilt and upset long forgotten as you leaned forward to kiss her nose the same way she did to you. “Eat your pizza, baby. I’ll show you the surprise after, okay?”

“Okay.” You agreed, letting her stand and retreat back to the kitchen to collect the water she would undeniably make you drink entirely. “I’m a cute brat.” You looked back at Wanda, repeating Natasha’s words that would definitely get you in trouble at a later date, but for tonight, Wanda allowed you to feel content with the admission, not wanting to see any more tears in your eyes. She would never tell you, but seeing you upset broke her heart just as much as it did when she saw Natasha upset.

“I am not above spanking a cute brats ass until it’s sore for a week, but yes, you are a very cute brat.” Wanda laughed, not missing the way your eyes bulged out of your head and you quickly distracted yourself with another bite of pizza.

When pizza was eaten and a significant amount of water was drunk, Natasha kept her promise of showing you to your surprise. Wanda didn’t trail along with you, more than content to let you have a moment alone with the woman you would miss unbearably by this time tomorrow. You held onto Natasha’s hand as she guided you down the upstairs hallway, practically bouncing on your toes as she took her sweet time.

“Why are we going in here? It’s empty.” You frowned when Natasha abruptly stopped walking and instead stood still in front of the third door on the left; the last door on this side of the hallway. The first two doors led to rooms you knew well, although Wanda’s office was significantly less explored then Natasha’s, you’d still been in there a handful of times when your dominant asked you to place some paperwork on her desk.

“Finals are coming up, and I know you hate working in the library because college kids don’t know the definition of quiet.” Natasha began, her hand not yet reaching for the gold doorknob. The suspense was killing you, and she seemed to take great pleasure in that fact. “I thought you would like to have a space where you can come and do your work, or just decompress if you need to. Well, it was actually Wanda’s idea, but she thought you’d hate it if she knew it was her suggestion, so don’t tell her I told you.”

“My lips are sealed.” You giggled, keeping your voice low and hushed, though you were absolutely certain Wanda could hear the both of you perfectly clear despite your mutual efforts to be sneaky. The woman had a strange sixth sense for knowing when you and Natasha were causing trouble, but this time it was at least a good trouble.

“You have your key. I want you to use it when I’m gone, even if Wanda’s home and you think she won’t want to see you. This might not be your home, but you are welcome at all hours of the day and night.” Natasha kissed the side of your head gently before she reached out for the doorknob and gently led you inside, flicking on the lights when both of you were inside of the room.

The plain white walls that you were used to were now adorned in all kinds of photographs and prints. Some of the pieces displayed were photographs of you and Natasha that you didn’t even know existed, but some were posters of your favorite places and artists that only someone who paid careful attention would know. You’d droned on and on about Scotland and Moscow one night with Natasha, and you hadn’t expected her to really be listening, nor remember the exact locations mentioned, but the scenic photographs of your favorite towns and cities proved that she had been and that she did. There were little knick knacks and trinkets on the bookshelf toward the back of the room, and your eyes quickly spotted a figurine of a whimsical fairy placed right beside your favorite children's book that brought you comfort on long days. There was greenery in almost every corner of the room. A succulent sitting on your desk with prickly beige spikes adorning its thickest section. You giggled at the pot of choice, approaching it slowly as if you weren’t allowed to touch it. The entire room was magnificent and so perfectly you, you didn’t even know how to express your gratitude.

“This is amazing, Nat.” You breathed out in wonder, sweeping the tips of your fingers along the potted cactus. The pot was a nude color, notably the same shade of pale as Natasha’s skin in the wintertime, and the painted nipples on the pot were comically small and pink. You knew that she’d been the one to pick out that pot, and you could almost imagine Wanda’s exasperation when she’d been shown it. “How much of a fuss did Wanda put up about the pot?” You giggled.

“Oh she made me cook dinner for three days after that purchase. Something about me being ‘incredibly childish and needing to learn how an adult acts’. I know she likes it though. There’s a matching one in our bathroom.” Natasha’s smirk was smug, and you desperately wanted to kiss it off her face, but you were frozen in place when you realized there was a desktop computer sitting in the middle of your desk that was identical to the one in both her and Wanda’s office.

“Nat, you didn’t need to do this. This must have cost you a fortune.” Tears brimmed your eyes, but unlike before, they weren’t in the slightest bit sad. You crashed into her chest with a force that threatened to knock her on her ass, but she had maintained upright and had reciprocated the embrace with a tightness that only reminded you about her upcoming departure. “I’m going to miss you so much.”

“Hey, look at me, angel.” Natasha gently guided your eyes to meet hers, and you were shocked to find that they were just as glassy as your own. Maybe Wanda was telling you the truth when she said Natasha was just as upset about the business trip as you are. “I’ll be back in three hundred and thirty six hours, and then I’m not leaving for the rest of summer. You have me for three full months, can you be my strong girl for two weeks?”

“Only if you promise that you won't have any fun while you’re gone. And that you’ll drink a pina colada for me, straight out of a coconut, with a pink bendy straw and a little umbrella.” Natasha laughed at your petulant proposition, but she extended her pinky finger in the same childish fashion.

“I pinky promise I won’t have any fun. It’ll be impossible to have any fun without you, detka.” She whispered, leaning forward to brush her lips against your forehead. “And I pinky promise to drink a pina colada straight out of a coconut with a pink bendy straw and a little umbrella just for you.”

“I can be your strong girl then.” You wrapped your pinky around hers, pulling your entangled fingers close to kiss them softly and lock in the promise. “I wish you didn’t have to leave.”

“I wish I didn’t have to leave either, but it’s my turn to be the big scary boss lady. And, you’ll have this space to come to if you miss me. There might be a couple of other surprises laying around, but I want you to find them in your own time, okay?”

“No super sneaky peeking around.” You agreed, cracking a genuine smile up at her. “Can we go watch the movie now? Wanda hasn’t complained about seeing Cars in a while.”

“Are you ever going to let her have a moment of peace?” Natasha laughed at your cheeky expression, smoothing it down with a lingering kiss that was nothing but sweet.

“Absolutely not.” You giggled, already peeling away from her body and making a mad dash down the stairs and toward the living room, knowing that she’d be right behind you.

A fire in your lower belly is the sensation that eventually pulls you from sleep, though the blinding presence of morning sunshine is a close second. It takes only three seconds for you to realize that your hips are pinned to the soft mattress beneath your weight, incapacitating you from attempting to stretch like a newborn kitten, it takes you a further three seconds to realize that the fire in your core was not a result of a wet dream you couldn’t remember, but rather Natasha’s tongue and fingers as she worked you open.

You gasped at a particularly harsh thrust, her fingers curling into your pussy with a vengeance, seeking out that soft spot within your walls that made your eyes roll each and every time she abused it. If you weren’t so disoriented from sleep, you would’ve had the decency to feel embarrassed about the wet squelching sounds that Natasha draws from your cunt every time she snaps her wrist back toward your mound, but there's no time to think about how desperate your body is for her touch even when asleep.

“Daddy!” You cry out, your back arching off the bed, attempting to push yourself closer to her face and seek out a deeper pressure on your clit that's being worked over with practiced ease. You briefly wonder how long she’s been between your legs, but it's not a thought that stays longer than a fleeting single second before you're being distracted by her nails digging into your thigh wit the hand thats not fucking your desperate hole. “Please! Fuck!”

Natasha moans against your pussy, and it’s only when you raise your head to see her clearly that you realize that there's a vibrator clenched between her own naked thighs and she’s actively chasing her own high, her hips rocking against the bulbous head of the purple toy you have a love-hate relationship with. Your fingers reach down to grab at her auburn hair, pulling her closer to where you need her most, begging her to fix the mess that she single-handedly created.

You can feel the coil growing in your stomach, getting tighter and tighter with each pass of her tongue against your throbbing clit. You come undone so quickly for her, there’s no telling if she’s been between your thighs for mere minutes or entire hours, but the sensation of sunlight against your face tells you that it’s at least ten in the morning, and Natasha’s an early riser, so you know that if anything, she’s been edging you for at least an hour so successfully that you hadn’t even stirred.

Her lips pull away from your clit far too soon for your liking, and the hill that you’d been climbing slowly starts to fall despite the fingers still practicing a punishing pace as they disappear into your most intimate part. “Do you know how many sweet orgasms Daddy has stolen from you, Princess? Do you know how sweetly you moan when you're still asleep?”

“Fuck, Daddy, please!” You cry out in desperation, writhing on the bed before her free hand leaves your thigh and reclaims its position against your hips, effectively stilling your movements and leaving you to just accept what she gives you.

“Five. Daddy’s edged you five times. You must’ve been so sleepy, baby girl. Do you feel all rested now?” She teases, and her mouth is so close to your pussy that you can feel the vibration of her words against your clit. She wont start up again until you’ve answered her, but there's not a single coherent sentence in your brain at the moment. Your senses and thoughts are consumed with one thing; her. “Hm, do you feel better now, baby? You were so tired last night you didn’t even make a fuss when Wanda carried you to bed.”

Your face flushes in embarrassment as you learn about who had been the one to tuck you in so tenderly. You remember red hair and soft lips as they kissed your forehead, you remember a gentle hand brushing against your cheeks as you whined for them to stay with you, but it hadn’t registered that it was Wanda who carried you upstairs and not Natasha.

“Y-Yes, yes I feel better, now please! P-Please Daddy, make me cum! Let me cum!” You sob rather pathetically, but you're too lost in pleasure to care about how needy you come across. Your fingers that are still threaded into her hair attempt to pull her lips back to your clit and she lets you. If she didn’t want you winning, you know she could’ve easily resisted your grip, but there's something so satisfying about believing that you’ve overpowered Natasha Maximoff.

“Thought you’d never ask.” Natasha hums against your clit, devouring your pussy with purpose. She’s not wasting time on pleasantries, you suppose she’s already done enough of that, and her tongue sets a punishing pace in tune with her fingers as she circles and flicks at your clit with the very opposite of kitten licks like you know she loves to tease you with.

“Oh! Oh!” You cry out, an orgasm approaching you, but unlike earlier, Natasha doesn’t pull away and she doesn’t slow down, if anything, she picks up speed and hammers into your pussy so harshly you know you’ll be feeling these lingering touches for days afterward. You can’t bring it upon yourself to care though, and your hips attempt to meet her thrusts. “Please! Please!”

“Hold it.” Natasha sounds desperate herself, and it's only when she increases the speed of the vibrator that you realize what she wants. She wants to cum together. She’s leaving today, in less than two hours, but she’s taking the time to be with you rather than packing her carry-on, and on top of that, she wants to cum together. You're drowning in adoration, blinded by pleasure, completely surrendering yourself to her and whatever she deems you worthy of receiving. “Just a little more, Daddy’s so close, baby. Gonna cum with Daddy? You gonna cum all over Daddy’s face and let her taste you before she leaves? Gonna let me remember the taste of your sweet pussy before I leave for the airport?”

“Please! Please, I want to cum for you!” You cry out, your blunt nails clawing at the skin of her neck and shoulders as you feel yourself beginning to crash over that blissful edge of satisfaction. Natasha doesn’t stop you this time, and with the slightest signal of permission as her fingers tap twice on your belly, you fall over that edge and gush around her fingers.

“Good girl.” She coos, her breath caught in her throat as she comes down from her own high, wiggling away from the vibrator when the sensations become too much against her sensitive clit. “Such a good girl for me.” She praises you, rewarding you with a soft kiss against your throbbing clit. “Shh, let Daddy clean you up.” Natasha hums, pulling her fingers out of your pussy and replacing them with her tongue. You reach for her hand, knowing how much it drives her crazy when you suck your orgasm off of her fingers, and right now, you’re more than willing to please her in that way. Your tongue rolls between her knuckles, your teeth gently nibbling at her skin. You can barely feel her tongue cleaning you up as you devote yourself to her fingers, but you know she’s satisfied when she leans overtop of you and kisses you slowly, her lips damp with your arousal.

“Morning, Natty.” You whisper shyly, threading your fingers through her hair in a much nicer manner now that you’re not desperate for release. She smiles and mumbles the same greeting against your lips, and though you can taste yourself on her tongue, you can also taste Wanda, and you have a feeling the Sokovian lawyer in the room just next door was woken up in the same fashion. “Can taste Wanda on you.” You giggle softly, shoving her away from you in favor of cuddling up into her chest and making the most of the next hour and a half.

“She’s sweet, isn’t she?” Natasha teases, her fingers, still damp from your mouth, trace the smooth embellishments on your cheeks. She adores all of your imperfections, she’s guilty of running her thumb across the jagged scar on your hip whenever you wear shirts short enough to reveal the blemished skin, but something about her right now is so different then the many other times you’ve been in this position. You never want to leave her embrace but you know that you have to. You hate that you have to. “Wanda’s making breakfast. I have time for some coffee and pancakes before my flight.”

“I don’t want you to leave. I can fit in your suitcase if I really try, I’m sure of it.” You plead with her, but despite her wanting to see you try, she shakes her head and kisses away the pout on your lips.

“I think that counts as human trafficking. I might be the best lawyer in the world, but even I don’t have a good enough defense to get me out of those charges.” She teases, pulling you into an upright position so you won't fall asleep on her like you want to.

“Piggyback down the stairs?” You question, rubbing your eyes with closed fists, another one of your habits that both Natasha and Wanda hate, but she doesn’t reprimand you today.

“Of course, darling. Put your shorts back on and then I’ll bring you down.” Natasha kisses you one last time before she gently forces you off the guest bed and onto your own feet. You make quick work of redressing, forgoing the purple panties you had initially worn over last night, knowing that if she’d taken the time to edge you five times before you’d even woken up, that they were surely drenched and in need of multiple washes. Better yet, you might as well just throw them out.

You clamber onto her back with a smile on your lips the second your shorts are back into place, giggling manically when she jostles you around and makes a show of running down the stairs two at a time, much to Wanda’s displeasure. Your sensitive core rubs against the seam of your pajama shorts and the muscles in her back, but you pay the tickling sensations no mind, desperate to just enjoy these last few moments in her company to the best of your abilities.

“Do you still have a voice, malen’kiy? I’m pretty sure the neighbors heard you.” Wanda teased the second you and Natasha entered the kitchen, bringing an immediate scowl to your face. You kicked your foot out in her direction, knowing you’d miss but just wanting to retaliate in some way. “Do not act up with me, little one. Natasha can’t save you when she leaves.”

“Don’t be a meanie then!” You stuck your tongue out at her, hardly realizing the grave you were digging for yourself. Tensions were high with the promise of Natasha leaving, there was no real malice behind your jabs, but just as your emotions were unruly, Wanda’s patience was thin. Your eyes went wide when she suddenly appeared so much closer than you remembered her being, and you anticipated her next move before she’d even acted, but unfortunately for you, you hadn’t been quick enough to pull your tongue back into the safety of your mouth before Wanda was pinching it between her thumb and pointer finger.

“I understand you’re upset, but I will not tolerate this disobedience. If you want to join us for breakfast, you will knock it off now, otherwise I have no problem making you a plate and sending you to eat in the living room by yourself. Is that what you want, milyy?” You shook your head, but quickly regretted the decision when you remembered Wanda still held your tongue firmly. You whined, batting her hands away from your face but she was unrelenting, and if anything, her grip only got tighter. “If I see that tongue out again, you’re not going to like what happens.” She warned, and even though you wanted to call her bluff, Natasha’s tight grip on your ankles told you that was not a fire you wanted to play with today.

You whined, thankful that she had stopped holding your tongue captive and had walked back toward the stove, but now you were left with the sickest feeling of embarrassment crawling up your spine. For as bratty as you tended to be, you hated being scolded. You attempted to hide away in Natasha’s neck, but Wanda seemed to have grown a third eye and was quick to reprimand your fleeting attempts to worm your way into Natasha’s good graces.

“You do not get to hide. You wanted to be a brat, you can deal with the embarrassment of being reprimanded. If I’ve told you once, I’ve told you a million times, I am not as lenient as my wife, and I do not tolerate disobedience. Fix your pout, go sit down at the table, and wait quietly for me to finish your eggs.” Wanda pointed toward the already set table with her spatula, only briefly glancing back at you when she made the effort to reach for the salt and pepper shakers.

“Wanna stay with Natty.” You pleaded quietly, not attempting to hide your face again, but still holding tightly onto your dominant who would be leaving for the airport in forty minutes. You didn’t even have a full hour left anymore.

“I’ll be right there, go sit down. It’s okay, you’re okay.” Natasha lowered you onto the ground, softly kissing your temple before she patted your bottom and guided your shoulders in the direction of the table just beyond the threshold of the kitchen. Wanda and Natasha were the only people you know that actively used their dining room for every meal they ate together. They even had a breakfast nook in the corner of the kitchen with pretty blue placemats and a vase of fresh flowers as a centerpiece, but on the nights that you slept over, you’ve never even seen so much as a book be left on the table.

You sighed, doing as was asked of you, if only for a handful of minutes before you headed straight back toward the kitchen. You could hear their whispered voices even from where you were meant to be sitting at the table, but what they were saying was practically indistinguishable. They were too far away and far too quiet to make out clearly, but you hoped it wasn’t about you. You hoped that you hadn’t completely ruined Natasha’s last morning at home before her business trip. You sighed softly, deciding against ignoring your anxiety, and slowly approached them again, your hands clasped in front of you. As much as you wanted to run straight toward Natasha and have her hold you, your eyes were trained on Wanda, waiting for her to notice your presence, though you knew she already had. Maybe she was waiting for you to make the first move, or maybe she was ignoring you because she thought you were deliberately disobeying her. She wasn’t your dominant, she wasn’t anything to you, not really at least, but somehow it felt wrong to disobey her so directly.

“What is it, detka? Wanda asked you to sit at the table, did she not?” Natasha decided to throw you a bone after it was made clear that neither you nor Wanda were going to make the first move. You were both far too stubborn for your own good, but luckily enough, you had her to bridge the gap when neither of you were willing to give an inch.

Your eyes flickered between both Natasha and Wanda, and softly, so softly, you found the strength to apologize. “M’sorry, Wanda.” You admitted weakly, looking down at your naked feet in a lash ditch effort to avoid her strong stare, not wanting to see her face if she decided to reject your apology and send you away again. “C-Can I stay here?”

“Come here.” Wanda sighed softly, and you faintly recognized the sound of the spatula being set down and placed on the countertop. When you looked up from your feet, still avoiding Wanda’s eye but no longer trying to make yourself seem small, you noticed that the eggs were done cooking, piled up onto a serving plate and resting near a pitcher of orange juice that you had no doubt was freshly squeezed and organic from the local farmers market, though it lacked pulp much to your delight. Natasha was a freak when it came to how she liked her orange juice, but you were glad to see that at least somebody who permanently occupied a space in this house had some sanity. “I didn’t send you over there as a punishment, detka. You needed to breathe, and now that you have, you feel better don’t you?”

You nodded your head, because admittedly you did feel a little bit better now that you had taken a couple of minutes to put space between yourself and Wanda and all the big sad feelings you had no choice but to shuffle through. You still wrung your fingers together and looked everywhere but Wanda’s eye, but you definitely felt better. You could see Natasha’s smile in your peripheral vision, and you exhaled softly at the confirmation that you hadn’t completely ruined everything, another weight falling off of your shoulders.

“Did being over there make you anxious because you could hear us talking and you thought it was about you?” Wanda tested the waters, and your head snapped up to look at her with pure bewilderment in your expression. “Aren’t you the one who calls me a witch, shouldn’t you expect for me to know everything that goes on in that pretty little head?”

“Yeah.” You grimaced slightly. You didn’t know she had caught onto your less than creative nickname for her, but apparently she had and had just accepted it without complaint, or maybe she had complained to Natasha, but she wasn’t saying anything to you about it now. You felt bad, not normally someone who resorted to name calling when you were around someone you didn’t like, but Wanda just made you so… annoyed, for lack of a better adjective.

“Good job recognizing that.” She praised you lightly, and as much as you didn’t want to, you glowed beneath her positive attention, your eyes flickering to Natasha as if to ask her if she was actually hearing the same thing as you. The auburn-haired woman laughed at your expression, merely shaking her head and shrugging her shoulders. “Ah, not looking at Natasha, looking at me. Good girl.” Wanda gently scolded, and your cheeks flushed at her continuous praise. If someone would've told you that when you’d gotten into this situation that Wanda would be the one dishing out praise while Natasha stood silently on the sidelines, you would’ve laughed in their face. “Come here, I made Natty and I’s pancakes, but you can make yours.”

“I can help?” You light up at the suggestion, eager to get your hands on the bowl of batter that was waiting on the side of the stove, and you definitely spotted chocolate chips sitting right beside it. Neither Wanda nor Natasha had any specs of brown on their breakfast, so you wondered if those had been taken down just for you.

“If you promise not to splash batter everywhere.” Wanda hummed, and her eyes flickered briefly over to Natasha who was less than amused at the unneeded comment.

“It was one time! And it was your fault! Who comes up behind someone in the middle of making pancakes!” Natasha exclaimed in playful exasperation, though her wide smile betrayed her faux annoyance.

“And what is throwing pancake batter going to do if I had been the intruder you claimed to think I was? Was your plan to avoid being murdered by offering them a nice homemade breakfast?” Wanda rolled her eyes, pressing a kiss to Natasha’s cheek before she focused her attention back to you. “Bring the eggs to the table, Natasha.”

“Bring the eggs to the table, Natasha. Wash my car in the middle of a snowstorm, Natasha. Find a way to make elephants purple, Natasha.” The woman droned on in an accent similar to Wanda’s, though there was a distinguishable difference in her tone. With her Russian roots, she couldn’t quite master the Sokovian accent, but she certainly tried her best. Her mocking was more or less ignored, though Wanda did threateningly snap a dish towel in her direction and wordlessly pointed toward the dining room. “I thought this was my going away breakfast and yet I’m being put to work.”

“You have thirty minutes to eat, and unless you’d like me to let you get on a plane starving, you’ll do as I ask.” Wanda rolled her eyes, but her attention was no longer on her dramatic wife. Instead, she was entirely focused on you and guiding you through the motions of pouring the remaining pancake batter into the already hot and sizzling pan. You giggled when the smallest bit of batter splattered out of the pan, landing on the skin of your hand though you were grateful it wasn’t yet hot.

“Can I put chocolate chips in it?” You bounced on your toes excitedly, already reaching for the bag despite not yet having Wanda’s permission. Natasha was strictly against you eating sugary things for breakfast when you had classes to focus on, but it seems Wanda didn’t share the same concerns, because she hummed her approval seconds before your hand dipped into the bag.

“Do you want some pancake with your chocolate, honey?” Wanda laughed, and for once, you didn’t get offended by her teasing, just craned your neck and offered her the brightest smile you could muster. “If you can’t pay attention in class today, we will not be having chocolate chip pancakes on weekdays again. Got it, dove?”

“Got it!” You giggled, not really paying attention to her anyways. You were entirely too busy making sure that your single pancake didn’t burn as a result of the too high heat and combined culinary negligence, though every couple of seconds you snuck a handful of chocolate chips into your mouth and hummed as they melted on your tongue. They bought the good chocolate, that shouldn’t have surprised you.

“I can see you, you are aware of that, aren’t you?” Wanda laughed, but there was no bite to her taunt, and again you found that it didn’t bother you like it usually did. If she had wanted you to stop eating the chocolate chips, she would’ve asked you to, but she quite enjoyed seeing you so carefree and happy with the ongoing promise of Natasha’s departure looming heavily in the air around you both.

“Do you want one?” You replied coyly, holding up your hand for her to see. There was in fact a singular chocolate chip pinched between your fingers, and while Wanda wanted to roll her eyes and remind you that she had been the one to purchase them in the first place, she settled for simply accepting your offer. Her way of accepting your offer however, had not been what you’d had in mind, and you’d flinched in shock when her teeth grazed the knuckles of your fingers and her tongue corralled the single piece of chocolate into her mouth. “That– That is not what I meant!” You blushed a ferocious shade of red, quickly turning back around and focusing your attention on the pancake that had finally finished cooking.

“Stop teasing her, Wands!” Natasha’s voice called out from the dinning room where she had remained throughout the entire ordeal, but you could hear the amusement in her tone and wondered if she could see the both of you from wherever she was standing.

“Yeah, Wands.” You giggled, poking your tongue out at the lawyer before you remembered her earlier words and your face dropped. “Sorry!”

“She stuck her tongue out at you again, didn’t she?” Natasha’s voice filled your ears, and the sound of her laughter followed shortly after, but you were too mortified to smile at the sound. You turned around to look at Wanda nervously, noting that her hands were on her hips and her perfectly manicured nails glimmered beneath the bright lighting and unfiltered sunlight. Her eyebrow was quirked perfectly, and you wondered how long she had practiced that expression until she was sure it was perfect. She had her intimidation tactics down pat, but you supposed that came with owning the world's most successful law firm.

“Sorry! I really didn’t mean to!” You pleaded with her to believe you, knowing that the time you could spend with Natasha was slowly dwindling, and you really did not want to spend the last few minutes of contact with Wanda mad at you.

The stern expression on the lawyer's face melted away like it had never been there in the first place, and Wanda laughed so sweetly you were almost absolutely certain that you’d somehow missed a joke Natasha murmured from the dining room. You pouted in confusion, digging your toe into the hardwood floor and flickering your gaze down to watch.

“You’re fine, detka. Thank you for apologizing, but I know you were just teasing, huh?” She smiled, lifting your chin to meet your gaze. She kissed your forehead, something she had only ever done when you were half-asleep or entirely fucked out, but you couldn’t deny, even though you desperately wanted to, that it felt nice, comforting even. “Get those pancakes into the dining room before they get cold. Natty only has a couple more minutes before her driver gets here.”

And once again you were faced with the unavoidable truth. Natasha was leaving for fourteen days and there was nothing you could do to stop it.

The first five days without Natasha had gone as well as had been expected, though you would say you were faring significantly better than she’d ever anticipated. Even Wanda, who you had seen a handful of times throughout the week when you escaped to the Maximoff residence to work in your newly established office, had been surprised at your composure. The older woman of the couple had never been away for so long, usually capping her trips at three to five days, and even that was challenging for you to accept in the beginning of your relationship, but you were handling the distance well and with pride, being her strong girl like you’d promised to be. You talked daily, and though you didn’t hear her voice as much as you would like, she’d made the time to FaceTime twice so far. Just because she didn’t have the time to call didn’t mean you missed out completely on what activities she was up to though. She made sure to send you plenty of pictures of the scenery, and you’d all but gushed over the resort she was staying at when she sent you a picture of the sunset from her room. There were at least twenty pictures of Bahama sunrises in your camera roll now, but your favorite pictures were the ones you got at random throughout the day that were nonsensical and entirely her. She sent you pictures of her outfits and of her drinks when she managed to escape to the bar after whatever meetings had given her a headache. She’d managed to get her hands on a pina colada in a coconut on the second day of her trip, and although the bendy straw was yellow not pink, you forgave her and asked how it was. Your most favorite pictures however, were the ones of her notes. You’d expected the CEO of a successful law firm to take detailed and attentive notes, but every time she sent you a picture of her notebook, the pages were filled with random doodles of flowers and stick people, and yours and Wanda’s name in different squiggly styles. You held those closest to your chest, because even if you were just her submissive, she was thinking about you the same way she was thinking about Wanda, her wife.

Your academic workload hadn’t lightened in the last five days, but you’d been juggling classes and routine well, somehow managing to balance studying and homework as seamlessly as anyone who made the decision to overload in a Spring semester could manage. You had hours of homework a night, research papers and historical annotations never giving you a break, but the end was in sight, and for a while, that simple fact had been enough to keep you pushing through. You knew Natasha would be proud of your grades at the end of the semester, and you had been anticipating the praise and reward she was sure to provide, but that all came crashing down after your last lecture of the night. Your professor, Sharan Carter, had berated you for your complaints about your group project, but not only that, she had failed you. Her reasoning had been that you did not adhere to the guidelines of the assignment, claiming that you made no effort to work alongside your partners, and even though she had a small novel of proof in her email history that debunked that accusation, she hadn’t wanted to hear your side of the story, and had sent you out of her office with the dismissive shake of her head.

All you had wanted in that moment of shame and defeat was Natasha, and although you knew she was over a thousand miles away on a tropical island, probably stiff as a board in some multi-hour meeting that she had no real care for, you had gotten in your car and driven straight to the Maximoff residence. Your hands were trembling at your sides, and it would appear to anyone who even glanced at you too quickly that you’d been caught in a sporadic storm with how damp your cheeks were from the tears that defied your attempts to keep them at bay. Your hands were trembling so violently that you couldn’t get the key in the hole, and dissimilar from how the front door remained unlocked until lights out when Natasha was home, you found that Wanda was in the habit of locking it each and every time she left and entered. The thought of the Sokovian lawyer made a sob crawl past your lips, and feverishly you knocked on the door, hoping she could hear you from wherever she was in the house. You didn’t care about how you were supposed to hate her. You didn’t care about the rivalry that existed between the two of you, though it was slowly becoming an afterthought as the days passed. She was the only source of comfort you had right now, and as you waited on the porch, shaking like a leaf in the middle of a hurricane, you yearned for her touch and her citrusy scent.

When the door opened, and the quickest glimpse of Wanda’s burgundy hair flashed before your eyes, there wasn’t a second of hesitation that crossed your mind before you stepped past the threshold of where their porch met the entryway and dug yourself into the lawyer’s chest, desperately clutching at her t-shirt. Agonizing sobs further shake your already trembling body, and you barely recognize the weight of her hands slinking around your waist and drawing you in closer to her chest as you finally let yourself fall apart completely.

“S-She failed me.” You sobbed into Wanda’s arms, acutely aware of how silly you probably came across to the businesswoman as you allowed yourself to become so distraught over something as trivial as a project grade, but the combination of academic failure and Natasha’s absence had entirely demolished your reserve. “A-And you told me to t-tell you if she didn’t listen to me! So I am! I did! I’m telling you! A-And Natty’s not here, and I’m so tired, and she failed me and it dropped my entire semester grade to a D! A-And I just, I just wanted Nat, and I don’t even know why I came because I know she’s not here, b-but then I got here and I just wanted you, and-and-and-”

“Shh,” Wanda soothed you gently, effectively stopping you from working yourself up even further than she thought possible with your practically incomprehensible rambling and heartbreaking tears. Her gentle hands rub patterns onto your back that you were only vaguely aware of in your state of upset, but eventually the combination of her physical presence and dull beating of her heart in your ear calms you down enough to allow you to suck in a sharp gasp of air. “You’re okay. You’re okay, sweetheart. Just take a deep breath for me, okay? Good girl.”

You melted into Wanda’s embrace as she continued to hold you tight, one of her ringed hands eventually trailing up your spine until it found a home at the back of your head. She pressed your face into her neck, not caring about how your wet cheeks made her skin damp and sticky, just wanting to keep you close until she was absolutely certain that you had calmed down enough to breathe normally. Even if you hadn’t realized how close you were to tipping over the edge and into a full episode of panic, Wanda had, and it scared her half to death to see you so distraught and beside yourself. Up until this very moment, she’d never even considered how she would miss your sarcastic quips and ruthless banter, but opening her front door to find you a mere shell of the woman you usually were had been horrifying and not something she ever wanted to relive.

Eventually, you pulled away from her embrace, wanting to wipe your cheeks free of tear tracks and mascara, and desperate to breathe in the fresh scent of blossoming spring that surrounded the suburban roads of Westview. Wanda smelled heavenly, she was positively addicting with her coconut mandarin mix, but fresh air was non negotiable in your current state, and greedily you breathed in through your nose deeply until that suffocating feeling in your chest became a simple buzz. It was then that you realized Wanda was wearing her blue light glasses, and your gut clenched in guilt, realizing that she’d been working up until your little meltdown.

“Fuck, you were working. I’m sorry.” You apologized quickly, a fresh onslaught of tears brimming your eyes. You couldn’t seem to do anything right today, and so desperately you wished that Natasha were here to make it all better, despite knowing the luck of your day had nothing to do with the physical presence of one single person.

“No more tears. No more tears, detka.” Wanda coaxes you farther into the house, not allowing you to back away and retreat toward your car like you’d been attempting to do since realization sunk in. “Nat told you to come over whenever, I’m glad you remembered that. I know I’m not Natasha, sweet girl. I wish I could bring her back for you, but for right now, why don’t you tell me what you need, hm? Can you do that?”

“You’re working. It’s important if you're working at home this late.” You whispered shamefully, not wanting to be the reason Wanda falls behind on deadlines. You know it’s her company and she can do whatever she damn well pleases, pushing off a few measly emails included in that long list of possibilities, but you would feel horrible if your childish breakdown caused more work and stress for both her and Natasha in the future.

“It is important, you’re right about that, malysh. Darcy fucked up big time with a client, and now I need to fix her mess before they ask for her release, and I won’t be able to argue with them if it comes to that, but nothing is more important then your wellbeing, so can you talk me through what you need?” Wanda gently cupped your cheeks in the same manner that Natasha usually does when you're in this state, and you felt a pang of sadness rush through you as you realized the true extent of how much you missed her. You’d been pushing off the sadness and grief that came with her absence, but you couldn’t avoid it forever, and apparently it had decided to catch up with you now.

“Water. Natty always makes me drink water after and she… she holds me.” You admitted shyly, afraid of Wanda’s reaction to what you were indirectly asking of her, but all she did was smile at you reassuringly and lead you in toward the kitchen, the wide open front door forgotten about for a few short moments.

Wanda makes quick work of filling a glass for you, not letting go of your hand for more than a necessary second throughout the entire process, for which you were grateful. You were absolutely certain that if she let go now, you’d spiral back down into that isolating pit of never ending thoughts. She pours herself a glass as well, though hers is taller than yours. She takes a sip before motioning for you to do the same, watching you intently over the rim of her glasses that have started to slip down the bridge of her nose. The cold water feels marvelous on your throat when you finally raise the glass to your lips and take a small sip, having not realized how scratchy and stiff it was as a result of your crying.

“Would you like to sit in with me as I finish up with the paperwork?” Wanda questions you, her tone indicative of your freedom to decline her offer and ask for something else, but you wouldn’t even dream about saying no to her right now.

“I can?” You asked meekly, shuffling on your feet nervously.

“I wouldn’t have offered it if I wasn’t being truthful, dorogoy. I know you’re worried about me falling behind, so I figured I could hold you in my lap for a while until I finish up everything that needs to get done. Does that sound like a good plan?” Wanda checked in with you, her thumb rubbing comforting circles on your knuckles. Her touch on your hand is a stark contrast from how she’d last grabbed you when you were in the kitchen together, but it feels nice and you don’t ever want to pull away from it.

“The front doors still open.” You remind her, and she laughs softly at your concern for the door, guiding you back into the living room and toward the entryway. She closes the door with a soft push, making sure that both locks are clicked before she even considers turning toward the stairs and leading you up toward her office. She may be a capable woman, but a home intruder felt like something she wasn’t quite qualified to deal with.

“There, all better.” She smiled down at you, leaning in just close enough to brush her lips against your forehead. “Do you need anything else before we head up to my office? It might take a couple of hours before I have everything completed.”

“No.” You decline her offer, shuffling closer into her embrace when you ultimately decided she was too far away. Your free hand was still holding onto the glass of water, and you were careful not to spill any of it as you moved.

“Okay then, bug. Let’s go.” She squeezed your hand tightly, slowly leading the way toward her office despite your familiarity with the route. You didn’t complain about her slow pace, taking the time to really admire the subtle details of her home that you overlooked when you were busy chasing Natasha around.

The Maximoff residence was luxuriant and abundant to put it gently. There were large windows in both the kitchen and the living room that allowed sunlight to pour in at every hour of the day and coat the furniture in golden hues. There were subtle traces of both Wanda and Natasha’s separate personalities in the decor that filled bookshelves and countertops, but for the most part, their style blended together superbly. It wasn’t obnoxious or over-the-top, no, it was done so tastefully that you thought the interior of the house belonged in some high class magazine that showcased celebrity homes. The accents of black in their appliances and metal hardware that were undoubtedly Natasha’s doing, but you thought it fit perfectly with the presently white walls and light colored wood. Wanda had more to do with the furnishing if her office was any indication. While Natasha’s furniture was practical and bare, Wanda spared no expense in assuring her office was both functional and comfortable. Their subtle differences were what made them work as both romantic and business partners so well, and you hoped that one day you’d be lucky enough to find a love like theirs.

“You still with me, sweetheart?” Wanda checked in, effectively drawing you out of your head that you’d somehow gotten lost in, but your thoughts weren’t unpleasant, and the ghost of a smile on your lips assured Wanda that you were fine.

“Did Nat pick the black hardware?” You questioned softly, following Wanda as she stepped into her office and closed the door behind you both.

The woman laughed at your question, having expected hardware to be the last thing on your mind, but she nodded her head. “She did. I wanted gold.”

“I like it. I could tell she picked it. You picked the furniture.” You mumbled, glad to be talking about something other than your breakdown. You didn’t know what you expected when you originally sought Wanda out for comfort, but you were glad she was just rolling with the punches as they came.

“Very attentive, little one. I did.” When she sat down in her office chair, setting her water down carefully a good few inches away from her keyboard, she turned to you expectantly, patting her lap with a silent invitation. She pried the glass of water from your grip, placing it next to hers, and you realized then that she had gotten down two different glasses on purpose. “Get comfy, we might be here a while.”

You sank into her lap tentatively, unsure of how she liked to be held. You practically koala’d yourself around Natasha whenever she allowed you to keep her company in her office, but you’d never cuddled like this with Wanda before, and you didn’t want to make her feel suffocated with your clinginess. So instead, you settled for resting your cheek against her chest, the crown of your head tucked beneath her chin, and you kept your arms pinned between your chests. You could feel her every inhale as she breathed, and you quickly decided that you liked this position.

“Before you get too sleepy, I need the name of your professor, malen’kiy.” Wanda rubbed your back with a heavy palm, making note of the fact that you seemed to have forgone a bra when getting dressed that morning. You were just like Natasha in that way, and she found a gentle smile gracing her features at the subtle similarities between the two of you. It was no wonder you fit together like a glove, you were practically replicas of each other in the little aspects of your interests and personalities.

“Sharon Carter.” You mumbled, entirely too content to really care about how you were basically feeding the woman to wolves with your admission of her name. Wanda would rip her to shreds when she got her claws on her, you were sure of that fact, but she deserved it after the harsh and unnecessary comments she’d made.

“Carter, huh.” There was something in Wanda’s tone that implied she was familiar with the woman, or at the very least her last name, but you didn’t care all that much about whatever was going through her head.

“Shh.” You silenced her, snuggling deeper into her chest and clutching the hem of her t-shirt between your fingers, wanting to rest in silence for the next couple of hours.

Amused with your antics, Wanda pressed a kiss to the top of your head before she got back to business, the only sound that filled the office was the rhythmic clicking of her keyboard as her fingers worked feverishly to resolve the issue that Darcy had created. It wasn’t even a full ten minutes before you were sound asleep against her chest, your deep and even breaths tickling the exposed skin of Wanda’s chest, but she didn’t care as long as you were feeling better.

Your relationship shifted that night. It wasn’t perfect, not yet at least, but you couldn’t deny that Wanda had somehow wormed her way into your heart, or maybe, just maybe, she had always had a place in it to begin with.

#wanda maximoff x natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #dom!natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff smut #natasha romanoff fluff #daddy natasha #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #dom!wandanat x reader #wanda maximoff smut #wanda maximoff fluff #mommy wanda #wandanat #wandanat x reader #wandanat smut #wandanat fluff #series: you are in love #minors dni ৎ୭

1K notes · View notes

fictoculus · 6 months ago

Text

౨ৎ genshin men; love languages...

send a request!┊masterlist┊taglist applications

FEAT... aether, albedo, alhaitham, ayato, childe, diluc, gorou, heizou, itto, kaeya, kaveh, kazuha, neuvillette, scara, thoma, tighnari, wriothesley, venti, xiao, xingqiu, zhongli

A/N... ohemgee kaede is back ?!! i'm sorry it's been so longggg i've really missed writing, i think i js kinda lost my spark for a bit but i should be back to posting nowww hooray !! even if i don't come backkk (since i'm not fully certain) i hope you can still enjoy these hc drabble thingies nd also my previous works, thank you ♡

✧ quality time.

he wants nothing more than to spend time with you, to smell the sweet fragrance of your perfume as it dances in the gentle breeze. he wants to watch as your hair flows gently, each strand delicately swaying back and forth, as if to mimic the way he swings his arms when his hand is holding yours. just being around you gets him all excited, though you'll never catch him actually admitting it. he has countless photos of the two of you together, each one connected with a memory that will stay with him forever. he often finds himself looking over them late at night when he's missing you, wishing you were there to hold him, or tell him about your interests, even sitting in silence would suffice. he just wants to be with you, whether that be studying, sleeping, reading, shopping, eating - he doesn't care, he'll do anything as long as it's with you..

xiao, alhaitham, aether, heizou, wriothesley + your favs

✧ gift giving.

it's almost like routine. at least once a fortnight, he comes knocking on your door with some sort of gift, stops you in the corridor with a bag full of goodies, or has a huge bouquet of your favourite flowers delivered straight to your front door when he's unable to come see you. he goes through a lot of trouble behind the scenes to get these things together for you, but it's all worth it when he sees that pretty smile light up your face, eyes glistening with pure excitement as you see whatever he's prepared for you. his eyes, on the other hand, are full of love as he sees the outcome of his hard work; your happiness is of utmost importance to him. the gifts he gives come in all different shapes and sizes, anything from a snack you'd said you'd been craving to a ridiculously expensive piece of jewellery, but you know that no matter what it is, he put so much thought and care into picking it out for you; that's what mattered to you most. even if he didn't shower you in his love this way, you wouldn't love him any less - of course you wouldn't. you care about him, not the things he gives you (though you really do appreciate them). he loves you more than words can say, and this is his way of showing it.

zhongli, ayato, albedo, neuvillette + your favs

✧ physical touch.

he's all over you. from the second you wake up to the moment you drift off to sleep. 24/7. he just can't get enough. he's practically addicted to your warmth, the softness of your skin, scars and all. it no longer comes as a surprise when you feel his arms snake around your waist from behind, or even when he nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck, his hair tickling your cheek as he moulds around your figure. he can't seem to stay away from you. the second he hears your voice, or the mention of your name, even your footsteps (yes, he knows), he comes rushing over, immediately insisting on intertwining his fingers with yours. your contact is replenishing to him. no matter how tired he is or how many hardships he had to face that day, feeling you run your hands up and down his back or cup his cheeks, his mood is immediately uplifted.

itto, childe, diluc, tighnari, kaeya, kaveh + your favs

✧ words of affirmation.

"i love you" "i love you" "i love you" it's constant, over and over and over. he repeats it a thousand times, as if it's an ancient incantation, but he still doesn't think it's enough. he just wants you to know how perfect you are, how beautiful you are, how easy to love you are; he wants you to see yourself the way he sees you. he's desperate to talk about you, to tell someone how much he loves you, and who else would he tell than the person he trusts most? and so, when the two of you are finally snuggled up close, he'll whisper in your ear the most poetic words you've ever heard, trying his best to capture your essence, though to him, it always feels just out of reach. he knows he'll never be able to truly explain how he feels about you, because there are no words for that feeling he gets in his heart when he hears your voice, or lays his eyes on you, let alone thinks about you. he recites your own stories and little habits back to you as if you're a complete stranger to yourself, and honestly, you can't help but find it endearing. he loves you so much, and he always knows the perfect things to say to see that smile he treasures deep in his heart.

kazuha, xingqiu, zhongli, venti, neuvillette + your favs

✧ acts of service.

sure, he may not be so good with words, but not to worry, he makes up for it one way or another. it's the little things for him. every morning without fail, he'll pack your lunch and leave it on the kitchen counter for you, a little memo hidden inside signed off with his initials and a small doodle, as always. he'll iron your clothes and hang them in your wardrobe, all neat and tidy for when you get dressed the next day. he'll get up 15 minutes earlier than when you usually arise, cooking breakfast for you and letting the scent of crisp bacon waft into the bedroom and wake you from your slumber. he'll do anything for you, big or small; he just wants to make sure you know how much he loves you.

scara, thoma, alhaitham, diluc + your favs

thanks for reading ♡ want to read more? my requests are OPEN, so please feel free to let me know what you’d like me to write next!

TAGLIST…@maopll . @nyxmainex . @avensuersa . @moondrop-gummies. @lacunaanonymoused apply here

714 notes · View notes

hcneymooners · 5 days ago

Note

best friends mom ambessa? perchance? love ur fics 🤍

⋆ you made me crazy, you made me wild.

best friend's mother!ambessa x curvy!f!reader. men & minors dni.

synopsis: a psychic once told you you'd have the kind of love that would mark you for the rest of your life. did it have to be with your best friend's mother?

cw: milf!bessa, age difference, older woman/younger woman, modern au, you and mel are best friends, long rich people vacations, curvy!reader, reader is implied to be a woc but you can still read regardless, forbidden love, sneaking around, vaping bc i have an oral fixation however i have never once smoked i just like the vibe i fear, non-sexual intimacy, vaginal sex, vaginal fingering, overstimulation (bessa!receiving, r!recieving), multiple orgasms, tribbing, cunnilingus (bessa!receiving), you go to town on her my god, squirting (bessaaaa does it), tender sex, floor sex, manhandling, light angst, friendship breakups, angst with a happy ending.

notes: perchance is killing me. thank you so much for being so sweet mami. hope you enjoy. also, don't vape kids!

you and mel haven't spoken in three weeks.

the thought sits heavy in your chest as you perch on the window seat of your boutique, one leg tucked beneath you, the other dangling lazily. your cream silk camisole rides up your belly, catching on the velvet cushions behind you. outside, venice beach awakens like a lioness stretching in the sun, all languid and golden.

the brass bell above your door chimes softly in the morning breeze. your fingers find your vape – a delicate thing of gold, engraved with climbing roses – and bring it to your lips in a motion as natural as breathing.

the sweet ghost of vanilla mango curls around you like a familiar lover. you've always needed something between your lips, a fact that amuses your friends and once made ambessa raise an eyebrow in that way that sent heat flooding through your body.

the recent mornings have been sadder and slower than most, though objectively one wouldn’t be able to tell. you keep waking in fits, your body heavy with mourning. your reflection in the shop window shows what you've become in her absence: curves nestled in vintage, mussed hair tumbling past your shoulders, lips stained the color of crushed berries.

a crystal pendant nestles in the soft valley between your breasts, and your rings catch the light as you fidget with the hemline of your denim cutoffs. there's nothing calculated about your appearance today – no performance or intention. it's as honest as you can muster this morning.

the wooden floor creaks beneath your bare feet as you move to arrange a display of moonstone rings. your own fingers are adorned with gold bands, each one telling a story of who you were before that summer in england. before mel, before her mother and that library with its leather-bound books and muggy afternoons, before you watched her, endeared as she peered at her phone with those sunglasses perched on the top of her head.

before you realized that the soft animal of your body had found its home in the worst fucking lineage alive.

your phone lights up again – another message from mel. her name on the screen sends a fresh wave of guilt through you, but not regret. never regret. not about the way her mother’s hands felt on your waist in the conservatory, not about the first kiss that tasted of chlorine and whiskey, not even about the screaming match that ended with you on a plane back to california.

you take another long drag from your vape, watching the morning light fracture through hanging crystals into rainbow patterns across your skin. the salt air mingles with your perfume – something expensive and european that ambessa had picked out because she liked to dress you like a little doll, build your body up.

a customer pushes open the door, sending the brass bell into a symphony, and you unfold yourself from the window seat. your reflection shows a woman who knows exactly who she is – soft-bodied but steel-spined, tarnished but holding out for healing.

you tuck the vape into a vintage ceramic dish beside your register, next to the rose quartz crystal your psychic insisted would bring your true love back to you. you're not sure you believe it, but you keep it close anyway, just in case the universe is listening.

the customer's voice hits you like a wave – crisp, cultured british vowels discussing the merits of different pieces. it's nothing like ambessa's voice, really, but it's enough to send you tumbling back into that summer, that first day when everything changed.

𓇼

mel had been waiting at heathrow, practically vibrating with anxiety, her locs spun into a tight chignon at the nape of her neck—a nervous habit since childhood. you'd fallen into each other's arms like you always did, all tears and high laughter, ignoring the disapproving looks from passing businessmen. it was the same way you'd hugged since you were five, sharing grape juice boxes and childish fantasies on the playground.

"it's just a little cottage in the countryside," mel had said on facetime, twisting her initial necklace. "very quaint, very english. you'll probably think it's charming." what she hadn't mentioned was that her "cottage" was actually a sprawling estate that made downton abbey look modest.

honey-colored stone stretched towards the sky, windows gleaming like diamonds in the afternoon sun. the gravel drive seemed endless, winding through gardens that swallowed the sun within their towering walls. it must’ve been a dream to grow up here, small feet tumbling through the mazes and nothing but the entire world before you. your hand was still clasped in hers on the gearshift of her vintage mercedes, just like always, but you could feel her fingers trembling slightly.

"mom's probably in the library," mel said, killing the engine. "she's got this thing about afternoon light."

she chewed her lip, a habit you recognized from exam days and first dates.

"just… don't take it personally if she's a bit… well, you know. she can be kind of intense. dad always says she's an acquired taste."

you remember adjusting your dress, a red-and-white gingham number that clung delicately to your stomach. the bow at the bust had come undone at least three times that morning, and the skirt, airy and flared, fluttered in the slightest breeze. it felt a little too simple, too worn for the looming grandeur of mel’s childhood home, but you hadn’t thought to pack anything else. besides, something was grounding about it—the way the cotton pressed against your skin, the familiar weight of the straps on your shoulders, like it was trying to remind you who you were.

you followed mel through halls lined with oil paintings and antiquities. your sandals clicked against marble floors, echoing off high ceilings. everything smelled overwhelmingly of jasmine and time passed, the atmosphere practically bloated by money’s touch.

and then there was ambessa.

she stood in a shaft of golden light, tall and elegant in a cream linen suit that probably cost more than your entire wardrobe. silver threaded through her dark hair which was braided down into a neat, long plait and when she turned, her eyes caught yours with an intensity that made your knees weak. your psychic's words echoed in your head – "your palm reads of a love that will shake you. stand fast, girl." – and something in your chest shifted, like tectonic plates realigning.

"mom, this is my best friend," mel was saying, but her voice seemed to come from very far away. you noticed how she shifted her weight from foot to foot, how her fingers twisted in the waistband of her maxi skirt. "the one i've been telling you about."

ambessa's handshake was firm, her skin warm against yours.

"welcome to our home," she said, and her voice – god, her voice was like honey over gravel, like smoke and leather. "i trust you'll find everything… adequate."

you managed to say something appropriate, probably, though you couldn't remember what. all you could focus on was the way ambessa's eyes lingered on the wide basket of your waist, the delicate line of your collarbone, the pearl drop nestled between your breasts. it felt like a cigarette dragged slowly across your skin.

later, sprawled across mel's massive bed like you used to do at sleepovers, both of you tipsy on expensive wine stolen from the cellar, mel talked about her latest boyfriend drama – some posh boy from oxford who couldn't commit – while you traced patterns on her linen sheets. but your mind kept drifting to the library, to ambessa's knowing smile, to the way she'd looked at you over dinner like you were a deer she very much wanted to fell.

you didn't know then that those looks would become your undoing.

𓇼

you couldn't sleep that first week, your body stubbornly running on pacific time. the massive house creaked and whispered at night, all those endless corridors filled with shadows. you'd taken to wandering, padding through the halls in your cotton shorts and an old guns & roses tee, your thick hair piled high in a silk scarf that your grandmother had taught you to wrap just so.

that's how she found you the third night, curled up in the window seat of the informal library (because of course there were multiple libraries), reading the beautiful and damned by phone light. your bare legs were tucked up under you, painted toes peeking out, a half-eaten peach leaving sticky fingerprints on the pages.

"fitzgerald at three in the morning?" her voice was rough with sleep, but still commanding. ambessa stood in the doorway in a black silk robe that made your mouth go dry, her hair loose around her shoulders. "how terribly american of you."

"can't sleep," you drawled, your accent thick and lazy in the quiet. "time zones are, like, totally brutal."

the ghost of a smile touched her lips at your exaggerated californian lilt, and something warm unfurled in your chest when her eyes lingered on your face, studying you with a naked interest that made your skin prickle.

it became a ritual after that – you in your sun-faded pajamas, her in sophisticated sleepwear that probably cost more than your rent. she'd pour two fingers of sherry ("none of that silly wine you girls keep stealing." “yeah, sorry about that.”), and you'd talk about everything and nothing.

you told her about your boutique—at the time—dream, about learning to make jewelry from an old hippie who read tarot cards on the boardwalk. she spoke of art acquisitions and board meetings, but sometimes, when the night grew soft and heavy around you, she'd share pieces of herself that felt like an easy glimpse into your future.

mel noticed, of course she did.

"mum’s different with you," she said one afternoon, watching you apply coconut oil to your sun-warmed skin by the pool. her voice was careful, measured in a way that made your stomach twist. "she actually laughs at your jokes. she never laughs at anyone's jokes."

you hummed noncommittally, pretending to be absorbed in moisturizing. but you could feel mel's eyes on you, the same sharp gaze she'd inherited from her mother, taking in how you'd started wearing your nicest pajama sets to your nighttime wanderings, how you'd borrowed one of her expensive face creams "just to test it out."

during the days, you'd lounge in the massive gardens with mel, your skin deepening to further in the english sun while she talked less and less about her boyfriend's drama and more about how strange it was to see her mother so… present. but at night – at night you belonged to the library, to raspy-voiced conversations and loaded silences, to the way ambessa's eyes would trace the crescent of your folded body, the arch of your neck, the fullness of your lips.

"you're nothing like i expected," she said one night, two months in, her voice low and intimate in the darkness. you were sprawled on the persian rug, head tipped back against a leather armchair, humming some alternative song under your breath. your skin glowed warm and rich in the lamplight, a sharp contrast to the pale marble and cream walls surrounding you.

"oh?" you looked up at her through your lashes, feeling brave from the whiskey and the late hour. "what did you expect?"

"someone more like mel's other friends. polished. proper." her lips curved around the words as if they amused her. "not this beautiful little creature in threadbare pajamas, so full of freedom and self-assuredness. you hold your own."

beautiful. the word hung in the air between you, dangerous and flickering. like the growing tension you felt whenever mel watched you both at dinner, her eyes narrowing at each shared glance, each lingering moment. you sat up slowly, your movements sluggish and dream-like.

"i don’t. not really. you make me nervous, but i learned early on how to fake it."

her eyes met yours in the dim light, and the air flooded with something thick and heady. your body felt electric. behind you, a floorboard creaked – mel, you'd realize later, watching from the doorway with dawning understanding.

but in that moment, all you could see was ambessa, all you could feel was the weight of what was building between you, an avalanche you were both choosing to let bury you.

in a matter of minutes, she had her hands on you, your back against her firm chest with two fingers tucked inside of your cunt. your legs sprawled open, your pussy blossoming with arousal like rain on roses.

she was softer than you’d imagined, but it was almost relieving. the tenderness did more for you anyway, sent your pulse more freely throughout your body.

you bucked your hips as heat spiraled up from the base of your spine. ambessa pressed you back down, fingers gripping deeply into your thighs.

“no,” she murmured. “stay down.”

you were nestled into her lap, her fingers milking you gently as you arched. your voice seemed caught in your throat, your neck extended in expectation of a kiss. she indulged you, mouth capturing yours while her thumb slipped past your thatch of curls to play with your clit.

the kiss was wet and sloppy, uncoordinated as a result of your jerking body. still, she fed from you reaping kiss after kiss, suckling at your tongue. she groaned into your lips as you threaded a harsh hand into her hair, pining her face against yours.

in response, she inserted a third finger. you let out a high moan at the added stimulation, rooting a hand around her neck to better fuck yourself down. she laughed lightly at your desire, pumping faster until your cunt dribbled gratitude down her knuckles.

“there you go, sweet girl,” she cooed and you shivered.

you suddenly understood cults and their leaders, how special you could feel when their attention was laved over you. you were trying your best to remain quiet, thick thighs trembling as she fucked you a little harder. your tits were bouncing as you met her thrusts and she hid her face into your neck, sucking and biting lightly.

with a muffled squeal you came, squirting lavishly all over where the two of you were locked together. true to her nature, ambessa didn’t give you a moment. with an efficient maneuver, she slid you around and on top of her. it was then that you realized she was naked, robe hanging open at her sides. you weren’t given a second to admire her.

instead, she tucked you into her and kissed you as she extended her legs out and settled you onto her warm cunt. you collapsed fully into her, face buried in the soft crevice of her heavy tits. she let out a slight hum of satisfaction as she slotted your clits together, hooking a leg over you to better increase the spread of your puffy pussy. eventually, you understood the intention and began to rock steadily against her.

the friction was heavenly and you clutched her tightly, burrowing into her broad body as you chased your pleasure. ambessa was just as frantic, snapping up with a hand anchored into your hair. your silk scarf had fallen long ago but you didn’t worry about it. all that mattered was her deep groans of pleasure and the way she kept fucking up against you.

“fuck, honey,” she murmured and you wanted to tell her that you knew, that you understood.

but you couldn’t. you were rendered pathetic by the threat of your second orgasm and settled for cumming inside of her with a wet wail. you could feel her legs shaking but you knew she hadn’t finished, and with a great groan you slid off of her.

stumbling slightly, you stood and rearranged so that you were kneeling in between the apex of her legs with your ass high in the air. as you dripped onto the carpet you began to lap at her and reached a hand up to twist and pinch at her nipples, alternating between her tits.

her breath began to shudder, her chest heaving as she ground down on her tongue. it only took a couple more broad strokes up her pussy and a relentless circling of her clit for her to finish, the liquid dowsing your nose and chin. the spray was thick and warm.

pleased, you hummed into her and started the whole thing up again. she cried out, legs closing around you in a suffocating crush.

not once did you let go.

𓇼

the fight had been brutal. even now, the memory makes your stomach churn—leaves you flinching, sick, and unsteady.

“jesus, [name],” mel’s voice had been sharp, cutting through the quiet. “you’re playing house with my fucking mother.”

“mel—”

“no!” she snapped, her words laced with disbelief and venom. “i can’t believe you. what? are you just desperate? taking whatever scraps you can get? ‘but i love her, melly!’”

her voice pitched high, mocking, cruel in a way you’d never heard before.

“i mean, my god, just go to therapy. don’t go fucking my mother!”

your hand cracked against her cheek before you even registered the motion.

“fuck you,” you spat, trembling, the tears hot and blinding.

she staggered back a step, wide-eyed and disbelieving. you mirrored her shock, your palm still stinging. the silence that followed was suffocating, broken only by the harsh sound of both your breaths. ambessa had stepped out moments before—it was just the two of you now, suspended in the aftermath.

her lips parted as if to say something, but no words came.

your ticket was booked that afternoon, your bag packed by evening. you were gone before the sun had fully set.

𓇼

you close the shop early, your hands moving automatically as the weight of the day presses down on you.

the steady drag on your vape blurs the edges of your thoughts, a small comfort that does nothing to ease the growing ache in your chest. by the time you arrive home, the haze has lifted, but it leaves behind a sharp clarity: you’re alone. sadder than anything. the kind of heartbroken that settles deep in your bones and brings you down, quiet and constant like a low hum you can’t escape.

so you’re surprised when you’re met with a sleek range rover loitering in the parking lot outside your apartment complex.

you didn’t expect to see her this soon. or ever. didn’t want to. three weeks of silence, of space between you both, and you thought you were okay with it. you’d been fine with the quiet, with the absence. but there she is.

mel is right outside your building, sitting pretty and cross-legged in the backseat, the car’s headlights casting long, soft shadows over the cracked pavement. ambessa is sitting in the passenger seat, her face illuminated by the glow from the dashboard, and something about the way she holds herself makes it clear that she’s on the edge. she probably didn’t even want to do this. maybe she’d flown here for mel. maybe mel had flown here for you.

your chest tightens as you stand there, frozen for a moment, caught between the impulse to walk away and the need to understand what’s brought them here. you don’t move, just watch.

the undiscovered truth is that ambessa’s done this for both of you.

mel’s been struggling without you. she’s noticed it; this is her daughter after all. mel hasn’t said it outright, but ambessa can see it in the way her shoulders slump when she talks to anyone else, the small, tired smiles that don’t reach her eyes. she’s miserable without her best friend. and then—gradually—ambessa realized how much she needed you, too. wanted you.

the air between you and the car is heavy with guilt and longing. you can see it in mel’s face, too—how much she loves her mother, how she wants this to be different, even if she doesn’t quite know how to fix it.

and you? you feel a bit numb. maybe it’s the dredges of your vanilla buzz. the sadness in your chest, the loneliness, the quiet hope that maybe—just maybe—this could still work? it’s half dead, half living. you can’t tell if you’re ready to talk, to face what’s been left unsaid for so long. but you know one thing for sure: you’ve missed them both.

you keep standing there, rooted to the spot, watching the car like it’s some kind of omen. the silence feels louder than anything you’ve heard in weeks. ambessa remains in the passenger seat, her gaze distant, like she’s trying to work through something too. you don’t know what it is—whether it’s the weight of her possible regret or the silent pressure she’s putting on her daughter.

mel shifts in her seat, and then, before you can even brace yourself, she’s out of the car, the door slamming shut behind her. she’s standing in front of you now, her eyes wide with something that looks like hesitation.

“i didn’t know where else to go,” she says, her voice quiet but raw.

you don’t know what to say. the words that have been sitting in your throat for weeks suddenly seem impossible to spit out. you want to scream, to ask her why she didn’t come sooner, why it took so long. but all you can do is stand there, your chest tight and aching.

“you don’t have to say anything,” mel continues, her eyes darting between your face and the ground. “i just… i didn’t know what else to do. my mom’s…” she trails off, and there’s something in her voice—something that sounds like both love and frustration.

“she’s been miserable without you. i’ve been miserable without you.”

the admission hangs between you, thick and vulnerable. your breath catches in your throat. you didn’t know how much you missed her until this moment. you want to reach out, to pull her close, but you don’t. the ground between you both feels too fragile. finally, you speak.

“you deserve an apology too,” you croak out. “i shouldn’t have gone behind your back and i sure as hell should have never fucking hit you. it was unacceptable and i’m sorry, melly.”

her eyes grow bright and glassy with tears. she nods.

“i’m not going to say it’s fine because it’s not. but thank you for apologizing.”

you nod, resigned to another night of crying yourself to sleep.

i realized,” mel says wetly, “before this whole thing i’d never—i’d never seen you in love. i’ve never seen you that happy. i’m sorry for mocking that especially since you’ve never had that before, and it’s all you’ve ever wanted.”

you shrug, looking away.

“it’s how i’ve been living.”

before mel can say anything else, ambessa opens her door and steps out of the car. she’s quiet, her movements deliberate, but there’s something gentle in the way she walks toward you. she stops just a foot away, and without a word, she closes the gap and cups your face in her hands, her palms warm against your skin.

you blink, the shock of her touch overwhelming.

“i can’t believe you’re here,” you tell her, your voice cracking down the middle. “have you even been to california before?”

and it’s so stupid to say when you haven’t fucking seen her in months, haven’t stopped loving her for days, but ambessa only smiles. her eyes soften as she leans in, her lips brushing your forehead in a delicate.

“i’ve only ever tasted it,” she murmurs, her breath warm against your skin.

⚚ special taglist: @astarcalledtala @sugrcookiiee @16novvs @tnash-tammy @dyk3miffy @iwasholic @fruitfulfashion @absandsevikasgirl @blackdykegirlblogger @fortluocha @neganwifey25-blog @rottngrl3

#ambessa x you #ambessa x reader #ambessa x y/n #arcane ambessa #ambessa medarda #ambessa league of legends #ambessa the chosen of the wolf #ambessa smut #wlw smut #lesbian #sapphic #arcane smut #arcane fanfic #arcane x reader #wlw #female!reader #fem!reader #mine ; 🐎.

338 notes · View notes

kamiversee · 10 months ago

Text

➶-͙˚ ༘✶ 𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝙁*𝘾𝙆 𝙇𝙄𝙎𝙏

✧.* CHAPTER 36 || The Holiday Surprises

[ { SYPNOSIS } ] ➤ A tale in which Gojo Satoru blackmails you into seducing a list of people to clear his debt. Sounds easy enough, right?

[ { CHAPTER CONTENT } ] ➤ language & hella fluff.

[ { WORD COUNT } ] ➤ 4.4k

[ { PAIRINGS } ] ➤ jjk men x f!reader. gojo x f!reader. geto x f!reader. toji x f!reader. choso x f!reader. sukuna x f!reader. nanami x f!reader.

[ [ chapters mlist } ]

——DURING THE BREAK, you spent every day with Shoko just as you promised to before Christmas week. You went to see movies with her, went on a lovely shopping spree, and even got to meet one of her other friends, Utahime.

It was a wonderful week. You actually got to know Utahime very well and Shoko told you that she disliked Gojo just as much as you did, which is exactly what you and Utahime bonded over. It was girl's night after girl's night, an unstressful time spent with people you were fond of.

The whole thing was perfect and you loved it, cherishing every giggle, smile, and hug dearly within your heart. What more could you have wanted? Both women made your life feel at peace and you nearly forgot what it was like to have a female to conversate with.

You’d spent the semester distracted by Gojo and all the other guys that you forgot this feeling-- that warm fuzziness you get when they understand your troubles and support your silly delusions. You even told them about Choso, to which they both encouraged you to try speaking to him during the break.

Even Shoko, who is definitely rooting moreso for you and Gojo, was adamant on getting you to contact Choso. Utahime was a bit more skeptical about it, telling you that maybe you shouldn’t contact him if you’re not sure what you want.

Either way, you loved the fact that you had them to help you sort through your thoughts. Of course, you didn’t actually contact Choso but, talking to them about him felt like taking a weight off your shoulders.

Part of you wanted to tell them about Gojo and how he’s confessed to you but, you knew Shoko would be hellbent on convincing you to pick him over Choso. Or at least, that’s how she would’ve been before Christmas. After that day, you’re pretty sure the woman was just as conflicted about who you should choose as you.

However, she still doesn’t know that Gojo’s blackmailing you, which is something you have to keep reminding yourself about every time you weigh the pros and cons of each man.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆ .　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

Christmas week.

You went home to your family as scheduled and freed your mind of all (almost) all stress. Of course, your parents gave you their usual hell about not coming home often enough and not calling enough and etcetera. Even so, you still felt at peace at home.

Sometimes you Facetimed Shoko in your free time but most of your time at home was spent in tranquility.

You loved every second of it and it was full of joyful events that led up to Christmas day.

After a night of last-minute gift wrapping, you had woken up early in the morning and received a few expensive gifts from various family members. Most of it was gift cards, perfume, and from some people just straight cash. All of it was gratefully accepted and cherished though and you had a smile plastered all over your face the entire day.

In the afternoon, you decided to head home to Shoko, parting ways with your family with lots of don’t forget to call and make good choices being thrown at you before you left.

Before you knew it, you were right back in your apartment but Shoko wasn’t there. You stopped there to change your clothes as Shoko had earlier texted you and said that she was at Geto and Gojo’s place. So, once you were all dressed in comfortable sweats, you made your way there.

You don’t know why but, you were nervous about it. This would be your first time hanging out with the trio. You’d spent time with each of them individually of course but, never all three at the same time. This made you nervous for some reason.

Shoko doesn’t know about the list and you don’t want her to find out about it either. What happens if Gojo or Geto open their mouths about it? What happens if Geto brings up the fact that you had sex with him? Would Shoko view you as a slut for sleeping with both men at one point?

Would she not want to be your friend anymore? Would sh-

You huff out a heavy sigh and shake your thoughts away. It was Christmas day, there was no need to be overthinking like this. You were standing outside of the men’s apartment, holding a small, last-minute bag filled with a few gifts. After a gentle knock, the door swung open, and standing in front of you was Geto Suguru.

His dark locks of hair were loose, flowing down past his shoulders messily over the big sweater he wore. He looked really snug in his clothes. A sly smile spread across his handsome face as he took in your appearance, “Hey gorgeous, Merry Christmas.” He purred out in that soothing voice of his.

You couldn’t help but smile at the nickname never dropping, stepping into the apartment and moving to give him a hug, “Merry Christmas, Sugu.”

His arms wrap around your body in a tight hug and as the two of you part from each other, the smell of cookies fills your nose. When you turn around, Gojo’s standing not too far away, clearly not privy to you joining them for Christmas.

The two of you are frozen for a moment, simply staring at one another before a push is made to your lower back. You turn back to Geto for a split second, sending him a glare as you stumble toward Gojo. The raven-haired male chuckles and then turns to head toward his kitchen, leaving you and Gojo alone.

You look up at the tall man, his hair a fluffy mess almost as if he’d been lying down, and his eyes refusing to leave yours. After a slight sigh, you shuffle your feet closer to him before you’re barely an inch away from him.

Gojo’s breath hitches when your arms go up and around his neck as you hug him tenderly. His brain stutters to render the fact that you’re hugging him and it took him a second to wrap his arms around your waist. His face drops to the crook of your neck and he squeezes you in his arms.

“Merry Christmas, sweetheart,” Gojo whispers.

You’re smiling like crazy, his loving tone giving you butterflies, “Merry Christmas, Satoru.”

He pulls away, only slightly, turning his head to meet your eyes. The two of you were so close that to another person, it’d appear as though you were about to kiss. “I didn’t know you were coming.” He tells you.

You chuckle, “Maybe Shoko wanted to surprise you.”

“Best surprise ever.” Gojo comments, “You’re so beautiful…”

Heat rushes to your face and you ease your arms down from around his neck, “Thank you-”

The sound of your name being called by Shoko makes both of you flinch as if you were caught doing something you had no business doing. Both of you shuffle off of each other and try to act inconspicuous.

Shoko bursts out laughing dramatically, having seen the entire thing and finding it hilarious how the two of you try to act like you weren’t a few inches away from making out. “You guys are so cute, I can’t.” Shoko giggles.

She then approaches the two of you and in the blink of your eye, Gojo is shoved out of the way, stumbling into a nearby wall. Shoko’s arms go out and up a little and you smile at her before jumping into her arms dramatically.

She hugs you tighter and harder than either of the guys did, even going as far as lifting you and spinning you around-- all of which is done because she’s happy to see you again after a week of separation. The two of you are laughing and giggling in each other’s arms and Gojo has a frown on his face at the way he got shoved to the side.

When the two of you stop, Shoko moves to grab your hands as she speaks to you, “Merry Christmas roomie! I got you the best gift!”

You chuckle at her enthusiasm, she’s usually more relaxed than this so it’s nice to see her express so much emotion. “Merry Christmas,” Your smile widens, “What’d you get me?”

“You’ll see in a few minutes,” She says releasing your hands and nodding her head toward the living room, “We already opened a few but there’s still more.”

“Did you guys wait for me?” You ask as you begin following behind her.

Both of you continue your small talk, completely forgetting about Gojo who's shocked you’re even here. He grumbles to himself at the fact that Shoko came and stole you from him so swiftly.

The three of you end up in the living room, Geto is heard in the kitchen baking away as he hums to whatever Christmas songs were playing. You and Shoko are talking and giggling about the things she’s gotten so far and she complains about how Geto bought her a pack of cigarettes.

You laugh with her, knowing that she’s definitely grateful for the gift based on the unwavering smile plastered on her face the entire time she catches you up on what’s happened while you weren’t there.

“Oh, and I also know what the albino got you,” Shoko exclaims, a bigger smile growing on her face as she speaks about it.

Your eyebrows raise and you glance over to Gojo, who is sitting on one of the nearby couches scrolling through his phone, “What’d he get me?” You ask, turning your head back to Shoko.

She leans closer to you to whisper, “He got you a-”

“Shoko if you tell her, I’m cutting your hair off and flushing all your cigs’.” Gojo interrupts as a pillow goes flying across the room, landing right into the woman’s face.

She fumes, jokingly, and snatches the pillow up before launching it back to the man, “I dare you,” She shouts at the man, making him laugh as the pillow smacks him in the face.

The two start bickering back and forth and you’re laughing at the display of them partaking in a quick pillow war, instead of a pillow fight-- launching and smacking each other with any nearby pillows. As they do that, you take that as your chance to slip out and check on Geto.

Making your way out of the living room, you quickly head to the kitchen and catch the man pulling cookies out of the oven with a silly apron on. You’ve got a bag in your hands that holds his gift, seeing now as a perfect time to give it to him since Shoko told you there’s no set time on when gifts needed to be exchanged.

Geto notices you as he places the tray of cookies on the counter, flashing you a smile as you approach him, “Sounds like they’re destroying the living room again,” He comments.

You chuckle, “Again?”

“They had a play fight last night over gift wrap,” Geto hums, moving to rid his hands of the oven mitts he wore.

“Why am I not surprised?” You laugh, coming to a stop beside the male, your eyes scanning over the mouth-watering sugar cookies lying on a decorative tray, “Ouu these look good.”

“They should be,” Geto hums, turning his head to look at you instead of the cookies. His eyes drop to the bag in your hands, “S’that for me?”

You turn and look at him, smiling, “Yeah but, it’s more like a last-minute gift. It’s nothing amazing, just something silly.”

He appears to be intrigued, “Silly? My best friend is Gojo Satoru, I’m used to these kinda’ gifts.” Geto says with a casual shrug.

The bag in your hands is extended out to the man and he takes it from you gratefully, quickly moving to open it. Your smile grows and grows, mischief embedded into your eyes as you watch him take out what you got for him.

As the item comes out of the box, Geto stares in disbelief for a second and then laughs. “Oh hell no. If you think I’m putting this on, you’re going to be very disappointed.”

“Oh c’monnnnn Suguruuu, you have long hair.” You say, trying to convince him, “Just wear one? For me? Pleeease?”

“No.” Geto declines, dropping the item back into the bag.

You pout, “That’s not nice, Sugu. I went out of my way to pick that out just for you.”

He looks up from the bag and to your pleading eyes, “Did you?”

“Yes,” You sigh, moving to reach into the bag and drag the item out, “I can even put it on for you.”

Geto scoffs, “Yeah, no.”

The man then tries turning away from you but you extend a handout and grab ahold of his sweater, tugging him back toward you.

“Pretty please?” You beg, making him sigh loudly.

His back is to you now but he peers down at you over his shoulder, “I don’t like you.”

You beam, “Is that a yes?!”

“You’re just as annoying as Satoru, y’know that right?” Geto groans, turning his head to face forward, “Fine.”

Your eyes light up and the man hands a hair tie back to you. You giggle as you take it from him and then raise your hands up to do his hair. Slowly, you both walk a bit out of the kitchen and then you continue your actions.

Tying half of his hair up, like he usually does, instead of putting it into a bun, you leave it loose and then place your gift into his hair. The man grits his teeth as he feels you do so, already disliking his agreeance to this.

“Aaaand, done. It’s so pretty, Suguru!” You say happily.

“I’m taking it out in an hour.” He says grumpily.

“You didn’t even see how it looks yet!” You happily point out as you move to get a picture of the sight with your phone. His back is still to you and he doesn’t actually care if you take a picture.

He rolls his eyes, “You put a pink bow in my hair, I think I can picture what it looks like just fine.”

His words make you laugh excessively. You love how grumpy he sounds about it, “This is what you get for stealing my things.”

Geto pouts, “I was gonna give them back…”

“Yeah? When?” You ask, not believing him in the slightest.

“Today,” He tells you.

Your expression sinks, “Don’t tell me that was my Christmas gift…”

The man smirks, “It was.”

“You are such a pervert.”

“Howww?” He starts laughing, “I’m returning your things. Don’t worry, it’s all clean.”

“Y’know what, just for that,” Your hands go to his shoulders and you force him to turn around, pushing him toward the living room, “Everyone’s gonna see the pretty bow I just put in your hair.”

“Holy shit,” He chuckles and tries resisting your pushing, “W-Wait I-”

The man’s face goes bright red as he’s shoved into the living room. Shoko and Gojo were mid-pillow attacks when they both froze and looked over to the raven-haired male. For only a second, everyone’s still and quiet.

“G-God damnit,” Geto mutters, bringing a hand to his face and turning to the side.

Shoko bursts out in laughter, chuckling so hard that she falls over and has to hold her stomach to catch her breath.

Gojo’s snickering as he looks at his friend, “Suguru… Is…” He chuckles, “Is that a bow in your hair?”

“I hate all of you.” Geto groans, rolling his eyes at Shoko and Gojo’s obnoxious laughter filling the air.

Then there’s you giggling behind him, “It’s cute!”

“Shut up.” The male muttered before dragging his feet toward a nearby couch to plop down.

You join him and the other two, all of you beginning to tease Geto about the pretty pink bow in his hair. The man is so embarrassed about it but at some point he smiles, giving in to the humor in it all.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆ .　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

As the laughter died down, all four of you chatted for a while-- giggling and smiling about some more silly gifts that were exchanged.

Shoko got Gojo this huge Christmas hat and then teased him about being Santa’s long-lost brother or something. Aside from that, the rest of the gifts were pretty normal but the four of you still had fun through it all.

You got Shoko a gift card, which she cherished as if it was the best thing she received all day. The woman hugged you and snuggled up into your body for a while, telling you how you were the best roommate she could’ve ever asked for. You gushed at her words and the two of you would laugh and laugh-- the men feeling left out as they watched you both.

They’d even dramatically roll their eyes at the display of affection but truthfully, Gojo adored seeing you so happy and Geto loved having his friends all in one place like this. Everything was so perfect.

And it only got better.

Because later on, after Geto privately found a moment to give you your gift, the four of you were still in the living room and all of you had eaten cookies and watched a Christmas movie together.

Gojo saved his gift for you until the movie was over and by that time, it was slowly fading into nighttime.

With a slight huff, Gojo stood up from the couch and headed to his room for a moment. Shoko was resting her head on your shoulder, her eyes blindly staring at whatever auto-played on the TV ahead. Meanwhile, Geto picked up his phone and began to scroll through it.

After a few minutes, Gojo returns to the three of you and you and him make eye contact. He’s got a bag in his hand and is careful to make his way toward you.

When he does, he doesn’t realize he’s standing in front of Shoko until she says something, “Dude, you’re not made of glass.” She hums, ignoring the fact that he was clearly only standing there for you.

You chuckle and angle your head up a bit, seeing that Gojo doesn’t budge and instead holds the bag out for you to take. You shake your head at how he ignores Shoko and then sit up, causing her to slip off your shoulder.

The woman groans and then shifts to sit herself up properly, “You’re both annoying,” She says harmlessly before moving to her feet and going to sit on another couch.

Gojo smiles victoriously and then plops down right where Shoko had been, “Got somethin’ for ya’, sweetheart.” He says to you.

You carefully take the bag from his hands, trying not to smile already even though you don’t know what it is. “What is it?” You ask.

“Open it and find out,” Gojo hums.

He shifts so that his body is facing yours, bringing one leg up onto the couch and then moving his arm to the back of the couch so that he can rest his head against his knuckles. With a sigh, you place the bag in your lap and then reach into it.

You weren’t sure what to expect. He said he didn’t even know you were coming so he couldn’t have gotten you anything too thoughtful, right? It’s probably some cash or something along that line…

Geto had placed his phone down and turned his head to the two of you, somewhat excited to see your reaction. And, you didn’t know it but, Shoko was also watching with just as much excitement.

Out of the box, you pulled a pretty red jewelry box out. A hand quickly came up to your mouth as you gasped. It was a rather large box and it was so obvious that there was a necklace inside.

“Satoru… You didn’t…” You whisper in shock.

He smirks, his eyes all over you, “I did. C’mon, open it already, love.”

Your heart skipped a beat due to the nickname and you took a deep breath before opening the jewelry box. Revealed to you was a simple yet dazzling necklace.

Your jaw dropped a little as you looked at the item. There was a pretty white silver chain that led to a small, clearly diamond-encrusted pendant that had a slight sparkle under the lighting. It wasn’t too extravagant or anything but the gift itself struck your heart just right.

You were tearing up for some unknown reason as you stared at it, “I… S-Satoru is this real?” You whispered in disbelief, slowly turning to the man.

Gojo looked at ease, nodding his head slightly, “Of course it’s real.”

“This is…” You turn and look back down at the item, almost too scared to touch it.

He leans closer to you, only a little, “Want’ me to put it on for you?” He offers thoughtfully.

Too stunned to speak, you just nod your head. Gojo moved carefully as he reached for the necklace and you moved around to turn your back to him once he had it. As you did so, you found yourself facing Geto who watched the two of you contently.

You felt Gojo’s fingers against your hair, slipping your hair out of the way, if any, and then shifting the jewelry around you. The slight coldness of the metal hitting your skin made you flinch slightly but as you felt Gojo’s fingertips graze your neck, your nerves steadily died down.

He then shamelessly leaned forward and placed a kiss on the nape of your neck as the piece of jewelry was clasped around you.

Geto winks at you, “It looks good on you,” He compliments.

You’re smiling nonstop, “Thank you.”

Gojo pulls away from your neck and hums out a simple, “Done.”

You turn your body around to face him and see Shoko smiling in the corner of your eye. She was going to say something but she stopped herself as she watched the way your arms flew around Gojo’s neck as you hugged him.

The embrace was so strong and forward that Gojo fell back onto the couch with you landing right on top of him. Your body lay against his muscular one, his legs spread as yours positioned in between them. Even though he fell, you didn’t care, squeezing onto the man tightly as a thanks.

Gojo chuckled and you could feel his heart pounding against his chest as he wrapped his arms around your waist.

“Thank you, Satoru,” You whisper, unconsciously nuzzling into the man, “It’s beautiful, I love it.”

He swallows hard at your words, his heart fluttering in his chest as he chuckles. “I’m glad you like it, sweets.” Gojo hums, shifting his head so that he can whisper in your ear, “I love you.”

The words make your eyes widen and you suddenly move to lift yourself up. You don’t get off of him, simply placing your hands at the side of his head and hovering over the male. His face is completely red at the sight of you over him and you see his breathing grow a bit heavier.

Both of you glance down at each other’s lips at the same time and you both are actually about to kiss, regardless of Shoko or Geto being right there in the room with the two of you. You never wanted to kiss Gojo so bad. There was this sudden desire to just plaster his face with kisses as a thank you for the beautiful piece of jewelry he’d gifted you with.

Getting lost in the moment, you even started to lean down to the man and he looked like he had no plans on stopping you.

Unfortunately, the sudden buzzing of your phone in your pocket stopped you and the two of you finched out of your little daze. You blinked out of your ridiculous thoughts and pushed yourself all the way up, moving off of Gojo and giving him space. You sat back on your heels and he sat up, raising a brow at what it was that ruined the moment.

You stuff your hand into your pocket to find out, pulling your cell out and glancing at the screen. Your eyes went completely wide and your jaw dropped for a second time that night.

You slap a hand over your mouth, “Oh my god.” You murmured, moving to shoot up to your feet.

Geto raised a brow, Gojo batted his eyelashes at you, and Shoko sent you a confused look.

You only made eye contact with Shoko, “It’s him.” You whispered in disbelief.

Her eyes light up and she sits up a little from her slouched position, “Him, as in…?” She raised a brow, sending you a you know who look.

You nodded frantically, your hand shaking a little. You then glanced down at Gojo, who surprisingly had a smile on his face.

The man nudged your leg, “Go on, go talk to him, sweetheart.” Gojo encouraged.

With another shocked bat of your eyelashes, you nod briefly and then rush out of the living room while raising your phone to your ear. Your heart was pounding, throbbing even as you shakily held up the phone.

“H-Hello?” You stammered as you walked into the kitchen.

You could hear everything. The parting of those plush lips of his, the sharp inhale he takes, and even the faint shake in his deep voice as he spoke.

“Merry Christmas, baby,” Choso uttered with that sweet voice of his.

Folded. In half. Literally. You had to bring another hand over your mouth to cover the way his voice, the nickname, and the entire interaction made you all giggly and flustered in a matter of seconds.

Crouching down slightly, you almost didn’t reply as you replayed his voice in your mind over and over. God you missed it more than you realized you did.

“F-Fuck,” You curse softly, chuckling afterward, “Merry Christmas, Cho.”

You couldn’t see it but, he smiled happily at the sound of your voice-- the two of you having an equal effect on each other. He too had to cover his mouth for a second, as if that would stop the gushing smile on his face.

“Shit,” Choso hums, “I uh…” His brain stammers to figure out what to say, “A-Are uhm… Are you free right now by any chance?”

You just barely glance over toward the direction of the living room, “Not exactly but, t-that can probably change. Why?”

The man bites his lower lip for a moment in thought. Choso releases his lip and then holds back his smile as he voices his next words calmly, “I wanna see you.”

GOJO SATORU ✔︎ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: 𝙀𝙖𝙨𝙮

GETO SUGURU ✔︎ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: 𝙀𝙖𝙨𝙮

TOJI FUSHIGURO ✔︎ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: 𝙈𝙚𝙙𝙞𝙪𝙢

KAMO CHOSO ✔︎ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: 𝙎𝙚𝙢𝙞-𝙈𝙚𝙙𝙞𝙪𝙢 / 𝙀𝙖𝙨𝙮

ZEN'IN NAOYA ✔︎ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: 𝙀𝙭𝙩𝙧𝙚𝙢𝙚𝙡𝙮 𝙀𝙖𝙨𝙮

ITADORI SUKUNA ✔︎ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: 𝙎𝙚𝙢𝙞-𝙀𝙖𝙨𝙮???

NANAMI KENTO ☐ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: 𝙃𝙖𝙧𝙙

mlist || previous chapt || next chpt

599 notes · View notes

berryardens · 4 months ago

Text

As we step into 2024, the world of perfume is evolving with fresh innovations and emerging trends that promise to excite fragrance enthusiasts everywhere. From sustainable practices to bold new scent profiles, the upcoming year is set to bring a variety of changes to how we experience and enjoy perfumes. Here are the top 10 perfume trendsto keep an eye on in 2024

1 note · View note

an-au-blog · 1 month ago

Text

Au where Nami and Zoro pretend to date because Nami is sick of men hitting on her and saying she's "too pretty to be a lesbian" and Zoro owns her too much money to say no, plus it's a low effort way to pay her off. Most of the time he's just "scary dog privilege", but on the occasion he has to fight someone off, it's nice training. He also cares about her as a friend but wouldn't be caught dead admitting it.

They meet Sanji and he's extremely jealous that dumb buffoons like Zoro get all the beautiful and witty ladies. He hates Zoro and keeps throwing sarcastic remarks towards him, which translates to him flirting with the man.

One day he tells Nami that he's so jealous that it makes him angry. Following it up with "I'm not saying I want you to break-up, please forgive me for suggesting I'd ever wish anything but happiness for you, Nami dear!" Not specifying who he was jealous of made Nami think that Sanji was one of those snappy gays with no filter. I mean... how could he not be? He's discussed his twenty step skincare routine with her, he's always dresst to the t, he smells of expensive perfume all the time - naming brands and gossip about the company owners like it's his full time job, he speaks french in cursive and moves like a ribbon in the wind. And all her doubts that he didn't like men flew out the window the moment Zoro was in the room. Not only was he sizing him up, not only did he use any excuse to poke his biceps or chest or forehead, not only did she catch the two talking out back, Sanji blowing smoke in Zoro's face (out of spite but they both thought it was flirting), but as the cherry on top, Sanji would always, ALWAYS draw a little heart on Zoro's coffee.

Nami never got coffee for herself, she preferred tea, or most of the time she'd just get a protein shake. But Sanji always assumed the muscle head would want the protein shake.

Of course, Nami manages to force Zoro into bribing her, making his debt bigger as she told him that after this she'd be left without a guard dog so it needed to be extra expensive. She told him Sanji liked him back and that he told her himself. So the next time Zoro met Sanji, he kissed him. Granted, it was without a warning so the slap wasn't unexpected, but then Sanji got angry at him because "HOW DARE YOU CHEAT ON NAMI-SAN LIKE THAT!" And he went on a tangent, fighting him (one of the best sparring sessions Zoro had in a while) and it all just made Zoro like Sanji even more. He cared so much, he was so strong and loyal... Finally, he managed to explain the situation, to which Sanji sighed "yeah, she's too good to be with a man... I should have guessed..." and then confusedly asking why the kiss.

#this kinda became another coffee shop au #...oops #zosan #sanzo #zs #zsz #op

252 notes · View notes

cliosunshine · 13 days ago

Text

I was in a perfumery the other day and I was looking over the men's perfumes out of curiosity and it got me thinking...what colognes do you guys think Dick, Jason and Bruce would wear?

I think that Bruce would 100% wear a very expensive and niche cologne made specifically for him by the finest parfmumiers in Paris and it would smell so intoxicating and alluring, like a mix of spices with something fresh added to them. Everybody already hangs on every word the billionare utters, but especially during the galas he hosts, you know Bruce Wayne is in the room when you catch a whiff of the sexiest fragrance that you've ever smelled: it screams money and power, and you can see men straightening their ties and women fixing their hair and makeup in their compact mirrors (I was thinking about something similar to Essential Ato Natura or Luna Rossa Ocean by Prada ughhh).

Dick wouldn't wear something too similar to Bruce, and it would also be a more accessible fragrance, so whenever he finishes his bottle he can go buy another at the nearest boutique. It has more freshness to it: it's probably a mix of citrus and musk/ woody notes that is not too overpowering and it has a subtle depth to it. It turns heads on the streets as people would associate this scent with a man who's confident and has a fun, ougoing personality. He's a prople pleaser and an extrovert, but he can also be an assertive when needed (Dylan Blue by Versace or Light Blue by Dolce&Gabbana anyone?), but I can also see him wearing the most fuck boy scents ever, like Sauvage by Dior or Bleu de Chanel. He's well aware that everybody wears them, but he can't help the smug smile on his face when yet another girl at the bar approaches him and compliments him for smelling so good.

Now, Jason's difficult. He would already smell very fainlty of gunpowder (and cigarette smoke if you headcanon him as a smoker) and leather. It doesn't matter how many showers he takes or how much he scrubs his skin raw, the scent still lingers on him. He definitely wouldn't like to wear soemthing too fresh or sweet or anything like that as it would probably give him a headache. He would want a scent that only him and his partner and someone that is directly in front of him could smell. He already hates being so big that it makes people double take, so he would never wear something with a lot of projection. I think he'd lean more on notes that he is familiar with and that bring him comfort and security, so he'd definitely wear something with a leathery smell to it, mixed with bonfire/ tobacco middle notes and underneath all that, maybe (and only maybe) a relatively discreet bourbon vanilla - not overtly sweet, but cozy and comforting. Like Jason Todd and Red Hood themselves, it would be a very polarizing scent: some would hate it, while others would chase it, greedy to catch another whiff of that masculine and deep fragrance that is uniquely him (Dark Rebel Rider by John Varvatos, By the Fireplace and/ or Jazz Club by Maison Margiela...maybe also Leather Oud by Dior?)

I just want to bury my face in the crook of their necks and sniff them pleaseeee please please please ughhhhhhh

#thoughts #I love a good smelling man #jason todd x reader #dick grayson x reader #bruce wayne x reader #dc x reader

151 notes · View notes

itsthatmff · 5 months ago

Note

helllooo, can you write boyfriends headcanons with other men like flashy flash and amai mask please? ~

IM FINALLY BACK WITH MORE HEADCANONS! writing for these was so hard- it was my first time doing amai mask too- I hope they turned out well 😩

Please keep the requests incoming I’ll try to work through them! I’m sorry for taking so long and Thank you so much for the patience.

Boyfriend Headcanons on OPM men Pt. 2

Fem!reader

Included: Flashy flash, Amai mask, Saitama, Zombie man

Flashy Flash

Having him as a boyfriend sure isn’t for the weak

He’s definetly the leader of the sassy man apocalypse

He takes his night routine SERIOUSLY like you will have a 20 step hair routine and a spa session

He gives great hair care tips though

Lets you braid his hair when you’re bored or does your hair when you’re tired

Gossiping with him is super fun

When he’s annoyed or jealous he scoffs a lot

Tiny bit reluctant over physical affection but his hugs and kisses feel so gentle, you could melt into them.

He goes all out when you’re on your period, like he knows exactly what you need and what to do.

Gifts you hairclips on random occasions !

Doesn’t like you touching his katana cuz he’s worried you’ll hurt yourself.

You get the best dates with him because he knows the best spots, prefers staying at home with you though in case one of his opps are after him.

He does bicker with you from time to time because he knows you too well and can’t be bothered to deal with your overdramatic ass

"Yeah fine we get it you’re just angry because you’re craving some desserts. Stop whining and lets go get it.“

Amai Mask

Might seem like a narcissistic and selfish bastard at first but he really just has issues

As a boyfriend he might not be able to spend much time with you since he is a hero AND a celebrity with a filled schedule

Makes sure to spoil you rotten tho

You get expensive gifts from him on a weekly basis and he takes you out to the best restaurants

He has to be very discreet with your relationship since it could cause him a bad reputation and backlash from the media

Whenever he’s overwhelmed or had a bad day he seeks comfort in your embraces

Feels like you’re the only one who understands him

Genuinely opens up to you and shows you his vulnerable side from time to time

He gets VERY jealous like he better not catch you admiring some other hero

At first he’d laugh it off not wanting to believe such a thing but slowly the jealousy would start creeping up

“You’re mine understood?”

Is just scared of u leaving him

He calls to tell you there’s a new magazine out that features him and wants you to buy it.

Thinks you’re his biggest supporter and likes to brag about you.

Saitama

Dates consist of gaming or getting deals at different supermarkets

I can totally imagine that he’s willing to try some new things at the convenience store with you and do taste tests.

Never rates the food a 10/10 cuz he thinks Genos could do it better.

YES sometimes Genos DOES make dinner dates for you two, he goes all out making a 5 star dinner for his sensei and his girlfriend.

Saitama secretly loves it when you come and sit on his lap as he watches tv.

He may not look like it but he really notices the small details, like he’ll ask if you put on different perfume or shampoo. Does it so sleek too.

He’d lean in to your neck and WHISPER INTO YOUR EAR

"Hm..you smell so good, got a new perfume?“

This guy just knows how to get you flustered

Is very nonchalant about most things, doesn’t really get jealous. (Unless you’re being overly nice to someone that has like really good hair)

“Yo genos. How much do you think a hair transplant costs?”

“Why are you asking sensei?”

“No reason really..” as he GLARES at the guy you’re talking to.

Doesn’t call you often, more like he randomly texts you what he’s doing and if your schedule matches his you both hangout.

Wants to climb up the ranks in order to impress you and loves to tell you about his day when he gets home.

Gets the most expressive around you.

He kicks out Genos when you two need your private time.

Gives the best piggy back rides.

Zombieman

Hands down the best boyfriend out there

He’s so chill about everything

Likes to take you everywhere with him, especially on shooting ranges, coffee shops or jazz bars

Respects your boundaries a lot, if you don’t like the smoke from his cigarettes he’ll try not to smoke around you, if you’re a smoker yourself he always looks forward to smoke some with you.

You both have a very casual relationship, there’s no awkwardness at all nor the cheesiness and pampering

That also includes physical affection. Cuddling on the couch or holding hands seems natural to you.

As nihilistic as he is, he can’t hide whenever he’s jealous.

“Was it fun chatting to that human?” He’d ask whilst pressing down the last remaining of his cigarette onto the whiskey glass. He wasn’t upset, more like curious of what you saw in another man.

Only calls you in the evenings after he walks you home. Likes to hear your voice before he goes to sleep.

He loves to get you roses

Asks childish emperor for advice on what to get you. Doesn’t even realise himself that he slips in your name in every conversation.

Is the kind of boyfriend that is happy enough to just watch you from afar.

Never ever gets aggressive with you. In fact you’ve never seen him angry.

Likes to polish his guns while you sit on his lap.

393 notes · View notes

astrogre · 10 months ago

Text

Aphrodite(1388) Beauty Indicators

What counts as Aphrodite(1388) beauty indicators:

Aphrodite in 1st house (YOU are appealing, this asteroid is simply who you are as this house represents you as a whole, physically and personal identity)

Aphrodite in 10th house (this is how you publicly appear to others at large, so if you have an asteroid here it kind of shows those themes come to mind in general when people think of you and what your reputation is associated with, imagine yourself as a concept, you perceived as a brand)

Aphrodite Conjunct Venus (your beauty and the way you style express yourself, you express your love and sense of beauty in similar ways, Venus also shows where we are most beautiful therefore the things that make you most beautiful are like Aphrodites)

VERY Strong indicators:

Aphrodite Conjunct ASC (it further amplifies because you become the physical embodiment of Aphrodite, no longer just a hint but may even be mistaken for her your form of expression and how you come across to all and most importantly yourself is just like Aphrodite)

Aphrodite Conjunct MC (same as 10H however it’s even more prominent, your Aphrodite characteristics may manifest or be needed for the job you do as well)

Aphrodite conjunct is at 0-2 orbs. Closer the orb more exactly like your appearance. 0 orb means Aphrodite is YOU to a T. Your physical appearance/public image/expression of oneself, if described with an adjective would be the asteroid itself.

2 or more of any of the previous Aphrodite indicators this asteroid is far too prominent in your chart to be an adjective to describe your beauty, it’s more like an epithet.

What kind of beauty you have:

- You embody the ideal beauty standards

- You shapeshift to appeal to the senses and pleasures of individuals who look at you

- People may struggle to define you by your appearance because you come across so differently to each person

- The allure (the buzz and positive talk of you) stands out more than what you put out to reality especially for Aphrodite asteroid in 10H/conjunct to MC

- You’re beauty is so rare that it’s unbelievable, people that hear of you described by others who know you may think you’re a myth or not real like a catfish or someone pretending to be real. Eg someone looking at your instagram may think you’re not real or if a guy is explaining you to his friends you sound too good to be true especially from the male gaze. That is until they meet you and realise you live up to their expectations and then the rumours of you further amplify as even MORE talk of you. If you start dating around jumping from man to man, people will gush over you

- You may pretend to be modest, demure and coincidentally sexually attractive yet your sexual attractiveness is purposefully intentional

this is based on aphrodites Greek and Latin scholars who wrote about the famous statue at Knidos on which it is based, says that Aphrodite’s facial expression and gesture show ‘false modesty’. She purposefully displays false modesty to look like her nudity and sexual allure is unintentional and just happens to be on her

- You show your beauty through your clothing perfumes and hair accessories. Aphrodite wore perfumed and silken garments, a crown of gold or flowers in her hair, and had expensive jewellery covering her body

- As time goes on you are more sexualised, no joke if you guys made a sex tape in your elder years you’d be like a trending milf dilf, especially with Capricorn, Saturn and 10H Aphrodite

Aphrodites depictions were always fully clothed until as centuries progressed the men that idolised her wanted to make her wear less and less, become sexier and sexier, they project their lustful thoughts on her and Aphrodite viewed it as compliments

- No matter what people may say about you, they cannot shake or change the fact that you are beautiful, they may also bring that up when talking about you behind your back if in 12H conjunct ascendant

- You have feminine curves which are shown best through draped clothing, you look best in clothes that drape to your skin and hug your curves

- No matter what you wear people will always see you nude or want to, they may sexualise you and you may subconsciously enjoy it because you feel desired and it feels good to know you’re making others feel pleasure just from looking at you

- You look best naked, your breast and hips may be most prominent and something men recognise you for and what garners admiration from women too. Women may look up to you as the standard and what they wished the looked like

Source: the idealization of womanhood in all her femininity; the Aphrodite sculpture, Praxiteles was mainly responsible for establishing the type-sensuous in its soft curves and voluptuousness.” (Morford 180). As told by Morford, the exaggeration of body parts, breasts mostly, became Aphrodite’s spotting mark in art

- You could have long hair, or your hair can be styled in a different way to other women, very distinct, it can be different from what others expect, your hair may be “immodest” like it looks like it’s uncovered, not domestic, you may put a lot accessories on it or do something specifically that makes it stand out and look better, it’s kind of “unintentionally” erotic.

- You look best in bodies of water, playing with your hair in water, when you’re showering, wringing your hair dry, you may get a lot of stares when you go to the beach just relaxing, or if you’re swimming. It’s something people could watch for a long time

- You love to accessorise excessively

- Men change the way they see you physically from your body to your face and hair, all just to fit their imagined ideal beauty standards. For an example: say a man may prefer brunettes, if you’re blonde, that man will imagine you with brown dark hair and romanticise it, from that point onward he can no longer see you as blonde no matter how blonde you are because the fantasy of an idolised you is so overwhelming

- Men fantasise about you a lot, women too. You invoke fear/admiration into women because of your appearance

- You represent the most ideal physical traits, you can be compared as the standard for others and people may put you on a pedestal so high that makes others want to be where you are but knowing they simply cannot as it’s not in their nature. Because competing against you would destroy them and they do not compare

- You may make people feel ashamed of themselves because you’re so uplifted and idealised by many

- You can adapt to the taste of the target/person you’re trying to seduce

- Your clothes and the way you style yourself enhance your features and make you look like someone who is wealthy and important of high status/nobility

- You are one of the most physically desired people to others

- Your physical appearance isn’t the only thing that makes you so beautiful, it’s the fact that everyone finds you desireable no matter who is looking.

Honestly when I think of Aphrodite I think of someone who is overly sexualised by men. Like they collectively came together and said THIS is what we like. She is the image of sex and desire because they put her there. And she likes it, which is probably why she is labelled as the god of sex, pleasure, love and beauty, it’s because she accepts all kinds of admiration from anyone. No matter how degrading or intensely it manifests. Do you too also accept love no matter how sexually degrading or intense it is? Do you have a tendency to expect to be glorified?

Source:

Link to the historical study of Aphrodites physical appearance

Homer, for example, said that the goddess could be recognized by her shining eyes and “desirable breasts.” Other writers gave her the epithet “Smile-Loving,” indicating that she often had a happy expression. More often, writers described Aphrodite’s beauty through her clothing. She wore perfumed and silken garments, a crown of gold or flowers in her hair, and had expensive jewelry covering her body. most of what we know about Aphrodite’s looks must be drawn from the art of the period.

gain, the representations leave much room for interpretation. The one aspect they have in common is that, fittingly, Aphrodite was shown as beautiful.

This usually meant that she had feminine curves, which were often accentuated by closely-draped clothing. When she was dressed it was often only partially, but the goddess was just as often shown in the nude.

She usually had long hair that was left at least partially down, in contrast to the more demure, covered hair of matronly and domestic goddesses. A favorite subject of classical artists was the emergence of Aphrodite from the sea, in which she was sometimes shown wringing the water out of her long hair.

Sculptors had more freedom than painters to imagine the goddess in different poses and situations. Often these poses emphasized her feminine shape and attractiveness to the male gaze. As the goddess of beauty, she represented the most desirable female form possible.

She often changed her appearances to suit her purposes.

This shape-shifting also allowed artists to portray her in a way that reflected the physical idea of their own time and place. Aphrodite could have dark hair in one place and be blonde in another.

Thus, our modern interpretation of Aphrodite has been filtered through the ideals of female beauty from not only Greece and Rome, but long after as well. Medieval artists gave her a high forehead and Renaissance painters showed her with flowing blonde hair because those were the ideals of their times. The written descriptions of Aphrodite were open-ended enough to allow artists to show her in a way they thought was beautiful for centuries. While later artists were influenced by the paintings and sculptures of Rome and Greece, they had the license to show the goddess of beauty in a way that made sense within their own cultures.

Most often, Aphrodite’s clothing and jewelry were described in greater detail than her body or facial features. The richness of her garments and adornments both enhanced her features and signalled her nobility.

The lack of written detail meant that artists were able to portray Aphrodite in a way they felt was beautiful. While these typically followed certain conventions, these conventions could vary between regions and time periods. Aphrodite/Venus was therefore shown with certain marks of beauty that had persisted from the ancient world, but also with the features and clothing considered ideal in the artists’ own times. She could be recognized not by a specific feature, but by her desirabilithy.

560 notes · View notes

justaaveragereader · 2 months ago

Text

Red Light Special

Pairing: Ateez x Reader x Skz

Word Count: 3.4K

Warnings: Dom!Reader, All Of The Members Are Subby, Readers A Sex Worker, Bukkake, Slight Mutual Masterbation, Exhibitionism, Slight Nipple Play, Reader Is A Maneater/Homewrecker, Stripping, Fingering, Virgin!Jisung, Clit Play, Pantie Sniffing, Hwa Uses Readers Bra To Jerk Off, Name Calling (Pretty Boy, Good Boys..), Reader Has A Corruption Kink, Cum Eating, If I Missed Anything👀…Lemme Know

A/N: This is my final submission for the amazing @whatudowhennooneseesyou 2024 Kinktober! I will add the link below to the masterlist, as it is 100% worth reading. My second time writing for a group that wasn’t Ateez so hopefully I did Skz some justice, I was inspired to write an Ateez bukkake fic while writing this, which I will post soon. I hope you all enjoy the fic🖤, make sure to go check out the masterlist, and go give the other writers lots of love! Now..onto the fic👏!

Kinktober 2024 Masterlist

As the bass to the music in the club filled your ears you leaned in closer to your manager, as you could barely hear him as he spoke.

“I’m assigning you to room 1117, it’s a bachelor party, a group of 16 is coming in. We are going to give them the red light special.”

With a head nod, you begin to gather your things, wanting to touch up your makeup before heading back to the room, when your manager grabs you.

“They say the groom is a virgin.” With a small gasp of shock you lean in closer to your manager to make sure you heard him correctly.

“A virgin? And he's getting married?”

Nodding his head he looks at you shocked, not believing the information himself. As you bite your lip in thought, you shake your head with a small shrug to your shoulders.

“This will be fun, you know I love them dumb, and desperate.” You say with a small chuckle, backing away from your manager as he grabs you once more..

“They paid a lot of money for the red room, so make sure you give them all a good time. Big tippers, very very big tippers.” He says once more before backing away from you, and making his way to the bar. With a small shimmy of glee you make your way towards the locker rooms, making sure to put on your most expensive perfume, and skimpiest outfit, there was only one thing you loved more than men who spend a lot, which was men who tip just as much.

“Is this a good idea?” Jisung whispers out, as Wooyoung grips his shoulders pushing him towards room 1117. With a small cackle he rolls his eyes, the other members trailing closely behind him.

“Trust me, I came here for my bachelor party, I had the best time.” He says, a hint of mischief in his tone had Jisung nervous, all the members agreeing, sharing back and forth how they came here for their bachelor parties. As he stops right outside of the big red door with the large numbers reading 1117 in a golden font he wipes his hands on his pants, palms drenched in sweat before turning the knob. The low lights in the room make Jisung squint, trying his best to see where he was going before San zooms by him, happily sitting in one of the chairs, a wicked grin on his face, fingers dancing along his knees. They were well seasoned with this place, that was enough to make Jisung side eye all of them.

Wooyoung drops his hands from Jisungs shoulders before speeding to where all of the members were beginning to sit, with his palms laid flat against his slacks he could barely move an inch. Chan and Hongjoong notice his riddled nerves and approach him to calm him down the best they can. As they all shuffle to their seats, Jisung sits in the middle so he could be the center of attention. They hear the soft clicks of your heels make their way towards the room. As you enter, all of their heads whip your way. Some mouths drop in awe of your beauty, the scent of you hits them full force. You had to be a goddess.

Immediately you spot who you assumed was the special man of the hour, he looked out of place, his shoulder wound tightly, sitting up straight as a board, this was going to be a night for all of them to remember.

”You must be the lucky groom.” You state, hands coming to run across the back of his clothes shoulders. You feel him tighten up in his seat, shoulders stiff as your acrylic nails softly scratch across the material of his shirt. With a loud gulp he nods his head, letting out a small chuckle, you stand in front of him. A soft, warm hand rubs across his shoulder once more before halting at his neck line. His eyes bore up at you as if he was a man of pure innocence. Fighting the urge to let out a loud groan at his big, clueless eyes, you opt to flash him a smile.

“I think I’m going to cum just from her voice..” Mingi whispers to Hyunjin in a not so quiet voice. Letting out a small chuckle, you look over at the men seated beside Jisung, some of them just as stiff as he was, others slack against their seat, adjusting their pants.

“We will save that for the end, isn’t that right, pretty boy?” You say while putting your pointer finger under his chin, lifting his head so he was looking directly at you. With his lips slightly parted he nods aimlessly, practically turning into putty in your soft hands. Tapping the soft skin under his chin, you lean forward your clothes breast in your tiny bra leaving very little to the imagination as you get closer and closer to him.

“I'm going to give you the best show of your life, pretty boy.”

As you wink at Jisung you make your way towards the stage, the lights dimming, as the music begins to pour out of the speaker, the soft melody with a heavy bass fills your ears. Body clinging to the pole as this wasn’t your first time, you were a pro. A pro when it came to dancing, a pro when it came to tricking out married men, a true vixen at heart, and an even bigger maneater. With each twirl of your body, the men seated below you begin to shift uncomfortably in their slacks, some tugging at their waist lines, others shifting back and forth, than there was Jisung, cock bricked against his thigh while he watched you in amazement, each twirl of your body had him spiraling down a deeper, hornier hole that he didn’t know he could fall into. His future wife never made him feel like this, none of their wives did..

With the next song starting with a thicker tempo, you pull the string to the back of your bra. Breasts falling out, you gather the white shimmered bra and throw it to the men below you, instantly shooting up Seonghwa grabs the fabric bringing it to his nose to inhale a deep whiff, a gurgle like moan leaves his throat, momentarily you see his eyes roll back. Your body breaks out in goosebumps, cunt beginning to throb at the lewd action, you can feel your arousal begin to dampen your white panties. With a small smirk you crawl to the edge of the stage, eyes dancing from each member to the next. You look down right feral, skin glistening with a thin layer of sweat, making your scent even more potent than it was before. With each movement forward your breast jiggle, suddenly the lights turn a dark shade of red. All of the men except Jisung stand up fiddling with their belts, letting them drop to their knees, Jisung is in shock, his eyes grow wide, as you inch closer, all of his friends now have their dicks out and are beginning to slowly pump their stiff cocks while watching your half naked form put them under a trance while you move like water on stage.

“Wh–what’s going on?” Jisung says lowly, clearly embarrassed that he had to ask. His hands are slowly undoing the buttons on his pants.

“Red light special.” Seungmin says, voice as still as stone but Jisung can make out the desperation underlying his tone. Not wanting to ask further as you are practically boring holes in Jisung he takes out his cock, biting your lip you watch as the head of his cock is red at the tip, perfectly cut, with a curve to the side, it looks heavy. Making your way closed and closer to the edge of the stage you run your hands over your chest, with a twirl of your hips, the contrast of your sweaty skin makes your nipples begin to harden, giving each nipple a small pinch you let out a moan loud enough that can be heard above the music.

As your song came to an end you did one final spin, topless, nipples pebbles, and the sleek shine of your arousal on your white thong showing. As you hit a final split, ass jiggling as it smacks the floor, you look over your shoulder all of their eyes are glued to your figure, cocks firm in hand while you can tell some of them are on the verge of cumming in their hands, others have a firm grasp on holding their orgasm in.

Moving to your hands and knees, you crawl to the edge of the stage, body slightly hovering over Jisung, Wooyoung, Felix, and Yeosang. All of their eyes grow wide as they can smell the scent of your perfume wafting off on you. Jisung holds his throbbing member in his hands, the sight of you getting closer and closer to him with your bare breasts has him on the edge of his seat.

“Did you like the way I danced for you?” You say, hands gripping the edge of the stage at the desperate men before you, there was nothing you loved more than someone practically laying down and harping over you. With quick shakes of their heads they all collectively speak at once..

“Yes..” Jisung whispers, eyes boring up at you like you are a goddess, and he is a humble servant who is ready for nothing but to serve you.

“You were beautiful..” Felix whispers out, his deep voice laced with admiration, the dim lights reflect off of the body glitter on your chest, blinding him with need. His cock jumps as he continues to inhale your scent.

Backing up slightly you stand back up slowly, turning around you bend over, running your hands down your legs as you can hear the men behind you groan at the skimpy fabric covering your lower body. Panties clinging to your wet cunt, the fabric becoming semi see through as you are getting wetter by the second. As you hook the waist line, you pull them down painfully slow, as you are about to pull them over your ass you look back at them, faces flushed, hands pumping their cocks even faster at the extra show you are putting on for them. Pulling the fabric down over the swell of your ass you let out a breathy moan when the cool air comes in contact with your cunt, the panties pool around your heels. Making an extra show for them you bend over dramatically to pick up the moist fabric, ass perked in the air, as your cunt spreads slightly, all of them eyeing your sticky arousal that was oozing from your pussy. Balling the fabric in your hand you turn around, naked body on full display you bite your lip, eyes growing dark as your heels click louder, and louder towards the group of men before you.

All of their eyes bore up at you, beads of sweat dripping down their temples, some of them biting their lips raw. You loved the sight beneath you, rich, married men, ready to throw their perfect lives away from a woman like you. With the white panties I’m your hand you make your way off stage, wanting to get close to them, ass jiggling with each step you pause right in front of them, making sure you are standing right in front of the groom to be. Bringing your heel to run up his leg slightly, his cock does a heavy noticeable twitch, beads of pre cum oozing out of the slit.

“Here..” you say while tossing the soiled fabric at him, you watch as he scrambles to grab the material. His hand free hand swiftly grabbing it as he scrambles, all of the other members watch you with an intense gaze, eyes growing heavy you make your way around the room, hands brushing over their shoulder as you step behind them in their seats, your hand pulling softly at the strands of hair, nails raking against the delicate skin of their necks, the soft mewls, mixed with the whines of them make your core throb.

“Such good boys..” you whisper out with your hand wrapped in Minhos hair, a pathetic whimper leaves his mouth. His head dropping back against your warm touch. His eyes crack open to see you looking down at him, he sees the infatuation with you. You were like sex on legs, voice soft and assertive, actions fluid like water. You were the light , and they were the careless moths hurling towards your way. As you move from Minho, you put your hands around Changbin, your arms coming to his front, rubbing his shoulders before running your hands down to his arms, letting your nails leave soft red scratches across his skin. With a loud moan, his body breaks out into goosebumps at the feeling of your body on his. Letting a smile grace your face you move onto the next person, after next, making your way towards the end of the line. While you were fueling their raging cocks, that sat stiff in their hands.

They were fueling your massive ego, such silly pathetic men. As you round your way back in front of the small crowd of men, giving those you passed by a show in the front and back. Ass jiggling with each step, breast bouncing with each breath, this truly was your world, and they were just living in it. Making your way in front of Jisung, you smile at him, your hand playing with the fabric of his pants that were tight around his knees. His hand stills around his cock, the squelching noises from them stroking theirselves was filling the room, out of the corner of your eye you can see your bra that you flung off earlier, wrapped around Seonghwas cock as he’s using it to get off. You let out a small moan of your own, hand gripping Jisungs knee tightly, he lets out his own moan. Hand gripping the tip of his cock tightly. As you turn your attention back towards him, your fingers brush along the base of his member. Placing your other hand on his knee you stare deep into his eyes, you watch as the blush that was painting his face begins to paint his neck below.

Lowering your body to the cold tile floor, you hear a course of groans, some even fighting the urge to cum right then and there at the sight in front of them. Perched up on your knees, your hands move from Jisungs knees to rest softly on your plush thighs has him spiraling, picking up your spoiled panties he brings them to his nose, taking a deep whiff of your scent, his cock jumps once more before he lets out a loud cry, back arching off of the chair, his cum shoots all over your chin, some landing on your neck and breast. With heavy tears in his eyes, he jerks his hips forward, stroking his cock quickly to make sure he can enjoy the pleasure train for as long as he can. With a harsh twitch of his hips, he leans back in his chair, panties covering the lower half of his face, he hiccups with bliss. His vision blurring with dark spots, snatching the panties off of his face, Wooyoung, Felix, and Yeosang play tug of war over the material.

Clearing your throat you gather the attention of all the men, as their eyes bore on your cum coated skin, dancing between looking at you, and looking at the orgasm that was slowly dripping onto your chest, you beckon the men over, index finger directing them to you. As all of the men stand with their cocks in their hands circling your naked body, you let out a small moan, hand running down your chin to collect some of Jisungs cum before popping your finger into your mouth..

“Fuck..” you say through your finger filled mouth, your eyes roll back at the salty taste of Jisung, who is still trying to ground himself from the intense orgasm.

“Which one of you good boys is going to be next?” You moan out, finger popping out of your mouth, you eye up the oldest members of each group. Chan and Hongjoong immediately move forward as Seonghwa who still has your bra wrapped around his cock, slowly moves towards you, Lee Know steps to the side of Seonghwa, the slick shine of your glittered skin has him wrapped up in the moment, toes curling in his shoe he shoots all over your chest, some of it splashing on your shoulder, with a loud moan at the feeling of the warm liquid on you, looking back at Lee Knows scrunched face, when you hear a loud cry knowing he had started a chain reaction, Seonghwa following behind, among with Chan, and Hongjoong whose knees visibly buckle as they are shooting their load on your glimmering skin. With his sweat covered forehead, he brings your white bra up to stroke his cock once more, stuffing it in his pocket..

“I’ll be keeping this pretty girl..” he says through a hoarse voice. Seonghwa gets shoved slightly as the other members rush past him, the older members get shoved out of the way Yunho, Yeosang, San, Changbin, and Hyunjin crowd your cum coated body, cocks dripping with precum, all of the tips to there cocks are red and ready to burst, leaning forward you blow on Yunhos cock while looking up at him, with a firm hand around his base, the blowing on his tip is all it takes for him to tilt his head back and shoot his load all over your face, while you feel the splashing of the rest of the members on your skin, the warmth of their cum beating up your body. As their release begins to drip off your skin, the younger members once again brush past the older ones in front of him. Wooyoung, Mingi, Jongho, Felix, Seungmin, and Jeongin practically shove the others to the floor, their cocks angry at the tip, with swollen lips on their face as they have biting them to not cum so soon.

All it takes is one pump and they are letting out a roar of cries, between Mingi and Felix’s deep voice, the rest of the members whimpers and moans fall on empty ears. With the feeling of each members release on your sticky coated skin, your pussy grows wetter at the feeling of your body being covered in their cum, while your thighs are thickening up with your arousal. With tired cries, and heavy breathes each member lugs their way back to their seats, bodies slouched with exhaustion. Jisung slowly starts to become coherent, he sits up slowly, a loud hiss leaves his throat as his softening cock shifts on his lap, there you are on the center of the floor, body dripping with each members cum on your soft skin. The low lights catch a shine of shimmer mixing with the cum that’s slowly beginning to dry on your chin.

Rising off of your knees slowly, their cum now running down your body quicker, you stand, heels clicking against the floor again, as you make your way back on stage with a twirl of your hips with each step, making your way to the edge of the stage, you plop down, spreading your legs slightly open so they can all get an eye full of your puffy cunt, throbbing with need to get stuffed. Jisung feels his cock stir back to life once more, stretching your leg out, your heeled foot just inches away from the edge of his seat, your eyes scan over each man in the room. Eyes dancing between your dripping skin, and your dripping cunt that looks like the best meal they could be served. You drag your hand down from your breast making sure to outline the curves on your body. Stopping right as your fingers push against your clit, arching your back slightly, your hips buck forward.

The feeling of your pussy finally getting any sort of stimulation has you ready to burst right in front of them, cocking your head back slightly to let out a breathy moan. You rub your fingers between your folds slowly, the loud squelching noises fill the intense space.

“Alright, now it’s time for a real show.”

166 notes · View notes