#my hands need to be in it. i need to touch.

[beloveds-embrace]

DUKEDOM!141 AND MY LIFE IS YOURS 🙏🙏🙏🙏 (/nf please and thank you :])

Original post

Enjoy!! :D

Something all of them like to do is doll you up, and it becomes almost a private little routine between you and them.

John, as your husband (can you tell I love referring to him like this?), steadily takes control of deciding what you wear for the day even long before your request. It’s something that just… happens. He comes into your bedroom early in the mornings, and your maids scatter away to leave you both be with little giggles, excited at the prospect of you two finally getting ‘close’.

John doesn’t care for them. He greets you with a soft good morning (a few weeks later, he’d greet you the same but would gently caress your face with the back of his hand, the touch so gentle despite his roughened skin. It makes you into a blushing mess, though you tell yourself it’s just so that the peeking maids won’t suspect anything) and then goes straight to your closet, sweeping through the rows and rows of delicate, soft dresses with a discerning eye to select what attire you’ll wear for the day.

Of course, he does ask you what you feel like wearing, how you feel today in general, where you plan on going or meeting- everything to ensure the dress he’ll choose for you would be perfect. John doesn’t wait to see you in the dress, though.

He knows he’ll be seeing you all adorned and dressed up later, when you come down to dine with him. He can compliment you and pat himself on the back, then.

If he makes sure to match his cufflinks with the colors you are wearing, it will simply make whoever notice it think you two are such a lovely couple. And he still hopes that your maids will accidentally not tighten or cover up your hemline just so he can fix it himself for you.

John aside, Kyle takes care of your hair and jewelry. He makes you sit on the vanity, still alone and with none of your maids around, and then he begins the tender ritual of brushing your hair (if it’s not too curly for daily brushings). His hands, warm and careful and gentle, would then take care of oiling each strand. No oils or butters have been spared in the efforts of tending to you, and Kyle himself often turns the routine into a simple, but so effective, head massage session for you.

(Later, Kyle wonders what he needs to say and do to take over the job of the maids who help you bathe. You are always complimenting how good his hands feel on your hair, and he can show you how much better he is at using them for your body.)

Johnny eventually begins doing your makeup, on certain occasions. Once the truth comes out, the two of you are closer, and on one night, he tells you about his big family, his sisters and how they’d make him and his brothers help them get ready for events and parties.

It’s a simple question born out of your curiosity- what’s the makeup like where you were born, Johnny?- that has him in your bedroom often now, the other chefs taking care of the kitchen while his hands, clean and gentle, dab creams and whatnot on your face so delicately- like you are one of the cupacakes he decorates for your tea time.

He wants to kiss you so badly. You look so pretty like this, eyes closed and expression peaceful, patient and so trustful of his ministrations. He really, really wants to kiss you and see if the lipstick he’d applied on your pretty lips tastes as sweet as it smells.

Simon, though, is the one who slowly begins adding more and more to your dresses. John already supplies you with so much, but Simon is the one largely in charge of the silk and fabric importation and he knows well what styles will be popular next season, what styles will looks better on you and which colors suit you best. It’s not just dresses, but also matching fabrics and ribbons to go in your hair for when Kyle or your maids style, and for your pretty neck during more casual tea parties.

Not occasionally seeing you in the dresses he sends doesn’t bother him; you will be spoiling the others with the sight, and he can listen to them thank him in several ways afterwards and rest with the thought of you all dolled up, happy and thriving with them.

[ikinremu]

DUTY CALLS

Aaron Hotchner x Fem!Reader

! Smut Warning !

a/n: i wrote this super quickly bc honestly i’ll never get enough of this idea however many times it’s done😭

-> drabble <-

"God, you feel so fucking good." Aaron groaned, his voice both hoarse and breathy as he thrust his hips in quick succession against your own, trailing the pad of his thumb over your pebbled nipple, the warmth of his body looming over yours as he toyed with the stiff peak.

“Aaron..” His name fell from your lips amidst a soft moan, feeling heat burn through your skin with each stroke of his hips against you.

"I know." He breathed, "Taking my cock so well, honey."

He thrust his hips quicker, splaying his large hands across your chest, squeezing possessively at your breasts as he ran his opposing hand from its grip of your hips to your bare ass.

"That's my good girl." He practically grunted, warm skin smacking together. Purposeful in his teasing, Aaron rolled the hardened peak of your nipple between his fingers, pulling a shaky moan from your mouth.

"Fuck, yes.." You whined back arching in a plea for more - his touch somehow both firm and tender against the sensitivity.

"Such pretty tits, darling." He praised, hungry gaze running deep as it wandered back between your thighs. His cock twitched between the pulses of your walls as he absorbed the sight of him disappearing inside your cunt, your arousal soaking his shaft.

As your teeth punctured into your lower lip, a blaring ringtone escaped Aaron’s phone as it lay atop the beside table.

"Shit." He hissed, eyes flitting to the number that presented itself on his screen.

"Aaron.." You begged, "Please don't- fuck- don't stop.."

Your words sent heat pumping through him as he kept up the pace of him without fail, teeth gritting in response to your plea, his jaw tight with conflict. After the passing of a few short moments, he seized the phone in his hand, shooting you a stern look as he swiped his thumb over the screen.

“Hotchner.” He spoke, clearing his throat as he brought his rhythm to be much slower, assuring the sound of your skin colliding wasn’t audible over the line.

Your eyes widened in an instant, the thrill of it only heightening your arousal. You breathed softly, trying your absolute best to remain quiet as you heard a male voice mumbling on the other end of the exchange.

With his remaining hand, Aaron slid the pad of his thumb upward from your breasts, sliding it messily over your lips as he silently mouthed, ‘Open.’

Suppressing your desperation to make a noise, you parted your lips and allowed him to slide the pad of his thumb against your tongue.

"Have you sent the files over?" He inquired, keeping his voice impressively steady as he moved slowly against you.

Satisfied whimpers fought to escape your throat as you pushed them down, feeling Aaron’s thumb pressing against your tongue. Without the need to be told, you wrapped your lips around the thick digit, muffling yourself around his thumb as you watched him clutch the device against his ear.

His eyelids shut for a brief moment before he forced them open again, clearly struggling to hold back as he felt you squeezing him. The sight of you certainly didn’t help either, cunt full of his tauntingly slow thrusts as you sucked sweetly at his thumb, only nearing his release, “Alright. Be there soon.”

The very moment the phone beeped and the call cut, Aaron let out a frustrated groan. He wasted no time in picking up the pace of his hips once more, dragging his now damp thumb down your chin, “You did so good for me, honey. Now show me how loud you can be.”

[lotties-ashwagandha]

THE FIRST TO BREAK

agatha harkness x reader x rio vidal

NSFW! when they can’t decide who indulges you more, agatha and rio find a way to settle it in competition. based on this ask i got. 1.3k words. i might have written this at 7am (that’s my excuse if it’s bad <3).

Rio’s arms rest looped around your waist as you stand at the stove. Her head rests on your shoulder as she watches you work, as you pour herbs and spices into a pot —you got up early, stalking through the kitchen to create something to prevent the illnesses that will be coming with winter soon. You use your witchcraft in the way of herbs, a potion witch as they would call you.

“You don’t need any of this,” Rio whispers. She watches you stir, and her arms around you grow tighter. “I’m not taking you from illness.”

You smile softly. You’ve tried to explain to her before that it’s not just about life and death, but discomfort — how much life resembles the gleaming, shifting ideal of thriving. She is still learning, it’s a concept too human for what is ancient, for Death.

“You’re going to keep her alive forever,” Agatha’s voice rings out into the gentle silence of the kitchen as she speaks to Rio. You turn slightly in Rio’s grasp to look over at her, and as she pours a coffee for herself Agatha raises her eyebrows at you accusingly. “Don’t break my favoritism streak.”

You shake your head. “I’ll try.”

Rio rolls her eyes. She steps away from you, leaning against the kitchen island behind her as she turns to Agatha. “If one of us is treating her with favoritism, it’s not me.”

“Really? That’s a stretch. How do I treat her with favoritism?”

Leaving the contents on the stove to simmer, you turn to watch them argue over you. It is playful, but still endearing, because you know they both treat you with favoritism.

“You answer to whatever she wants,” Rio says, like it’s obvious. “Even when she doesn’t ask, you’re always giving.”

“That’s not a bad thing.”

“No. Stealing diamond earrings and a diamond bracelet in the same week from a shopkeeper you threatened to kill is a little much though, isn’t it?”

Agatha is quiet for a moment, taking a sip of her coffee. She drinks out of a black mug Rio got her, wears a dark blue robe Rio bought her, wears a wedding ring Rio proposed to her with. You don’t think you are the one being shown partiality.

Agatha sets the mug down and looks at you. “What do you think?”

You didn’t think it had been worth bickering over. They had disagreed. Now as you lay on the bed with your hands tied all you want is for them to show you favor, to fuck you until they forget the petty competition they have created between them.

Two of Rio’s fingers slide into you as she takes advantage of her turn. The rules of their competition are simple: whoever lets you come first loses. You’re working up to the third time being edged, this is Rio’s second time on you and Agatha has only edged you once.

It was Agatha’s plan to make Rio go first, and now you can see why, because in the way she’s fucking you so greedily now with her fingers and in the low moans she lets slip as she sucks bruises onto your chest you can tell Rio will be the first to break. She wants to let you come as bad as you need it, her black nails digging into your hips as her free hand presses against you in a reminder to stay still.

“Look at her,” Agatha says, speaking to Rio as if you couldn’t hear, you were something to admire. “Doesn’t she deserve to come? She’s so beautiful for us like this.”

Rio lets out a frustrated breath, accusatory glance shifting to Agatha, who takes advantage of her proximity and pulls her into a kiss. You watch them above you, one of Agatha’s hands drifting to your breasts as she sits at your side. She’s trying hard to do anything she can to make Rio let you come.

Rio notices Agatha’s wandering touch. She pulls out of the kiss, pulling Agatha’s hand away from your breasts and replacing it with her mouth. The sensation elicits a gasp from you, and your back arches into the sensation of her tongue licking across one of your nipples.

“She’s so close,” Agatha whispers into Rio’s ear. She watches you with the same hunger in Rio’s eyes as she keeps fucking you with her fingers. “Think about how perfect she would look for you, how it would feel to have her—”

Just as you reach the edge of your orgasm, Rio pulls her hands from you. She compensates with kissing you — it’s not enough, though, and you can’t help but whine into the kiss. You need her touch, or Agatha’s, something to soothe the need growing in you so sharply.

When you pull away and look at Agatha, a conflicted expression occupies her features. You know she wants to give you an orgasm, but she also wants to win. As she takes Rio’s place and settles herself between your legs, head dipping down to kiss your thighs, you can see it — that there’s nothing she wants more right now than to feel you come on her tongue.

When Rio kisses you from beside you, Agatha delivers a sharp slap to the outside of your thigh. You tense, startled out of the kiss.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Agatha’s tone is demanding as she addresses Rio, who looks back at her with unbothered pride.

“I’m playing by your rules. You want to taunt me during my turn? It has to be even.”

“It will be even when I win,” Agatha says, and you’re overcome with the sensation of her tongue dragging through you. Your hands pull at the restraints above you to no avail. You want to reach down and weave your hands in her hair, or pull Rio closer to you as she watches.

Agatha runs her tongue over your clit. She does it harder, moaning against you when your legs begin to tremble on either side of her head. It’s almost painful how good it feels to have her tongue dipping inside of you and back up to your clit. With Rio’s lips crashing back into yours you can feel yourself slowly building into another orgasm — this time you need it.

“Please,” you beg breathlessly, hands pulling the restraints again. “You win, both of you can win…”

“Agatha,” Rio taunts beside you. She watches as Agatha draws you closer and closer to the edge — she watches when Agatha pulls away.

Yet when Agatha pulls away it’s not to let Rio take her place, but to slide two fingers into you and reposition herself so she can kiss you. You taste yourself on her tongue and a moan escapes you.

“Come for me, baby, give it to me,” Agatha murmurs. Your body responds immediately, any restraint you’ve tried to keep snaps as white-hot euphoria rushes over you. Agatha fucks you through it, fingers buried deep in you as she guides you through your orgasm. Vaguely you’re able to process Rio beside you as well with one of her hands between her legs — she’s gone with you, at the sight of you and Agatha.

Agatha kisses you again as you come down from it. You hear Rio breathing heavily beside you, and then Agatha is pulled away from you again so that Rio can kiss her. When they part, Rio looks into her eyes. “You fucking lose.”

“And you’re the one that got off on it.”

A smile makes its way to your lips. Playfully Rio shakes her head at you, Agatha moving to lay on your other side so that you’re sandwiched between them while Rio undoes the restraints on your wrists. You pull your hands down.

Laying down with them, Rio rests her head on her chest and loops an arm around your waist. Agatha holds her hand, and in their embrace you are enveloped by their love. There is no winner amongst you — the victory is shared.

[getoslamb]

Kinktober Day 27 - Size Difference with Sukuna Ryomen

contains: nsfw content: (mdni), fempov, pnv (unprotected), creampie, size difference, cervix fucking mention?, slight breeding kink, stomach bulge, fingering, calls you 'pet'

˚₊‧ for more kinktober here - wc: 2k

a/n: he's not true form here because i kinda forgot about that when i was writing, my bad.......also not proofread

His gaze swept over you, taking in the soft curve of your body against his bed, the way the silk caught the light as it draped across your skin. There was a flicker of something dark and amused in his eyes, sending your heart into a sprint.

“You waited,” he murmured, his voice low and rough, yet somehow warm. He reached out, his hand large enough to frame your entire face as his thumb brushed your cheek, tracing a line down along your jaw and lingering at the hollow of your throat.

The weight of his touch, gentle but commanding, sent a shiver through you, your skin responding to him with a tremor you couldn’t suppress.

You felt shy under his gaze. "Always," you managed, the word coming out soft, like he'd sucked the air from your lungs. A deep chuckle rumbled from his chest; the sound rolled through you, deepening the ache pooling low in your belly.

He leaned in, his large frame hovering over yours as the bed dipped under his weight. His mouth claimed yours in a slow, possessive kiss, his lips moving against yours as if he'd waited forever for that moment. As he pulled back, his eyes were molten- as he surveyed you -reflecting the look of a man desperate for you.

His hand slipped to your waist, his fingers splayed across your hip, his thumb tracing the curve of your ribs as if every gentle stroke was a reminder of the power in his hands, the ease with which he could break you if he wanted. His fingers drifted to the edge of your silk clothing, his eyes darkening into a blur as he drank in the sight of you.

“So small,” he murmured, almost as if marvelling at the difference. “So perfect, just like this...in my hands, completely mine.” His lips curled in a faint, knowing smirk, clearly delighted by the shy look on your face at his words.

With a gentle touch, he eased you back onto the bed, his weight pressing down, warm and solid against you, enveloping you completely. He kissed you again, deeper this time, his hands exploring you with reverent intensity, like he wanted to memorise every curve, every breath you took beneath him. Each caress reminded you of just how much larger he was, his presence wrapping around you, pinning you beneath him in a way that made you feel both vulnerable and safe.

His lips brushed close to your ear, his breath warm, and his voice dropped to a low, rough murmur. “You’re so precious, so beautiful” he growled, the words thick with desire. “I could spend hours just worshipping this body of yours.”

A soft gasp escaped your lips as his mouth traced a path down your neck, his tongue hot against your skin. He gently removed the silk clothing, letting it drop off your shoulders and baring you more to his gaze. His thumbs brushed over your nipples, sending a spark through you that arched you into his touch, hungry for more.

"Look at you," he whispered, “So eager.” His mouth found your breast, his tongue circling the nipple before enclosing around it, each flick and gentle nip making you tremble beneath him, your skin alive with need as his hands roamed across your skin, his mouth hot against your breasts.

"Please," you whispered, your hands threading through his hair as you pulled him closer, desperate. "I need you."

His dark laugh rumbled through his chest, amused by your impatience. "Patience, pet."

His hand drifted lower, fingertips tracing down your stomach before he reached between your thighs, the heat of his touch sending sparks through you. You gasped as he brushed along your folds, teasing, light as a feather. "Already so wet for me," he murmured, clearly pleased as he circled your clit with his thumb. "You want me that badly, don’t you?"

His finger slipped inside you, stretching you deliciously. You gasped, arching into him as he worked you open, his finger far larger and thicker than your own. "That’s it," he whispered, his voice thick. "Let me get you ready for my cock."

As he slid a second finger inside, the stretch made you gasp, your body thrilling at his touch, the burn and pleasure mixing as he skillfully worked his fingers, curling them to press deep against your inner walls. The intensity of his touch made your toes curl, each movement bringing you closer, making you needier.

“Good girl,” he purred, watching your reaction with a possessive glint in his eyes. “Look at you, taking my fingers so well…Gonna feel so good with this pussy wrapped around my cock.”

His fingers moved faster, the pace and pressure making your body tremble under him. The intensity of his touch, the delicious ache from the stretch, drove you to the brink. His thumb pressed against your clit, rubbing slow, firm circles that left you breathless.

He eased a third finger inside, his eyes never leaving yours as he watched you grow impossibly close to that sweet release. His voice was a dark, comforting rumble. “That’s it. You’re ready for me, aren’t you?” His lips brushed over your neck, his touch possessive yet reverent, claiming you in every way.

And as he continued to move, every press and curl of his fingers prepared you for the moment he would finally take you, filling you completely, wholly, leaving no part of you untouched.

The dual sensations overwhelm you, sending you spiralling into an intense release that crashes over you like a tidal wave. Your inner muscles tighten around his fingers as pleasure ripples through your body. He doesn't relent, his fingers moving with expert precision, easing you through the waves of ecstasy until your strength fades, leaving you soft and pliant beneath him.

"That's it," he murmurs, easing his fingers out slowly, feeling your body's response as it shivers in the afterglow. "Nice and ready for me now."

His darkened gaze drinks in the sight of you, lying so open, so small against his towering frame. The anticipation in his expression holds a promise that makes your heart race, and you feel a thrill of both longing and surrender. You want him—want him to claim you so thoroughly you’ll remember every inch of his presence.

It’s not long before he settles between your thighs, his broad, powerful form enveloping yours, making you feel delicate in comparison. As he brushes the length of his cock against your wet folds, teasing you as a shiver travels up your spine. You arch instinctively toward him, feeling his low chuckle resonate through his chest.

“Look at you, all ready for me,” he murmurs, guiding himself to your entrance with teasing deliberation. “Eager little thing… practically begging for me.”

You brace yourself as he presses forward, the pressure building until, with a single, powerful thrust, he fills you completely, stretching you around his size in a way that makes you gasp, a sharp sound escaping your lips. Your body instinctively arches beneath him, accommodating his fullness, the sensation intense and exhilarating.

“Fuuuck,” he groans, stilling for a moment, savouring the way your body wraps around him. “So fucking perfect- Like you were made just for me.”

He withdraws slowly, letting the anticipation build, before burying himself back in again, setting a deep, steady rhythm that shakes your core and steals the breath from your lungs. Each movement drives him deeper, his hips pressing flush against yours as he claims you completely, your surroundings blurring as all you feel is him.

His eyes meet yours, the smirk tugging his lips upwards. "I'm going to ruin you," he mutters, low. "So deep you'll still feel me tomorrow.

He leans down and reaches for your legs, drawing them up and back until you’re practically folded in half. This new angle allows him to plunge in even deeper as the head of his cock kisses your cervix with every stroke. You can only cling for life as your fingernails dig into his shoulders when you take him inch by inch.

As he thrusts into you, you feel the unmistakable bulge of his length pressed against your lower belly.

Each downward thrust, in which he bottoms out inside you, causes the head of his cock to nudge against your cervix. "Look at that," he growls, his eyes dark with lust as he watches his shaft disappear into your body. "My cock splitting you open, stuffing this tight little cunt so full." He leans down, capturing your lips in a bruising kiss as he continues to pound into you. 

The new angle makes him hit even deeper, the bulge in your belly growing more pronounced with every thrust. "Gonna fuck a baby into you," he pants against your lips, his hips snapping forward with renewed vigor. "Knock you up, make this belly swell with my child." He takes your hand, guiding it to the prominent bulge in your lower belly. 

"Feel that?" he growls, pressing your palm against the outline of his cock stretching you. "Feel how deep I am." He rolls his hips, grinding against you so you can feel every thick inch of him throbbing inside you. "Fuck, you're so hot like this," he pants, his thrusts growing erratic. 

"Taking my cock so deep, letting me reshape this greedy hole to fit me perfectly." He leans down, biting at your neck as he ruts into you. The pleasure builds at the base of your spine, coiling tighter with every drag of his cock against your sensitive walls. "Gonna fill this pussy up," he grunts, his fingers digging into your hips. "Paint your insides with my cum until it's dripping out of you." 

His words send you over the edge and your orgasm crashes over you. Your body spasms as wave after wave of ecstasy breaks over you. Your walls clench down on Sukuna's cock, fluttering as you gush around him, milking his cock for all its worth. 

With a final, guttural groan, he buries himself to the hilt and pulses inside you, his hot seed flooding your channel. You can feel it, the way your belly seems to swell with each jet of cum, claiming you from the inside out. His cock twitches and pulses inside you, spilling rope after rope of thick, hot cum deep into your spasming cunt.

"Fuck, take it all," he groans, his hips stuttering as he empties himself into you. Your inner walls milk him for every last drop, greedy for him. When he finally stills, his softening cock still buried inside you, you can feel the obscene amount of cum leaking out around his shaft, trickling out. 

"Look at that," he rumbles, his fingers scooping up some of the pearly fluid and bringing it to your lips. You part your lips obediently, letting him paint your tongue with his essence. 

The taste is musky and slightly salty, a tangible reminder of his claim on you. He pulls out with a wet squelch, his softening cock slipping free of your abused hole. A river of cum follows, pouring out of you to pool on the sheets beneath your ass. 

"Fuck, you're a mess," he chuckles, running his fingers through the slickness coating your thighs. "But such a pretty little mess. All marked up with my cum." He leans down, capturing your lips in a searing kiss. His tongue delves into your mouth, claiming you thoroughly as he tastes himself on your tongue. 

You can't help but moan into the kiss, your body still trembling with the aftershocks of your orgasm. When he finally pulls back, you're both breathing heavily.

He tucks you into his side, his large hand splayed possessively over your lower belly. "Rest now, pet," he murmurs, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. “I’ll clean you up, just get some sleep.”

taglist:

@l0v3m3-p13as3 @hishearttohave @williamafton26 @kentochronicles

@jays-adventure3 @nctislifue @eeveedvck @needtoloveoutloud @yowumi

@sweetpo1son @betelgeuse420 @yuhig-blog @psychedellyc @char-35

@kaeyeahsworld @sukunadckrider @ladyackermanisdead @szired

© getoslamb ↣ do not copy or translate any of my works

[willowpains]

paparazzi

drew starkey x latina actress reader!

slightly inspired by that zendaya and tom video iykyk

It was the season 4 premiere of Outer Banks.

Drew and you were arriving together to the event, the car having picked you both from the place you two shared in Charleston for filming seasons.

“It never gets old” you say, resting your head in Drew’s shoulder while fidgeting with his hand.

He chuckles lightly as he looks down at you.

“What do you mean doll?” He asks smiling at you with longing.

You look up to meet his eyes.

“The premieres” you pause. “I love them. And I’m secretly scared that we don’t know if this might be the last” you say, feeling your eyes glaze at the thought.

It was not about the premieres and you knew it.

Drew knew it.

You loved spending time with your best friends, and you were scared that the project that brought you all together one day, could ever end.

He gave you a soft smile while he cradled your face between his hands.

“It’s okay to feel scared” he murmured sweetly. “That’s one of my fears too”.

You furrowed your brows at his words, trying to hold your tears, you didn’t wanna ruin your makeup.

“Really?” You ask smirking up at him.

He nods chuckling at you, while softly grazing your cheeks with his thumb.

“But I am not worried about it” he says looking deep into your eyes. “We’ll keep seeing each other and hanging out no matter what love”.

You nod slowly at his words, smiling softly at him and his sweet words.

“No need to worry about the future” he continues. “Let’s enjoy today and take it one day at a time”.

He smiles and leans into you, pressing his lips softly against yours in a loving and soothing way trying to calm you.

And it worked.

“How many people do you think there’ll be?” You ask him excitedly, changing the subject.

This was a game you two liked to play. Guessing how much fans or people would be there showing for these events. It kept you feeling competitive and gave you reason to tease each other.

“Not many” he said playfully, sticking his tongue out at you.

You smile up at him.

“Hopefully” you say letting out a soft laugh.

You loved meeting fans and attending these events, it made you incredibly happy and motivated to see how many people loved your work.

But they also made you nervous. Big crowds of people screaming, flashing their cameras towards you and wanting to get a glimpse of you made you a bit anxious.

It was getting easier with each event you attended, but the little monster in your brain never truly shut up until you were safely inside, around the people that made you feel at ease.

Drew gave your hand a little squeeze while lifting it up and leaving a soft kiss on the back of it.

“It’s fine doll” he says softly. “I’m here with you” his thumb brushes your cheek soothingly.

You lean into his touch leaving a soft kiss on his palm.

“I wouldn’t want it any other way” you smile up at him.

Your boyfriend smirks down at you.

“I’m very tempted to tell the driver to turn around and drive back to our place” he says teasingly as he leans down to place a soft and slow kiss to your lips.

You feel yourself smile against his lips.

“You’re gonna have to wait, because my glam team wouldn’t be happy if this look didn’t get its moment” you say, as you take his face between your hands, tracing your thumb over his lips.

He smirks at you.

“Oh, I can make sure it gets the attention it deserves” he teases, moving his hands dangerously slow down your waist.

You laugh softly at his words.

“Too late mi amor” you say pecking his lips softly and moving your hands to fix his tie.

Because at that moment, the car comes to a stop, and your door is being opened, revealing screaming fans and paparazzi.

Your boyfriend sights and looks at you while you smile back innocently.

Drew gets out of the car first, waving and smiling at fans, and then turns around offering you his hand, helping you as you step out of the car, motioning and saying hi to everyone around you two.

Someone from your team guides you to the entrance, but you two decide to take a little detour and walk to the side of the street where fans were waiting patiently for the cast to arrive.

He never leaves your side, both of you stuck together taking pics, signing stuff and talking with fans.

“Omg y/n I love you so much!” A girl says excitedly as you near her and her friends. “can we take a selfie?

You smile happily at her.

“Of course!” You say, making a kissy face, watching her screen and seeing how Drew photo bombs from behind.

The girls around you begin to scream and giggle at him as he chuckles looking at the girl holding the phone.

“Nice shirt” he says pointing to the girls shirt, that has a photo of you two together back at poguelandia last year.

She blushes and laughs looking up at Drew after he complimented her shirt.

“I love you two so much!” She says moving her hands to touch her heart.

The both of you eventually switch sides, trying to get to as much fans as you can.

On this side, a girl catches your attention.

“Y/n, thank you for representing latinas in the show!” She screams as you near her, feeling your heart warm at her words.

You pout looking at her with teary eyes.

“You’re gonna make me cry!” You say as you go in for a hug.

The girl embraces you back excitedly.

“Estamos súper orgullosas de todo lo que estás logrando” says another girl next to her, now in Spanish.

You smile at them lovingly.

“Muchas gracias por el apoyo” you tell them clutching your heart.

You continue chatting and taking pics, feeling Drew’s presence looming behind you or a couple of people away from you.

When you reach the end of where fans are standing, there is a group of messily organized press and paparazzi waiting at the entrance of the event for anyone that arrives.

A member of your team tells you it’s time to get going, so you mutter some apologies and wave goodbye to the fans that you were not able to meet properly.

Drew takes your hand in his, as you two follow the crew member from your team to finally get into the event.

As you walk away from fans, suddenly the paparazzi and press that had been somewhat calm, immediately swarm the both of you, to the point that security guards that were waiting at the entrance, near the both of you to help clear the way.

Your boyfriend doesn’t let go of your hand, instead, holds you tighter and keeps looking back to make sure you’re okay.

While you’re making your way to the entrance, you spot a girl in between the mass of paparazzi, trying to get you to sign her poster.

You let go of Drew’s hands slowly, moving to face the girl in front of you.

The paparazzi suddenly swarming and moving around you and the fan.

All the screams and clicking sounds from them didn’t allow you to talk to the girl, so you tried your best to smile sweetly at her while signing her poster, hoping to make it quick, as you felt yourself getting a bit claustrophobic.

Drew was watching all of this go down from where the paparazzi had pushed him.

When he felt your hand leave his, he turned around to see all of the paparazzi and press already crowding around you and the little girl, shouting questions and flashing their cameras at you.

“Y/n you look lovely tonight!” “Y/n you and Drew going strong?” “Who are you wearing tonight y/n?” “Y/n can you tell us anything about the Narnia rumors?”

Drew tried to get closer to you, as he saw you were finishing signing the poster, when he saw one of the reporters shoving his camera a little to close to your face, almost hitting you with it.

His heart raced and his patience ran out.

He immediately got closer, shoving the paparazzi’s that were in his way to get to you, not even sparing to talk to them nicely, as they were already too comfortable violating your personal space.

“Get out the fucking way” he said loudly and a bit too agressive as he pushed the last of them to get to you.

The security guards that were supposed to be escorting you two, tried to gently pull him back to do the job themselves.

“No, no, no” Drew said as he shrugged them off and continued walking until he reached the guy who almost had his camera on your face.

He pushed him away from you in an instant, shoving him aside by pushing his chest away.

“Dude back off” he spitted at the guy while he took your hand between his and started to walk back with you close to him.

“Give her some room!” Security behind him shouted, trying to get the paparazzis off of you two.

You took his hand and gave it a soft squeeze, trying to let your boyfriend know you were okay.

Everything happened too fast you barely had time to react.

Your boyfriend continued walking to the entrance, looking back at you to make sure you were still behind him and not being bothered by the people around you.

As you two stood in front of the entrance, he came to a stop, looking at you and the paparazzi behind you, assessing them.

He moved back to let you in before pausing.

A guy with a camera stood infront of the door blocking it, trying to get a shot of you getting in the event.

Drew looked at him seriously, before, pushing him aside, to finally make space for you to get in.

He gently placed his hand on your waist, guiding you inside before him, while he gave the mass of paparazzi outside one last serious look before getting in behind you.

Finally, inside the event, you let out a breath of relief while you turned around and looked at your boyfriend, who was looking at you with a concerned look on his face.

“Are you okay?” He asked as his eyes wandered all over you, as if assessing you were perfectly fine.

You nodded slowly as you closed the space between you and wrapped your arms around his neck.

“Thanks to you” you smiled up at him as you pressed a soft kiss to his lips.

He smiled softly in between the kiss, his hands wrapping around your waist immediately.

You felt himself relax against you.

“That was pretty hot you know?” You say cheekily at him, playing with the hair at the nape of his neck.

Drew smirks down at you as his thumb draws soft circles on your waist.

“Really?” He chuckles, one hand moving to tuck a piece of hair behind your ear.

You nod, smiling brightly at him.

“You’re very attractive when you get protective” you say reaching up to peck his lips one more time.

He blushes slightly at your words, looking down to meet your eyes.

You feel his heart beating against your chest.

“Let’s get this over with” he says, taking your hand in his as he starts walking to the carpet. “I wanna take you home already” he says smirking playfully down at you.

*

that video did something to me, and I just couldn’t resist.

a bit of a time jump from the last few parts, but maybe a little hint of all that’s to come between drew and latina actress reader!

if you have any requests, ideas or things you’d like to know feel free to ask<3

taglist

@aariahnaa

[siriuslylantsov]

home

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader

description: in which spencer gets home and needs you.

tags: MDNI smut! and fluff, established relationship, sleepy sex, pinv, little praise, brief nipple stuff (im a creature of habit), cockwarming, aftercare, this is just sweet and quiet.

a/n: anon who sent in the req, this is for you :) little gilmore girls adjacent line there at the end because i have that show memorised and i think its silly. smut is slowly getting easier for me to right and im really happy about that. happy reading! tell me what you think

wc: 1.3k

you feel the all so familiar lips on your shoulder and you know. you stir awake. with a groggy groan, you open your eyes and turn your head around. the strap of your tank top is peeled down to your arm and a messy mop of curls is tucked into your neck. he's home.

“hey,” you whisper. “you're home.”

spencer lifts his head up, “yeah, baby.”

you scoot back into him, needing him to be closer. chuckling, when you feel an unmistakable hardness against your ass. you nudge your nose against his. 

“you okay?”

“mhm. you're just so pretty,” he responds, lip caught between his teeth, eyes glistening even in the low light. you could see the need in his eyes, and even barely awake, you felt compelled to tease him.

you turn to face him, subtly wedging a leg between his. action ever so slightly causing some friction, just enough that it seemed innocuous. you scrunch your nose up appreciatively, muttering a quiet “thank you”, pressing your thigh more firmly against him. 

he pouts, knowing what you're doing. “please,” he mumbles.

“please, what?” you taunt, playing dumb.

“i need you, please angel,” he whines, hand finding your waist.

you caress his cheek lightly with your knuckles, the gentleness making him shiver, so sensitive. you smile at him and he returns it. “you have me, spence. whenever you want.”

he leans into your touch, eyebrows furrowed in mild exasperation. “why tease me then?” he implores. 

“it's fun,” you offer up uselessly with a shrug. everytime you do, it draws something whiny from him and you find it so endearing. 

he huffs, in disbelief and amusement. “you're impossible.”

“you love me,” you retort, melting into the pillow.

“i do,” he confirms with a nod, leaning in to kiss your lips, lingering for a moment to see if you'll kiss him back.

you do, it's a little sloppy but he's okay taking the lead. his tongue slips into your mouth as he slowly pushes you to lay on your back. finding the waistband of your shorts, he pulls them down along with your underwear. your legs instinctively part as he lifts himself to settle between them. he dips his head down to capture your lips again, the kiss more frenzied this time. his hand trails up to your shoulder pulling the other strap of your tank top too and bunching the fabric at your waist so your tits were out. you weakly paw at his t-shirt and he takes it off, kicking his pants and underwear off in the process, clothes in a tangled mess somewhere under the duvet.

he mouths at your neck, sucking lightly. his hand trails over your breast, kneading the flesh. his thumb grazes your nipple and it stiffens. he rolls the bud between his fingers, making you quiver, causing arousal to pool between your thighs.

“spence,” you whimper.

“i got you,” he responds quickly, dipping his fingers between your folds. groaning when he feels the wetness there. “always so wet for me,” he murmurs. your eyes flutter shut as he gently circles your clit.

“do you need my fingers first? or are you ready?” he inquires.

 “‘m okay. i can take it,” you reassure him, your tone a little petulant because of the lingering sleep. 

you look so unbelievably soft, he's afraid that he might break you. “i know you can, angel, but it's been a week.”

“need you inside me,” you slur.

your gaze meets his, equally clouded in lust. he takes the plunge, guiding the tip of his cock to your entrance. he pushes in slowly, matching your sigh when he bottoms out. 

he stays there for a moment, relishing in the way you wrap around him. it's warm and soft and wet and overwhelmingly you, he couldn’t imagine being anywhere else. 

you seem just as content as him when you don't urge him to move immediately, raising your arms to pull him closer. your fingers trace the subtle lines of muscle on his shoulder blades, hallowed paths that you’re well accustomed to. 

your walls flutter around him and he buries his head into the crook of your neck, whispering sweet nothings into your skin, lips pressed firmly against you because he wants you to have it all, to absorb it, to take it. 

“perfect girl, you feel so good. so so good for me,” his words are muffled but heard by you all the same as he draws his hips back, only to somehow push in deeper. 

it goes like this. languid thrusts by him and soothing passes over his spine by you. it’s tranquil, the way that he fucks you–for a lack of a less crude word. it isn't making love either, in the sense that it isn't passionate or intense. but it's sweet, done with ease. practised motions of his hips has him dragging against your sweet spot incessantly. he can hear the hushed ah’s you let out, and god does he love how you sound. 

“i missed you,” he drawls into your neck, lips pressing feathery kisses to your skin.

your hand snakes into his hair, lightly scratching his scalp. “i missed you too, sweet boy.”

his pace quickens, ever so slightly, in mollified desperation. you almost feel a little bad that he's doing all the work, but you're too tired to think about it–and he feels fucking incredible inside you–so you happily let him. he lurks his hand between your bodies to rub at your clit again, angling his thrusts higher.

“fuck, baby, like that,” you keen.

“yeah?” he pants.

just like that. your orgasm washes over you in a wave of bliss–high, high and higher. the feel of you squeezing around him, drives him over the edge too. his hips snap as he fucks you through it, once, twice, and then he stills. 

he raises his head from your shoulder, “hi pretty,” he whispers, soft smile gracing his lips.

you hum in acknowledgement, the post orgasmic haze lulling you back to sleep. he chuckles quietly, brushing his lips over your forehead. he cautiously pulls out as to not wake you, corners of his mouth twitching when you make an incoherent noise at the feeling. 

he grabs a damp towel, warily cleaning the mess. he's careful when he redresses you, slipping on a clean pair of underwear and pulling the straps of your top over your shoulders, kissing either joint before lying down next to you. he pulls the covers up, starkly reminded of how cold you keep the room, holding your hand as he falls asleep too. 

your eyes flit open hours later at the feel of his fingers skimming over your face. rays of sunlight peek through the gap in the curtain. you look up at him, already staring down at you.

“creep,” you rasp, though there's no malice behind your words.

“i'm sorry, i didn’t mean to wake you,” he apologises.

“which time?”

“both,” he lets out sheepishly.

“it’s okay, i'm not,” you counter as you throw an arm over him and tuck yourself into his side.

he wraps his around you in turn, smiling into your hair. you rest your chin on his chest, half-lidded eyes staring into his wide eyed brown ones.

“what time is it?” you inquire, too lazy to check the clock that sat atop your bedside table.

“late,” he says, running his hand down your arm and up again.

“i’m hungry, i want pancakes. can we make pancakes?”

“we can make whatever you want, sweetheart,” he answers, prompting you to grin and spring upright.

you notice the clothes on your body and you stick your bottom lip out, “you’re sweet.” you look at him a moment longer, eyes following the features of his face in awe. you pull him up to hug him tightly.

“oh, i’m so happy you’re home.” you chirp giddily.

he squeezes you, “they say absence makes the heart grow fonder.”

you let go of him, jumping out of the bed. “yeah, well. sex does that too.”

[commandershepardvasfuckit]

There’s a learning curve that comes with being married to someone who wasn’t human. Even more so when it was an arranged marriage and you were sort of just tossed into it.

Your husband was a good man though, a towering 8.5ft tall monster with elephant-like tusks and a whole culture you were still learning, be he took care of you well.

The first time you got your period living together he had no idea what was going on, but happily waiting on you hand and foot. Making sure he brought you pain medicine, snacks, and rubbed your aching joints.

The second time, he walked in on you desperately rubbing your clit to relax some of the cramps away. You were embarrassed beyond words, not that you hadn’t already slept together, but it was still quite the situation to be caught in.

“You know, I can help with that too” he shrugged and sat down the snacks he was bringing for you.

“It’s fine, it’s messy” you shrugged and stopped.

“I don’t care. You know I don’t mind blood” he responded.

“It’s fine”.

“Will it help you feel better?”

“Yeah”

“Then let me” he pushed.

You were not entirely sure what he had in mind, but he seemed pretty eager to help.

“Ok” you conceded.

He wasted no time helping you undress and peppering you with little kisses before settling down to kneel between your legs.

“Oh no no no, you really don’t have to” you began.

“I want to” he said as he lifted your hips up so he could tuck his tusks under you.

You felt his tongue immediately on your clit, the pressure and movements you liked, even better you felt the vibrations from his purring against your clit. He continued, working you over until you were a mewling mess. Once he was satisfied he slipped his tongue between your folds and then pressed into your entrance.

Within minutes you were already close. Between his large tongue giving you a pleasant stretch and the vibrations of his purring. You reached down to pull in his hair, needing to touch him any way you could reach, which only encouraged him more. His tongued was constantly against your g-spot and you enjoyed how every time he seemed to try to explore every inch of you.

He came from a species that did not normally go down, tusks got in the way too much, but once he learned it was an option he made sure to learn how to for you. It was always somewhat of an inelegant affair, his mouth open too far, drooling, no technique, but he did make up for it in sheer enthusiasm.

Your toes curled and you felt the familiar build and release as tingly waves of pleasure diffuse from head to toe. It was nothing intense this time, but he continued well after you finished, making sure beyond a doubt you were sleepy and satisfied.

He finally surfaced, leaning his head against your thigh and looking up at you with such a soft expression, “Feeling better?” he asked.

“For sure” you sighed and affectionately scratched his head.

He got up and went to go clean himself up and returned with clean sheets for the bed after everything. After settling down in bed with you he pulled you up against his chest, your back to him, and put his hands on your tummy, the best hot water bottle for cramps.

You fell asleep easily like that, feeling satisfied and cared for, and happy knowing you could probably swap a few doses of pain medicine for some time with your husband.

(Note: I kept it general, but the husband is from my ongoing Arranged Marriage series in my pinned post!)

[pitchsidestories]

el sueño de una niña II Jenni Hermoso x Reader

masterlist I word count: 2175

a/n: dear readers, the inspiration for this oneshot was Jenni Hermoso's speech at the Ballon d'Or ceremony, enjoy. 🖤💜

“Wait, I know that you’re a football player. Why did you come from my mamis bedroom?”

Jenni was on her way to sneak out of your appartement but when that small voice held her back. Curiously she turned the head around to look into the eyes of a little girl who the Spaniard estimated to be between five to six years old.

That must have been your daughter Mila Jenni thought to herself. It was the big confession after the great night the two of you had spent together.

Something in the reveal activated her flight mode, the forward’s plan was to leave and never look back. Her life was so chaotic she didn’t feel ready to be a part of a family.

Even though everything about yesterday touched her more than Jenni wanted to admit. Images of it flashed behind her eyes capturing passion, beauty and love. 

“Uhm.. you didn’t see me, okay?”, the raven-haired woman returned the question flustered.

“But you’re the Jenni Hermoso, right? The one who won the World cup with Spain.”, Mila looked at her big-eyed, her voice full of adoration.

“Yes, but don’t tell anyone.”, Jenni replied, pressing a finger to her lips to underline her words.

“Wow.”, the little girl whispered amazed.

“Sorry, I really need to leave now. I’ve a speech to write.”, the striker apologized.

This didn’t stop Mila to confide in the older woman. “I’d love to be a football player like you when I’m grown up.”

“You do?”, something of your daughter’s sincerity made Jenni stay despite her announcement earlier that she needed to go.

“Yes.”, the girl emphasized.

“Hm..”

“It’s a big dream of mine.”, Mila added smiling shily.

“You’ll have to work hard for it.”, the Spaniard told her seriously.

“I can do that.”, your daughter assured her.

“And people will try to keep you from it.. they will tear you down and hope you’ll be compliant.”, Jenni continued gravely, kneeing down so she could look into the girl’s eyes.

“Did they do that with you?”, Mila questioned empathetically, placing her small hand carefully to the dark-haired woman’s cheek.

“Yes. All my life. So, promise me one thing, okay?”, she confirmed.

“Okay?”

“Don’t let anyone tell you what you can and cannot be. Promise?”, Jenni pressed a kiss to your daughter’s fingers.

“I promise.”, Mila answered solemnly.

“If you excuse me now.”, the older woman gave her an apologetic look.

“Bye, Jenni. I hope I’ll see you back soon.”, the girl said in an optimistic tone that left no doubt that the football player would return to your appartement.

“We’ll see. Thank you though.”, Jenni answered gratefully.

“Thank you for what?”, your daughter frowned confused.

“You just gave me an idea for my speech.”, the football player’s face lit up with excitement as she spoke.

Jenni shuffled the pieces of papers once more while someone applied her make up for the Ballon D’Or ceremony.

The writing on her notes was almost illegible, she had scribbled down her thoughts way too quickly on her way to the venue. It didn’t matter. She knew now what she wanted to say on stage. Still, she refused to let go of her notes.

“Jenni, have you actually prepared a speech?”

Alexias face appeared behind her in the mirror, She was already in her suit, her hair pulled into a low bun.

Jenni was about to complain about the surprised tone of Alexias voice when Patri joined them: “No way! I thought you’d just start talking like you always do.“

Jenni raised one eyebrow at the reflection of her two Spanish teammates and grinned: “That was the initial plan but I had a better idea.“

“Did someone spark your inspiration?”, Marta asked innocently.

Once the make-up artist let go of her face, she turned towards them and nodded: “Yes. And I hope she’s watching.“

Her teammates exchanged unreadable glances without saying a word while Jenni walked past them, leading the way to the award ceremony.

For what felt like hours, they sat there and listened to men talk. Jennis gaze kept going back to the clock, willing the time to slow down or the speakers to talk faster so Mila had a chance to watch before her bedtime.

Finally, she was called up on stage to receive her award. There was applause but she knew a lot of the people weren’t satisfied with her nomination. She held onto her notes and it all faded into the background once she started speaking about the little girl that wanted to follow in her footsteps, the girl that deserved to have a safer environment to play football in.

Her teammates welcomed her back to her seat with standing ovations. Alexia nodded at her once with a set jaw while Aitana gave her an inquiring look: “You dedicated it to a young girl? Who’s that?”

“Someone I met this morning.“, Jenni replied truthfully as she sat down.

“She seems to have left quite an impression on you.“, Caroline remarked.

“She did. Sometimes I wonder why I put up with all this shit… but there are so many little girls out there that should have it better than we did back then.“

“I agree with that.“, Alexia chimed in.

Marta nodded in agreement: “Me too, obviously. We had to put up with a lot.“

“Let’s be honest, we still do.“, Aitana whispered.

Jenni answered with new-found determination: “Yes but until she gets older, we might have already changed some more things.“

“I bet we will.“, Salma said quietly, before they all went quiet again and focused on the next award recipient.

Much to the surprise of her national and former club teammates Jenni announced at the after party, the alcohol-free wine glass still resting in her hand untouched. “I think I’m going to leave.”

“Leave?”, Patri repeated puzzled.

“Yeah, this party is boring anyway.”, the striker shrugged. The other women secretly thought the same, they couldn’t celebrate like the men around them as they were having a national team game the next morning.

 Seeing Jenni step into your apartment while she still wore her glamorous dark suit jacket showing a large portion of her skin underneath felt almost unreal to you. It wasn’t that long ago when Mila and you watched the ballon d’or ceremony on tv and now she was back in flesh and blood. The football player was even more gorgeous here than on the screen.

Quickly Jenni revealed that the celebrations had bored her which was the moment you told her about your night.

“Mila stayed awake the whole time, she didn’t want to fall asleep until you were on the stage, Jenni.”

“She watched?”, the dark-haired woman asked happily.

“Yes, Mila loved everything about your speech.”, you nodded thrilled by the fact that your excitement was mirrored in the forward’s face.

“I’ve to thank her. She inspired me.”, she confessed.

“You inspired her as well.”, you admitted smiling.  

“Even if she’s the only one, I reached my goal.”, Jenni beamed.

“To be fair I think you inspired many more with your words.”, you remarked solemnly.

“I hope so.”, the dark-haired woman sighed.

“Trust me.”, you answered softly.

After a meaningful pause you added. “I almost thought you wouldn’t call or wanted to see me again back then you left without a word in the morning.”

“That would sound like me actually.”, the footballer cleared her throat nervously. She loved to play the game, haunting for the next great beauty to court and lay down in bed with before going on the haunt again, always being a restless player. All was fair in love and football.

“She’ll appreciate the thank you though, it’ll mean a lot to her.”, you said while you bit your lip.

“That’s why I’m here. I want to thank you both.”, Jenni looked at you sincerely.

“Shouldn’t you be at the grand afterparty sipping champagne and flirting with pretty women?”, you lifted an eyebrow curiously.

“Not many women there that aren’t my teammates. And I’m not allowed to drink, I’ve to be back with my national team tomorrow.”, the striker chuckled amused.

“I see.”

“And maybe I preferred to spend my time here.”, she acknowledged, one hand ran tensely through her long hair.

You considered her for a moment and nodded in the direction of Milas bedroom: “Sadly she’s already asleep…“

“That’s okay. I could stay if you let me.“

You knew you should have thought about it for longer but you couldn’t resist the thought of Jenni staying one more night: “Yes, you can. If you promise to say goodbye in the morning.“

“If I was planning to sneak out again, I wouldn’t have told you.“, Jenni half-joked.

You tilted your head: “Good point.“

“So?”

“You can stay the night.“, you finally confirmed.

Relief seemed to flash across Jennis face for a millisecond: “Thanks.“

“You’re welcome, Jenni.“

The next morning you were woken up by footsteps on the wooden floor. Your heart sank immediately, thinking it was Jenni breaking her promise so you refused to turn around. You didn’t want to watch her leave again. Instead you heard a tiny voice whisper in awe: “Jenni!”

“Woah, you’re already awake, little one. Good morning.“, Jenni yawned and stretched right next to you.

She was still here, still in your bed.

“I saw you! Last night!”, Mila said full of excitement.

“You did? And did you like my suit? It’s on that chair.“, Jenni smiled, pointing across the room.

You watched as Mila walked over and gently touched the fabric in awe.

“It’s beautiful.“

“Right? Next year I’ll take you and your mum with me.“, the football player said, winking at you as if to tell you that she knew you were awake.

While the smile fell from your face, Milas eyes lit up: “What? Really?”

“Yes, why not?”

You might have been desperate for her to stay another night but you weren’t delusional. Who knew where the two of you were in a year? Most likely not sharing a bed anymore.

“Don’t promise her too much.“, you warned the football player.

Jenni was unusually quiet before replied: “I… mean it.“

“You mean it?”

“I do. I want to keep seeing you and her.“, she said with determination.

Milas eyes had been darting back and forth between the two of you like she was watching a tennis match. “We want to keep seeing you too!”, she yelled happily.

Completely ignoring you, Jenni turned back to your daughter and pulled her onto the bed: “Would you like to see a football game in Italy tonight?”

Mila was bursting with joy: “Yes!”

“I mean isn’t that too spontaneous? Like what about the airplane tickets?“, you interjected.

“I can take care of it all. But only if that’s okay with you.“, Jenni offered while Mila put on her best puppy eyes: “Pleeease.“

Who were you to deny your daughter such a once in a lifetime opportunity?

With a hesitant nod, you finally agreed: “Okay.“

The day has flown by, Mila and you quickly packed your bag for one night, before following your lover to get on the plane. While the striker was on the team walk, your daughter and you did your own exploring the Italian surroundings. It was like a daydream from which you didn’t want to wake up.

In the evening, you could feel from the stands Jennis glances on you who was standing on the pitch with some of her friends. Next to you Mila couldn’t hide her excitement seeing her favourite players live. It genuinely warmed your heart to witness and share that special moment with your child.

“Pretty girl from next door? She’s so your type, Jenni.”, Laia Codina wiggled her eyebrows.

“That’s why she’s here.”, the forward winked at the defender.

With a smirk on her face Alexia bumped her elbow into her teammates side. “Who would’ve thought that Jennifer found herself a family.”

“Strange things happen, Ale.”, Jenni shrugged with her shoulders.

“Yes, it’s Halloween soon.”, Vicky threw in teasingly.

“Rude.”, the older striker commented smiling.

“Vicky.”, the Barcelona captain clicked her tongue reprovingly.

The test game ended in a draw, but that didn’t stop Jenni from giving you a passionate kiss.

“That wasn’t very subtle, Jenni.”, you laughed.

“I don’t care about subtle anymore.”, she clarified grinning.

“What about the others watching?”, you asked her, cheeks flushed.

“They just love to stare at pretty girls.”, Jenni stated firmly.

“Pretty girls, hm?”, you repeated. Admittedly under her intense gaze you felt more beautiful than ever before. She didn’t hide her desire towards you and wasn’t afraid to show it in the public.

“Yes.”, she confirmed.

“Kiss me again.”, you requested, your voice slightly hoarse from cheering. Before you even could finish your sentence, her lips were on yours, making both of your hearts flutter.

Everything started with a dream of a little girl which was your daughter, in which Jenni saw her younger self, Mila undoubtedly became her inspiration for the speech. The three of you would now dream together.

Keep dreaming.

gif source: https://www.tumblr.com/imverits/765621490900238336?source=share

[aakeysmash]

prompt:

reader getting injured because she slipped in the shower, sukuna has to help her get to the hospital, where reader gets some pain meds making her kinda high. she confesses to him while being high

content: fluff, crack. reader is in the hospital and blood is named but there’s no gore. yuuji and sukuna are siblings. i love sukuna and i need him in my life so bad… someone PLS be my sukuna

“So, just to be sure: one margherita for me and one with sausage for you?” Asks you Yuuji while putting on his shoes.

“Yup,” you answer, popping the p. “Can I just have a quick shower while you’re gone?”

“Uhhh, sure, let me go ask Sukuna,” your friend tells you smiling and rushing up the stairs of his home.

You and Yuuji have been best friends since forever. You remember the first time you both cried your eyes out at the park in kindergarten because a lizard had just eaten the ladybug you had been watching for half an hour. Since that moment you’ve been attached at the hip, your homework filled afternoons in high school turning to pizza nights when both of your work schedules allowed you to now.

“Big bro said sure,” comes Yuuji’s voice from the end of the staircase.

“I did in fact not say that,” growls Sukuna from behind him. Sukuna is the same age as you and Yuuji, but he always seemed older. Sometimes wiser, but sure as hell more annoying than his brother. Hotter, too, but that’s a topic for another time.

“I didn’t ask you to join me, big boy,” you say sarcastically, fake smiling. He crosses his arms, leveling you with a bored look.

“Yuu, if you aren’t fast enough you’re not going to find her corpse when you get back,” he tells his brother, still staring you up and down. Yuuji sighs, tired, then opens the front door.

“Make sure to not kill each other. I have a shift after this, stop bickering. You two act like siblings more than I do with you, Sukuna,” he reprimands you both. You and his brother roll your eyes at the same time, then you push him out, closing the door in his face. You turn around and find yourself face to face with Sukuna's menacing grin.

“You have 5 minutes before I come knock at the bathroom door with a kitchen knife, doll.”

You’re scrubbing yourself clean with a random pine body wash you found in the shower when the playlist you put before entering the stall stops. You’re annoyed, because now you’re forced to listen to Sukuna’s ugly songs from the bathroom wall (that he’s blasting just to annoy you), so you try to reach your phone. You’re on your tippy toes, not wanting to get out completely, when you trip and fall since you didn’t wash the soap away from your body. You bump your head on the sink in front of the shower, hard, and you muffle a whine. You close your eyes as hard as you can and open the shower head with the room spinning inside your skull.

“Don’t open your eyes, don’t open your eyes or you’ll fall… fuck, it hurts so bad,” you tell yourself while you speed run the end of the shower and blindly put your shirt over your head. It’s not the first time you've bumped your head on something, you were a crazy kid, so you’ve learned to open your eyes only when you physically can’t function anymore or you'll start seeing stars immediately. You barely get to put your pants on when you notice your forehead feels wet, and you didn't even wash your hair. As you get out of the bathroom wobbling you touch your head. When you open your eyes, you see blood on your hand. The room spins. You barely have time to look up and watch Sukuna coming out of his bedroom frowning before seeing black dots in your vision.

You try opening your eyes, but they feel so heavy. Your body feels rather stiff. What's this smell?

"Oh, she's waking up," a female voice softly says from somewhere next to your right.

"Thank you, miss, I got it from here," a rough voice responds.

"Make sure she drinks a lot, and keep a couple of painkillers near you. The scans show she doesn't have any internal damage, but she hit her head pretty hard. She's going to have a big bruise for a couple of days," the female voice continues. You hear the man making a sound of affirmation.

There’s a brief pause. "Your wife is very lucky. It's not every day that a man takes a woman up four flights of stairs by simple arm strength," the woman concludes sweetly, getting out of the room after he responds with a grunt and closing the door behind her.

"Your ass is lucky I lied or they wouldn’t have let me in, dumbass. Open your eyes, I know you're awake," the voice you now recognise as Sukuna says, getting closer. You try opening your eyes, managing to focus your gaze on him. Everything feels so fluffy, apart from your throat. You cough, and you think you see him rolling his eyes before getting you a glass of water and sitting beside you on a chair. You gulp it down, still feeling fuzzy, then you blink a couple of times.

You gape at him. He's cute. “You look funny,” you say, poking his cheek. He’s so squishy. Like a little mochi. A little mochi filled with strawberries. Strawberries and cream. He slaps your finger away, and you put on a hurt expression. He huffs.

“Why am I here?” You ask. The more you look at him, the more heads he seems to have.

“You fell in the bathroom,” he says, straightening up from the chair and covering your right leg with the duvet the hospital gave you. You raise an eyebrow at his gesture, and he just rolls his eyes again. “Don’t want you to also catch a cold. Yuuji would kill my ass.” You just hum.

“I caught ya when you already fainted. Yuuji came back home and panicked, but he couldn’t back out from work, so I was stuck with your ass. Took ya here but the elevator broke down. And I ate your pizza, by the way. All this is gonna cost ya 200 dollars, cash,” he lists, sprawling back onto his chair, deadpan.

Silence engulfs the both of you, and you don’t know what to say. You heard what the nurse said and you are searching for a way to bring it up, but the words in your mind are all scrambled. It’s probably the morphine that you realise they gave you, IV still attached to your left arm. You open your mouth to say something along the lines of “I’d like to thank your gym membership for this,” but instead the words that leave your mouth are-

“I’d like you to be my husband.”

His eyes snap to your widening ones. “Wait that wasn’t what-“

“Huh?” He just replies, dumbfounded. You panic, waving your hands in the air between you two.

“No, what I meant was- like- thank you for getting me up here- can you stop looking at me with your weird 16 eyes?- not that you aren’t attractive! You’re super hot! But that’s not- oh god,” you whimper, rubbing your face, noticing how you’re just making the situation worse. You prepare yourself for his snarky comeback, closing your eyes, but everything is silent.

Suddenly, you hear him snort. You crack your eyes open, touching the big cotton gauze they put on your forehead. You must be hearing things. It’s definitely the morphine, there’s no way Sukuna is actually laughing.

“Yes, I’m laughing, doll,” he says, chuckling. You widen your eyes.

“I said that out loud, didn’t I?” You cringe.

“Yeah, you kinda did,” he responds, smirking. You groan.

“Take me out to dinner first, damn,” he yawns. You jut your bottom lip out, frowning and giving him your middle finger. Then you register his words.

“You’d come? I mean, if I asked you out.”

“Well, if you’re paying,” he responds, shrugging. That’s still a yes, isn’t it?

He ruffles up his pink hair, black t-shirt straining across his bicep. You can’t contain the urge to poke the muscle.

“Stop touching me like I’m made of play dough, doll,” he sighs, slightly less annoyed than 5 minutes ago.

“Would you let me play with you if you were made of play dough?” you ask, words a little slurred, still poking his arm, and he flexes it. “Don’t show off,” you mumble.

“You’re even weirder when you’re drugged,” he grins. He kinda looks scary, though. If you didn’t know him, you’d piss yourself by looking at his sharp teeth.

“But would you or would you not?” You whine, dragging out the last word, letting your hand fall next to you. He misses the warmth of your hand, so instead, he just puts his on your thigh. To be warm, of course. The room is so cold. Yeah. Definitely because of the missing heat.

“Yeah doll, I would.”

[beautifullilacsky]

Babygirl. We have come so far.

Today, your thoughts turned around to the past. They shook hands with the way we used to treat ourselves. It started off on a note I'd never expect it to start off of, though; look at that picture of me, the one in the natural pool in Madeira. The first time I looked at it, I was truly surprised and shooketh. "Damn, I look thin", as to which niklas said that that's how I always look, I am, in fact, thin. I didn't count, but I think I asked him at least 3 times. "Do I truly look like this?" He did say that the angle might be making me look extra thin, but yes. Suddenly, it all clicked. How to him, I can seem so fragile. So fragile that he'd always let me walk first on hikes to make sure the pace is okay, always carrying the backpack himself. The way he is scared of hurting me, like, physically. The picture looks like a tiny, thin, and fragile girl. Yeah tbh, she also doesn't look particularly strong. You can see her collarbones. Her ribs. Her shoulders. Tbh, she also looks a bit like a petshop. I do think the gopro did something with the angle there, u can't tell me my head is out of proportion to my tiny body, lol. My point is. Today, I was doubting whether or not I should eat those cookies. After thinking if it'd make me thick, I remembered. I am v thin, more weight wouldn't be so bad.

I never expected to truly feel skinny. Or well, 'too skinny', at least. To think I could gain some weight; it wouldn't be a problem. That is very new to me. After 25 years. Some of those years being spend hating my body and my belly and feeling overweight, even if my teacher even told me that being underweight is dangerous, her eyes seemingly insinuating the obvious.

Yet here I am. This one picture. And tbh, the other pics or videos of this vacation, don't have the same vibe. So I do think it's the angle. And maybe a bit of a fishbowl effect. Either way. It got me thinking. And suddenly I was thinking of it again: boobs. I am also reading 'the 7 husband's of Evelyn Hugo', who seduced men with her big boobs. Somehow, booby enlargement came to my mind again. Why? It's been so long. I have learned to love my boobs, yet this blast of the past came into my head. Actually,.. it is just a thought. It is actually nice. A reminder of where we came from.

How I hated my body in the past. And here I am. Loving every single part of it. Frankly, I love my boobs the way they are. Sure, they might not be super big, but I don't need to hold them when I run or sprint down the stairs. Sure, they are soft in the middle instead of pointy, but I think it's fascinating how certain temperatures, moods and touches can change that. Sure, they don't touch, but at least it also won't create a hot brew in there or trap my clothes inbetween or underneath my boobs. Honestly, they are truly perfect. (Even the little pimple on there right now. Even though I am a bit scared; is it truly a pimple? It should be, it behaves like one for sure.) I can cup one into my hand; it is a perfect fit. As if they were made to be held so gently and smoothly. So filled with love. So, ... true. My hand can touch all of its beautiful creases. They don't overflow my hands, nor do I need to search to find them. Sure, some might have bigger boobs, but not everyone likes that. Some people get attention just because of it. I am truly happy to be able to say that a lot of people just like me for my personality. The looks are for sure also there, but at least my boobs don't get eye-fucked or objectified. I am myself. Perfect the way I am. And I am grateful to be this exact way. I think my boobs are adorable, they are cute, and truly. Truly beautiful. Thanks boobs, for being w me always. And I'm sorry that I didn't see the beauty of you guys for a part of my life. I am happy that I do now, since a while. Love u, boobies. Lol.

Anyhow. I wish to send myself love letters. See this is a loveletter to one of the bodyparts which I was insecure about in the past. Let me show them some true love, which is exactly what they deserve.

[cherubunie]

sleepy girl ~ park sunghoon x reader

just late night thoughts about hoonie ♡

word count: 800

dom! songhoon x sub! reader. heavy daddy kink, little bits of somnophilia if you squint , sunghoon loves you so much , he's so sweet its giving me cavities , sub space , fingering , praise

imagine sitting in hoonie’s lap as you sleepily rest your head on his shoulder while he studies or plays video games.

the feeling of his body against yours instantly makes you feel safe and calm , your body relaxes into his as he focuses on whatever has his attention at that moment

it’s not long until you feel one of his hands snake down below the waistband of your flimsy panties, pressing a cold finger against your clit which instantly wakes you up from your sleepy daze. he would rub slow , lazy circles on your clit as cute , quiet whimpers begin to drip off your tongue.

the hold you have wrapped around sunghoons neck tightens , using him as leverage so you don’t slip away from your body - but it happens anyways.

your mind slips away as you begin to mewl , stars beginning to cloud your vision while you slowly grind your hips into his lap.

sunghoons fingers slip through your wet folds , one of his digits pushing inside your pretty , fluttering hole all prepped and ready for him.

you feel so small in his hands , your body tiredly squirming in his hold as he plays with you in his lap , the way your wetness pools in his palm and into your panties and down your thighs embarrasses you - but not as badly as the pathetic , nasty squelching sounds that vibrate from your pussy as sunghoon fingers you on top of him , making you a whiney, filthy little mess

your mentality begins to fall from your grasp and right into your boyfriends , and he can tell by the way your sounds change pitch and your helpless squirming that you're gone.

"shh sweetheart , daddy's got you little one" he says , his fingers curling up inside you in order to kiss that sweetest spot deep in your core . you shake in his hole , whining incoherent phrases as he splits you open on his lap with his fingers.

sunghoon just wants to please his little baby , you've been such a good girl for him recently and you looked so cute and helpless in his lap- sleeping so soundly that he couldnt help himself , he just had to let his precious angel how much he loves her and how good she's been - he wants to let her know how she deserves to feel good and loved, so that's what he does.

"such a good girl for daddy , I love you so much my sweet girl" he would whisper in your ear , kissing the warm skin of your neck right after. sunghoons fingers would pump inside you at a nice , steady rhythm , coaxing you to the finish line

"mmm , wan' cum , daddy wan cum please" you ask so sweetly , your eyes closing as the feeling of tiredness begins to wash over you. sunghoon coo's at you , ignoring the feeling of his hard cock in his boxers .

he's focusing on you and you alone , the need to make you feel good - safe even - overwhelming his senses. he completely ignores his needs and puts you before himself as he fingers your tight little pussy, the sound of your hushed mewls and squelching echoing in the chambers of sunghoons mind.

he feels your walls flutter around his fingers , the grip you have around his neck tightening as your legs begin to shake - he can tell you're close. your breasts press up against his chest as you curl into his touch , your hands gripping onto his shoulders while digging your nails into his skin through the frabric of his shirt , hard .

your hips messily grind down into his lap as sunghoons fingers work faster inside you , kissing the soft skin of your neck and leaving his pretty purple marks in a trail.

"p-please , can I cum please daddy" you ask so nicely , sunghoon's heart feeling like its about to burst in his chest. he removes his head from your neck , his free hand coming to wrap around his body to hold you closer to his , his hand finding the back of your head in order to tuck your face into his chest .

he kisses the top of your head as he holds you close , the rhythm of his fingers never faltering

"cum for me darling , I've got you baby - im here" your orgasm washes over you; the ribbon that was once knotted in the put of your abdomen unravels and you cream all over sunghoons fingers , tiny mewls and whimpers dance off your tongue and into his chest

"there you go sweetheart , such a good girl for me" he praises while you cum , your body going limp in his hold.

you've never felt so safe - so loved than you do now in this very moment ; sunghoon coaxing you to finish as he holds you so tightly that if he were to let go - you would slip through his fingers. he kisses the top of your head sweetly while you continue to shake in his grasp, coming down from your orgasm he so nicely graciously gifted you as you fall asleep in his arms.

[silverskye13]

Silver's Care Guide for the Impulsively Inclined:

Hi, did you just receive bad news? Are you one of the many many people who, upon receiving bad news, react with self destructive spirals, or lash out in a need for control? Are you just really fucking sad, or angry, and would like an alternative to hurting yourself and others? Are you just feeling a little manic or impulsive?

Welcome to my handy guide for alternative (self) destruction! These are alternatives to physical and immediate harm to your person. That does not necessarily mean they are safe, just safer, and they are all things I've done before to mixed results. With that in mind.

Remember the golden rule: if what you're doing cannot be fixed, repaired, or healed within an hour, don't fucking do it. You have one body, and one life, and regardless of what your thoughts say in the moment, that body and life is necessary for your future happiness. Prioritize yourself; harm objects instead.

Alternatives to harming yourself or others:

Kick something loud. A tin can. A plastic bag. Take it to an outdoor space and see how far you can kick it, and how loud a sound you can make. If you have multiple objects to kick, listen to the differences in sound. How one thing sounds hollow and another rattles.

Kick something soft. A pillow. A hackey-sack. Take it to an outdoor space, or kick it against a sturdy wall (I recommend brick or stone). Listen to the sound of the batting, or the beans. See what shapes you can get it to land in, and how deep a divot your foot can leave.

Tear paper. Get a cheap notebook, some old bills you don't need, note cards or old magazines. See how big of pieces you can make. Put several sheets in your hand and see how thick the paper can get before you can't tear it anymore. See how thin of strips you can tear. Experiment with folding it into shapes and trying to tear along the lines.

Do a very small controlled burn. Newspaper, a cheap notebook from the dollar store, a handful of old homework assignments you don't need, a candle, etc. The best objects are ones made to burn such as matches or candles. In lieu of that, focus specifically on paper, as it will have fewer chemicals/fumes that can damage your lungs if you inhale smoke. Take it to a well ventilated place, the floor of a concrete garage, your driveway, an empty lot or sidewalk. If you have a burn barrel or fire pit, use it. If you have no access to any of these things, make the burn very small [less than half a page at a time] and confine it to your sink. If your building has automatic sprinkler systems, don't do this. Light one edge of your paper on fire and watch it curl. See if you can burn small, individual poke-holes in the page. If you are lighting a candle, watch the wax melt. See if you can light one match using another. When a match is used, try and burn what's left of the stick. If you want some extra catharsis, write a person you hate, a source of your angst, or just general thoughts on the paper you're burning.

Throw rocks. Go outside and touch grass -- and look for rocks while you're there. All sizes are fair game, but the bigger they are, the harder they are to throw. I recommend something the size of a marble. Gather a number of rocks and throw them one at a time, trying to hit targets like trees or fence posts. If you can find a convenient body of water, throw them in there and listen to the splash.

Skip rocks. Skipping rocks across the top of the water can also be a fun challenge to use your aggression on. For skipping rocks specifically, you want a stone that is smooth and flat. Hold it between your forefinger and your thumb, and throw sideways in an arcing motion. You are trying to get the rock to spin. The combination of the spin, and the force, and the flat side hitting the water, causes the skip. I average 3 skips per stone. Beat my average. My Papa, who taught me, used to routinely get 5-7 skips. Beat him after you beat me.

Play a violent or fast paced video game. Most people have games on their mobile or console devices these days. Pick something quick, with low investment and high reward. Shoot-em-ups and arcade games. Something with a number that ticks up, and stock zombies you can kill. Try to beat your high score, or aim for an exact number. My lucky number is 13, so I will often try to score a number that's a multiple of 13.

Break glass. This one requires some investment to do legally and safely. Note: I am not telling you to throw rocks at people's windows or vandalize property. This is an alternative to those things. Find or obtain (I buy mine at Michael's for $10) some glass panes. They can be multicolored if you're feeling fun. Cover a pane in an old sheet or the plastic bag you bought it in. With a thick soled shoe or a rubber mallet, smash it. Try to make fun shapes with the pieces. Listen to the crunch. Keep a broom and dustpan ready, and make sure you have dedicated time to clean the mess. There is nothing worse than walking barefoot through a room and cutting open your foot.

Smash pumpkins, guards, watermelon, etc. Exactly what it says on the tin. Grab your murder-able vegetable of choice and a weapon (stick, hammer, sword, axe, etc) and go wild. Make as big a mess as you can. I mean absolutely destroy that fruit. If you aren't covered in the blood of your prey, have you really won? Take a long shower afterwards, and wear clothes you don't mind staining. Too depressed to clean up the mess? It's fruit. The local wildlife will thank you. Though if it's summer, you may get ants/bees.

Switch a tree. Find a switch. If your parents never made you pick your own switch, congratulations. If they did, you know exactly what you're looking for. Grab a stick, something green and flexible and long -- whip like. Go to the tree you wish to switch, and smack the shit out of it. You can also do this to bushes. Try to make the whip-crack noise, listen to the whistle of the branch through the air. See if you can take the individual leaves off a branch. Smack the shit out the tree with your switch until the switch breaks. If you're still feeling angry and impulsive, rinse and repeat.

Alternatives to moping sadly / wallowing in self pity:

Write a list of things you enjoy. This is just to remind you that you do have joy in life, actually. Focus on finding the smallest things possible, the ones that are truly niche to you and you alone. An example for me would be the strange purple-red color your veins take on when bright light is shining through them. I could stare at that color for ages. I'm talking really strange, personal joys. The way a sharpie brand pen clicks. How saying a word too much turns it into not-a-word. Make a list of those things.

Find a favorite texture and run your hands over it. Over and over. Obsessively. If this texture happens to be a pet, all the better! If not, that is also fine. My favorite texture is running my fingers through my hair when I've put hair gel in it. The feeling of detangling it with my fingers, all the sharp brittle hairs loosening into softness again, is the most cathartic in the world. Close second is my fingernails on very cheap construction paper, the pulpy stuff they give to kindergartners. Pass your hands through the texture until it loses its allure. Listen to the sounds it makes when you run your hands across/through it. Smell it, and smell your hands after you've touched it. Rub it on other parts of your body, like your arms or your neck. Try to pick it up with your feet.

Eat your favorite food. I don't give two shits about calories. This is comfort. If you don't have access to your favorite food, or it is too hard to cook with the energy levels you have, get the closest approximation you can find, or get your second favorite. Eat it slowly. Try to pick the tastes apart on your tongue. Make obnoxious noises while you eat, or eat it in a way you normally wouldn't. Eat ice cream with chopsticks. Eat soup with a butter knife. Lick pudding off the tines of a fork. Use your hands I don't care. Slurp out of the bowl like a dog. Pretend you're a caveman. Get stupid and silly. It's food. It's food. It's food. Enjoy every moment of it!

Tell a friend how awesome they are. Pop into their inbox and ask them about their day. Call them and ask for five minutes of their time. Invite them to dinner. You don't have to get super heartfelt if you're scared of being weird. Just say "Hey, have I told you you're awesome recently? Because you are." Be prepared to list at least one reason why.

Go cry about it. Seriously. In the words of my boss, "Sounds like you need to drink a bottle of wine, put on the saddest episode of your favorite TV show, and have a good sob fest." Crying is a releasing of built up chemicals in your brain, which is why people sometimes cry when they're happy or pissed -- you've got too many emotions inside and you need to literally put them outside. So if you're feeling the Miseries and need a quick release, give yourself a reason to cry and go for it. And I'm not talking like, tasteful wife mourning her husband lost to war with a single stoic tear down her face. Get ugly. Sob your eyes out. Scream, and wail, and thrash. Pretend you're an Irish widow who's just lost her child to famine and dirge. Lament. Do that thing in the Bible where people are so upset they tear at their clothes. When you're done, breathe, and breathe, and breathe again. That feels... Better. Doesn't it?

Listen to calming music, or sing/hum a song. This one might just be a me thing, but it is hard to be truly miserable when there's a soundtrack playing in your thoughts. This works best if the music you're listening to has no words, and is calming. We are not looking for sad mixes on YouTube. We are looking for lofi, and orchestra, and rainy mood. Something to dampen thought, not enhance it. I like putting on rain sounds and humming as I walk through my house. It lets me take action while still providing background noise I can rely on.

And that's about it, I think. I hope! My scattering of thoughts can help you! Or at least get you thinking about what works best for you. Feel free to add your own thoughts in the comments and I will try to reblog them!

Remember: we are prioritizing the safety of self here. This is to curb impulses for self harm, and self destruction, and the harming of others. Above all else, stay safe.

You've got this. I believe in you.

[pandapetals]

You're Too Good for Me

Logan has a nightmare which causes him to spiral thinking you deserve better. He hurts your feelings then tries to make up for it.

professor logan howlett x professor fem!reader - established relationship (y'all married), cute, fluff, teasing, no y/n used, no reader description, your an english professor, logan is a history professor - imagine days of future past logan with the white streaks in his hair

a/n: request from anon and i ran with it. I’m on my period so im emotional. also i think the song head over feet by alanis morissette describes their relationship perfectly.

read on ao3 or find more parts for the series: here

Logan hadn’t had a nightmare like this in a long time—dark, violent, pulling him back to places he thought he’d managed to bury. He woke up gasping, drenched in cold sweat, fists clenched so tightly that his knuckles had turned white. He barely registered your hands on his shoulders, your soft voice coaxing him back to reality.

"Logan," you whispered, brushing a hand gently through his hair. "It’s okay. You’re safe. I’m here."

As he sat up, breathing ragged, he could feel the old shame tightening in his chest, coiling around his heart like a vise. You didn’t deserve this. You didn’t deserve to be woken up in the middle of the night to deal with his demons, his scars that never truly healed.

In the dim light, he glanced at you, your concerned eyes, the gentle way you held him as though he were something fragile. Something that needed fixing. And it cut deeper than he expected.

"Go back to sleep," he mumbled, pulling away from your touch, trying to put space between you. "You don’t have to… just go back to bed."

You watched him, hurt flashing across your face before you masked it with understanding like you always did. But that only made it worse. Logan felt like a burden, an anchor holding you down when you could be with someone lighter, someone whole.

It was selfish, he realized bitterly, for him to have married you. To drag you into his darkness, to let you tether yourself to someone so broken. You could have had happiness with someone who didn’t carry the weight of a hundred lifetimes, someone who wouldn’t drag you into his nightmares.

The day that followed was unforgiving. The mansion was chaotic with the energy of kids excited for the upcoming weekend, their laughter and chatter echoing through the halls. Normally, Logan found a certain kind of peace in the routine, in the noise and laughter. He’d steal a moment to find you, just to see the way your eyes lit up when you spotted him across the room, the way you’d smile like he was the best part of your day.

But today, he couldn’t bring himself to look for you. Instead, he kept his distance, trying to hold onto the feeling of solitude he hadn’t felt in so long. He couldn’t shake the gnawing thought that he was ruining your life, that every day you stayed by his side, you were giving up a piece of yourself for someone who didn’t deserve it.

Still, avoiding you completely proved impossible. In the late afternoon, he wandered into the library to drop off a book one of the students had left in his class, and there you were, seated at one of the old wooden tables, a notebook open in front of you, scribbling something with that quiet intensity he loved so much.

As if sensing his presence, you looked up and caught his gaze, breaking into a warm smile. "There you are," you said, your voice light, teasing. "I feel like you’ve been avoiding me all day."

The words hung in the air, playful but carrying an undertone of uncertainty. When Logan didn’t respond, your smile faltered slightly, concern filling your eyes.

"Logan," you started, your tone softening, "what’s going on?"

Logan let out a long sigh, shoving his hands deep into his pockets, his gaze dropping to the floor. "Sweetheart," he said, his voice gruff, "don’t… don’t try to make me feel better, alright?"

You blinked, taken aback. "I’m not… I don’t even know what’s wrong. I’m just… trying to understand." Your voice wavered, the usual confidence slipping as you searched his face.

He looked down, feeling the weight of his own words pressing on him, but they spilled out anyway, rough and raw. "I don’t know why you stay with me. You’re too good for someone like me."

The hurt in your eyes was immediate and stark, cutting through him like a blade. Usually, you would have brushed off his self-deprecating comments with a witty remark, or maybe a kiss, but this time…the pain was visible.

"Wow, Logan." Your voice was quiet, almost disbelieving. "I guess if you say it enough, maybe I’ll start to believe it."

He felt his heart clench as he watched you, saw the way you pulled back as if shielding yourself from him. Before he could say anything, you’d gathered up your things and walked out, leaving him alone in the library, the silence heavier than any nightmare.

Later that evening, Logan sat in Xavier’s office, staring at the floor as the Professor studied him with quiet patience. Logan had come here for advice, though he hadn’t known how to ask for it. After a few minutes of silence, Xavier spoke.

"She loves you, Logan," Xavier said gently, his voice filled with the kind of understanding that only came with time. "And yet you push her away despite being married for years now. Why?"

Logan swallowed, struggling to put his feelings into words. "She… deserves better than me," he muttered. "I drag her into my mess. She’s always the one tryin’ to fix me, to hold me together. I don’t wanna keep holdin’ her back."

Xavier regarded him thoughtfully, folding his hands. "Perhaps," he said softly, "she doesn’t see it as a burden, Logan. Perhaps you’re the one who’s still carrying that weight." He paused, allowing the words to sink in. "But by constantly questioning her commitment, by doubting her love, you’re hurting her far more than any nightmare ever could."

Logan’s jaw tightened, shame flooding through him as Xavier’s words settled in. He’d spent so much time convinced he was protecting you by keeping you at arm’s length, he hadn’t realized he was driving a wedge between you. He was the one putting cracks in your relationship, making you question the very foundation of what you’d built together.

Determined to make it up to you, Logan planned a small, thoughtful evening, something that would remind you of the early days, back when things felt simple and uncomplicated. He knew he’d hurt you, and there was no grand gesture that could fix it. But maybe he could start by showing you what you meant to him.

He set up a cozy picnic under the stars in the mansion’s quiet garden, the same spot where he’d taken you for one of your dates. There were blankets laid out, soft lanterns casting a warm glow, and a small table with your favorite food—he’d even found the wine you’d both liked that night.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, you finally came outside, your expression wary but softened by curiosity. Logan’s heart thudded in his chest as he stood, waiting, feeling more vulnerable than he ever had on a battlefield.

"What’s all this?" you asked quietly, glancing around the setup with a mixture of surprise and hesitation.

Logan rubbed the back of his neck, feeling uncharacteristically nervous. "I… wanted to make it up to you. I know I’ve been a real jackass," he admitted, his voice gruff. "I’ve got this… damn habit of pushin’ people away. And I know I’ve hurt you by doin’ it. You didn’t deserve that."

Your expression softened, and you stepped closer, your eyes searching his face.

"There’s a… note," he mumbled, pointing to a folded piece of paper on the table. "I wrote it… y’know, in case I couldn’t say all of it right."

You picked up the note, unfolding it carefully. His handwriting was rough, scrawled across the page, and the words were raw, unpolished, but every line held the weight of his heart:

"I know I don’t say it enough, but you’re the best damn thing that ever happened to me. You’re my light, my peace, even when I don’t think I deserve it. I’d be lost without you, and it scares the hell outta me sometimes. I’m sorry for doubting what we have. I love you more than I know how to say, and I’m the luckiest man in the world to have you by my side."

You looked up at him, tears shimmering in your eyes, but there was a soft, unwavering smile tugging at your lips. "Logan… you don’t have to do all this to prove anything," you murmured, squeezing his hands. "I know how much you love me. I’ve always known."

Logan gave a half-shrug, but his expression softened as he took a tentative step closer, his thumb brushing gently over your knuckles. "Maybe," he muttered, his voice rough, almost vulnerable. "But I’m a damn stubborn fool, and I know I don’t say it enough. Hell, I’m lucky you haven’t given up on me yet."

You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him in close until your foreheads were nearly touching. "Logan," you whispered, your voice steady despite the emotion welling up in your chest. "I knew exactly what I was getting myself into the moment I kissed you that first time. You seem to forget… this is a two-sided relationship. I chose this, and I chose you—all of you. The good, the bad, and even the ugly."

A small, wry smile crossed his face as he held you tighter, his hand splaying against the small of your back. "Guess there’s plenty of that last one," he murmured, his tone filled with self-deprecation.

You shook your head, lifting a hand to cup his cheek, guiding his gaze back to yours. "I don’t want some perfect, easy life. This marriage hasn’t been easy—no one ever promised it would be." Your voice softened, and a flicker of pain crossed your face as you thought back to the late nights, the nightmares, the moments of doubt. "But I wouldn’t trade a single second of it."

Logan’s eyes softened, the weight of your words sinking in as he searched your face. There was a flicker of something vulnerable, almost boyish as if he still couldn’t quite believe that someone like you would stay through it all. "Even with all the times I’ve messed up? Pushed you away?"

"Especially then," you replied, your voice barely above a whisper. "I chose you, Logan, knowing every scar you carry. I chose you because you’re worth it. Because beneath all that gruff and growl, there’s a man with a heart bigger than he’ll ever admit."

Logan’s gaze softened, his usual guarded expression melting as he took in the honesty in your eyes. His fingers tightened around yours as if grounding himself in the warmth of your touch.

You swallowed, feeling your throat tighten as you searched for the right words. "Besides, you act like you haven’t been there for me—like I’m the only one giving in this marriage. But that’s not true. You’ve carried me, held me up when I couldn’t stand on my own." A tear slipped down your cheek, and you felt a tremble in your voice as you continued, more vulnerable than you’d ever allowed yourself to be. "I guess… I guess I need to tell you much you mean to me more, because if I ever lost you—"

Your voice broke, the unspoken thought hanging in the air between you. Logan’s hand moved to your face, his thumb gently wiping away the tear that had escaped. He looked at you with a raw intensity, like he was seeing you for the first time and realizing just how deeply his presence affected you.

"I don’t know what I’d do," you whispered, voice barely holding together. "Without you, it’d be like… losing the part of me that makes sense of the world. You’re my safe place, Logan. I don’t want a life that doesn’t have you in it."

A faint tremor ran through Logan, and for a moment he just stood there, absorbing your words. Then, in a rare, unguarded gesture, he pulled you against him, burying his face in your hair, his arms wrapping around you as if he could shield you from everything—himself included.

"You won’t lose me," he murmured, his voice rough, barely more than a whisper. "I’m here. And I’m not goin’ anywhere. Not ever."

You pulled back just enough to look up at him, your hands resting on his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart under your palms. "Promise me," you whispered, your voice filled with both a plea and a demand.

Logan’s hand came up to cradle the side of your face, his thumb brushing your cheek as he met your gaze, raw and steady. "I promise, darlin’," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "As long as I’m breathin’, I’m yours."

You nodded, a soft smile breaking through the tears as you let out a shaky breath. "Good," you whispered, a hint of your usual fire returning. "Because I’m not letting you go. You’re stuck with me, tough guy."

A smile finally broke through Logan’s serious expression, a low, rough laugh rumbling from his chest. "Well, I guess I got the better end of that deal," he murmured, his thumb tracing softly over your lips, his gaze warm and unguarded. "Lucky me."

You let out a laugh, sniffing as you swatted his hand away playfully. "No, I’m the lucky one, and don’t go thinking otherwise." You shook your head, the emotions bubbling up as you looked up at him. "You’ve seen the darkest parts of me, Logan. You know it wasn’t always easy for me either."

Logan’s smile faded slightly, his hand still cupping your cheek as he looked down at you, his brow furrowing. "Yeah… I guess sometimes I forget that," he admitted quietly, his voice carrying a hint of regret. "I… I let that damn nightmare get the best of me last night. Pulled me into my head, made me feel like I was poisonin’ your life somehow." He sighed, looking away for a moment. "I let it eat at me, let it convince me that I was only draggin’ you down."

He trailed off, his thumb idly brushing against your cheek, almost as if grounding himself in the warmth of your skin. "Guess I let that fear carry me away," he murmured, his voice barely more than a whisper. "And I hurt you because of it."

Your hand found his, squeezing gently as you shook your head. "You don’t have to apologize for feeling like that. I know what those fears can do. I’ve had them too, remember?"

He frowned, a hint of confusion flashing in his eyes. "You? I… I didn’t know you ever doubted us like that."

A soft smile played on your lips, tinged with a hint of sadness. "Oh, I’ve had my moments. There was a time, back when we were dating when I thought I wasn’t strong enough for all this." You looked down, your fingers tracing small patterns on his hand as you continued. "There were days I felt like I couldn’t handle the weight of what you carried… like maybe I wasn’t enough for you."

Logan’s hand tightened around yours, his gaze darkening as if the thought alone pained him. "I had no idea," he murmured, his voice rough with emotion. "Why didn’t you tell me?"

You gave him a soft, reassuring smile. "Because you already had so much on your shoulders. I didn’t want to add to it. But… there was one night that changed everything."

He tilted his head slightly, his brows furrowing in curiosity. "Which night?"

You took a deep breath, a nostalgic smile crossing your face as you remembered. "It was that night when I got that phone call about my dad being in the hospital. You remember? I’d barely told you anything about him, about my family, because… well, I thought it was easier not to talk about it."

Logan nodded, his gaze intense, recalling the way you had looked that night—pale, shaken, trying to hold yourself together. "Yeah," he said softly. "You were tryin’ to act like you were fine, but I could see you were fallin’ apart inside."

You laughed lightly, nodding. "Exactly. I was a mess, trying so hard not to let it show. But then… you showed up. I was packing a bag, trying to figure out what to do, and suddenly, you were just there. You didn’t ask questions, didn’t push me to talk… you just held me." Your voice softened a hint of awe in it. "And then you drove me to the hospital and stayed with me all night, even though I told you it was fine and that you didn’t have to."

Logan looked down, a faint blush touching his cheeks, as if embarrassed by his own gentleness. "Didn’t seem like you should be alone," he muttered, almost to himself. "Couldn’t leave you to deal with that by yourself."

"Exactly," you whispered, lifting his hand to press a soft kiss to his knuckles. "That night, you made me feel like… like I was worth being cared for. Like I could fall apart, and you’d be there to catch me. That’s when I knew I loved you, Logan. Not because you’re some ‘tough guy’ who protects everyone around him, but because of the way you love—with everything you’ve got, even when it scares you."

He swallowed, visibly moved, his thumb still tracing your cheek as he looked down at you, the weight of your words settling over him. "You’re tellin’ me that one night… that’s what made you fall for me?"

You nodded, a small smile tugging at the corners of your mouth. "It made me fall more for you and since then, every time you’ve shown up, every time you’ve let your guard down just enough to let me in… it only made me love you more."

Logan exhaled, his hand slipping down to rest over your heart as if feeling the steady beat under his palm reassured him of something he could never put into words. "I don’t deserve you," he whispered, his voice breaking slightly. "But… God, I’m gonna try like hell to be the man you see me as."

You leaned up, brushing your lips softly against his, pouring every bit of reassurance and love you had into that kiss. "You already are," you murmured against his lips. "I wish you could see yourself the way I see you. I wouldn’t trade you, or this life, for anything."

A soft laugh escaped him, full of relief and something tender. “Well,” he whispered, pulling you close, his forehead resting against yours. “I’m done lettin’ my own damn fears get in the way of us."

“Good,” you whispered. “Because marrying you was the best thing I ever did.” 

He leaned down, capturing your lips in a kiss. His hand moved to the small of your back, pulling you closer as if you might slip away. When you finally broke apart, he looked down at you with a gaze so soft, so full of unspoken devotion, it made your heart ache.

[jinwoosbabyboo]

Watch Your Mouth

Dealing with someone talking shit about your man and you stand up for them because you're not about to let someone talk crazy about your man. A/N: I like to imagine this as an office girly scene and you have that one hater ass bitter coworker [Requested by: onliafaze]

Zayne

You could tell you were coming down with a cold and it was going to be a bad one. Zayne just so happened to have the day off and you were struggling to make it through your last shift before your days off. So being the loving boyfriend that he is, he brought you homemade soup and some cold medicine. He even kissed you before leaving not caring that you might get him sick as well. Just another reason to spend the day in bed with you. You sat at your desk with the biggest smile on your face. Suddenly a bitch with a voice like nails on a chalk board decided to insert herself into your bubble.

Hater: If you took better care of yourself your man wouldn’t have to waste his time coming all the way here to bring you soup MC: Weren't you sick last month and your man told you he was going to leave until you were healthy again and proceeded to ignore you for a week? Hater: ..... MC: Just because your man doesn’t care about you doesn’t mean you need to project on me Hater: I’m not projecting! MC: ………Whatever helps you sleep at night miss girl

Once you get home to tell Zayne what happened when he left, him being the sensible person that he is, suggests that maybe your coworker was just in a bad mood.

MC: Don't defend her Zayne: Sorry I meant her man hates her MC: Thank you

Rafayel

Rafayel truly had eyes for you and you only. He cared very little for others feelings you were the one and only exception. He also hated to be touched so when your coworker saw you constantly having a hand on him, when he would come by the office, she thought she’d try her luck. Rafayel immediately looked at her like she smeared the most vile thing known to man on his arm.

Hater: Your man is rude as hell MC: To you. Hater: No he’s just rude MC: To you. Hater: Why just me MC: You’re weird … who grabs on another woman's man right in front of her? You’re weird Hater: You’re rude as hell too you guys are made for each other MC: Cry about it

Rafayel stared at you in admiration while you told him what went down after he left.

Rafayel: Have I ever told you how hot you are when you get serious? MC: Yes all the time

Xavier

“Damn it I left my tea in my car” You had gotten all the way up to your desk when you realized what you were forgetting. On top of that it was cold so you were dreading having to walk in it again. Maybe you could make a cup in the office kitchen, but they only have sugar and you prefer honey; you prefer your tea. “I’ll go grab it for you just stay here and warm up” Xavier said as he appeared next to you with that soft expression he always has when he looks at you. “Thank you Xav you’re so sweet” You handed him your keys and watched as he quickly made his way out of the office before turning and smiling to yourself.

Hater: What is he a dog? Does he do everything for you? MC: ….. You know if your man hates you just say that Hater: M-my man doesn’t hate me w-why would you say that? MC: Look at you stuttering and shit did I hit a nerve? Hater: Whatever MC: Have the day you deserve babes!

Xavier approached you right as your coworker barged past him almost knocking the tea from his hand. He looked back with confusion etched across his face before turning back to you.

Xavier: What happened? MC: She was just admiring the relationship we have Xavier: What really happened? MC: She wanted smoke so I gave her a barbecue

Sylus

Thanks to Sylus wanting to spoil you at all time your office was the most decorated with all new everything and was even professionally designed to be organized and efficient. People loved to come by and admire your office set up. Except for one person who just seems to turn her nose up at you. She pouts for hours on end when Sylus makes his appearance to bring you lunch, flowers or even a ‘just because’ gift when he wants to see you. You ignored this bitter coworker day in and day out because why would you need the kind of negativity in your life? One day though she finally decided to voice her unwanted opinion to you.

Hater: You only have all of that because your man buys you everything MC: Yea … he does … tell your man to work harder Hater: That is so insensitive what if I'm single? MC: I can see why….. Hater: What's that supposed to mean!? MC: You're insufferable I wouldn't date you either

Sylus always found your attitude cute and it was even better when it wasn't directed at him.

Sylus: You said she was insufferable? MC: Somebody had to do it Sylus: and you were the perfect one for the job huh? MC: I was defending you praise me Sylus: I've never been defended before thank you Princess

[cheyisagirlkisser]

Ellie’s fucking you with her strap in missionary, the silicone sliding in and out of your sopping-wet pussy at a merciless pace. She’s whispering filthy things in your ear when she is able to catch her breath. “Yeah, you like the way I fuck this pretty cunt? She just swallows me up..” Her words only make you more needy, more greedy for her touch. You love how it feels but you just need a little bit more. Your own trembling hand snakes down between your connected bodies to your clit, and you rub tight circles onto it with two fingers. Ellie notices, and she gives you a look that you know isn’t a good sign. She smacks your hand away and replaces it with her own. At first, you’re loving it..the feeling of her rough fingers on your swollen bud while she pounds into you, you love the view of her tits slightly moving with her thrusts. The feelings and her words, her soft murmurs of “Fuck, I love this pussy” and “Cum all over my dick, baby..” leave you seeing stars. Your orgasm washes over you like a deep wave, but then you realize your previous mistake. Once the pleasure wears off, even as the overstimulation makes you squeak in confusion, Ellie’s fingers on your clit don’t cease. she pulls out with that shit-eating grin and continues to abuse your poor fucked out cunt. Fuck, she pulls another 2 orgasms out of you before she finally stops. By then, you’re extra sweaty and tears are rolling down your cheeks. But then, she only pulls away to latch that filthy mouth of hers on your clit, giving the poor thing a harsh suck. You yelp and try to squirm away, but she practically manhandles you, pulling you back onto her mouth. Her tongue ruthlessly flicks against it, and you’re a sobbing mess. Ellie doesn’t care if it’s too much, you’re a big girl. You can handle her eating your cunt, right? Even if you’re already fucked out..maybe you shouldn’t have even attempted to touch yourself without her permission. Rip your pussy🫠

PS: Divider creds here and here

[wandaslovey]

𝓈𝓉𝑜𝓁𝑒𝓃 𝑔𝑒𝓉𝒶𝓌𝒶𝓎

➺ mom’s bsf!wanda x fem!reader

wc ~ 2.7k

a/n: this was the fic most voted for from my poll like two weeks ago :,) hope y’all enjoy!<3

a/n: i’m also currently writing a super dark/toxic wanda fic, so stay tuned for that loves 😙

*not proofread*

cw: established relationship, fluffy fluff, a (slightly) embarrassing conversation, shy/embarrassed reader but she still has a bit of a ‘tude

∴.·:*¨¨*:·. ☙.·:*¨ ¨*:·.♡ .·:*¨ ¨*:·. ❧.·:*¨ ¨*:·.∴

you hear the faint sound of birds chirping, some of the morning sunlight showing behind your closed eyelids, indicating you had slept in a bit. you hum sleepily, still feeling groggy from your “long night.”

it was a long night in the best way. tangled limbs, whispered words of affection and uninhibited love took place between you and wanda over the course of the evening and throughout the night. it was the first time the two of you had ever been in a setting where there was no need to look over your shoulder to see if someone would find the two of you out. there was no need to be rushed, quiet or secretive. it was simply just the two of you existing in your own little blissful bubble.

you rub the remaining sleep from your eyes, sitting up in bed just as you notice wanda entering the bedroom, two mugs of coffee in hand.

“good morning, sunshine,” she greets you with a warm smile—one you’ve only seen her give you specifically. she walks over to the bed and sits at the edge, handing you your mug. you sit up and take it from her, your two hands holding it carefully as to not spill on the white sheets.

“thank you, wands” you smile gratefully, eagerly tipping the mug towards your lips to take a sip. your coffee always tasted better when she made it and you had no idea why since she made it the same way you did.

“how’d you sleep, honey?” she scoots a little closer to you, affectionately running her hand down your arm. she rests it on your knee which you then rest your hand atop of hers, interlacing your fingers together. you were both so addicted to the others’ touch—wanting to constantly be connected in some way.

“really good. i don’t think i’ve slept so peacefully in a long time,” you reach over and set your mug down on the nightstand next to the bed.

you take note of the fact that there was just a simple lamp and a coaster on the nightstand. just like you, wanda was more of a minimalist and you could see evidence of that fact everywhere you looked in this cozy cabin of hers. it was quite spacious, decorated tastefully with little personal touches of her here and there.

as you marvel at the space of the bedroom for the first time (you hadn’t been paying much attention when you’d first arrived), your eyes fall back to wanda again. she was already looking at you, seeming to have been watching you glance around the room.

“i love this place. it’s so homey and warm,” you smile as you tell her, your eyes wandering around the room again.

“i love it here too. i’ve been renting it out to people for awhile now. i was worried at first that having strangers track in and out of here would come back to bite me, but it’s still in near perfect condition.” you nod your head thoughtfully as she speaks, a short bout of silence falling over the two of you before she speaks again.

“y/n?” the way she says your name has your attention immediately, her tone indicative of a change in the subject.

“yeah?” you look at her a little warily, though you could still sense the lighthearted energy in the air. you knew the topic wouldn’t be so serious yet you found that butterflies started fluttering in your tummy in anticipation.

“i want to talk about something that happened last night.” the expression on her face gave little away as just a hint of a smile touched the corner of her lips, her green eyes dancing with something indiscernible behind them.

you remain silent as she pauses, wanting her to continue without interruption.

“it was something you said. something you said quite a few times actually..” she continues to be vague, but you could see the growing roguish expression on her face. immediately you wrack your brain for what you might have said last night. there wasn’t much talking at all that you remember. after arriving early in the evening to the cabin, you were practically falling into bed as soon as you were both through the door. the two of you had been equally eager to love each other without the nosy presence of your mom, friends or neighbors. it certainly wasn’t the first time the two of you had sex, but it was the first time where it wasn’t so secretive.

your brow furrows as you think harder. did you say something when your mind was fogged up in a lust filled haze?

suddenly, the butterflies that had been in your stomach went from fluttering to swarming. your heart beat faster in your chest as it dawned on you what you might have said while you were in a fuzzy headspace.

wanda watches the realization bloom on your face, the color on your cheeks now a lovely pink shade. it didn’t go unnoticed by her that you stopped breathing for a moment.

you weren’t sure what to say—what to do. was she disgusted? disturbed? weirded out?

she breaks you out of your own thoughts, her hand tucking some hair behind your ear and her thumb stroking across your cheekbone. you only blush harder under her affection, the uneasy feeling in your stomach still not settled as she had yet to speak another word.

“you know what i’m talking about, don’t you baby?” she didn’t need to ask the question—your face was answer enough, but she couldn’t help herself. she loved getting you all flustered and you usually made it so easy. you begin to fidget with your hands, twisting one of your rings around your finger. you clear your throat, preparing to face the music.

“umm… did i.. did i call you… mommy?” you cringe lightly as you speak the last word—not because it disgusted you, but because you worried it disgusted her. you were avoiding her gaze like the plague, your eyes fixated on your hands that were in your lap.

wanda reaches out, gently grasping your chin with her thumb and forefinger to tilt your head up. her gaze made your cheeks burn impossibly hotter, but you found that there was no trace of disgust on her face. “you did,” she states simply, a touch of an amused smile on her lips.

“is that something you’re into? some sort of mommy kink?” she gently prods, wanting to fully understand the inner workings of your mind.

you wanted to tell wanda everything. the two of you had grown so close over the last year. you had been attracted to your mother’s best friend for years. you never dreamed she would return your affections until one day she finally boldly proclaimed how she felt about you. from then on, things hadn’t exactly been smooth sailing, but your forbidden relationship still blossomed. you confided in each other about everything. well—everything but this.

your eyes flick back and forth between her eyes, and you can see the sincerity of her curiosity. you knew she wouldn’t judge you, so you decided it was silly to keep it a secret any longer.

“yes. i mean, i’ve always had a thing for older women… hot older women.” you joke lightly, your eyes dancing with amusement before you continue. “it’s just, well, you know my mom. she’s not exactly maternal. she’s great in her own way, but i just crave being coddled and loved - two things she was never great at doing. while my mom instilled the necessity of being independent and strong, i never had a space to be vulnerable or depend on somebody. she never really gave me rules, so there was little i couldn’t do. because of that, now i crave structure and discipline where i never had it growing up. having a mommy kink can mean a lot of different things to different people, but the way i look at it… the way i look at you, i see a nurturing, confident, beautiful woman who does love and coddle me—quite a bit, i might add.” you laugh lightly at your half-hearted jab and then continue.

“so yes, to me, you perfectly encapsulate someone whom i’d wanna call mommy—to obey, love and cherish.”

as soon as you start talking, explaining what this all meant to you, you couldn’t stop. you yearned to have her understand and to grasp onto this concept that you saw her as the safest space in the whole world.

you watch her take everything in, her expression always thoughtful. a warm smile grew on her face, a light growing within her eyes. “oh, sweetheart, come here.” she reaches her arm across your body, pulling you into her. you straddle her, easily settling into the comforting space of her lap. she wraps her arms tightly around your smaller frame, resting her cheek against your head as you nuzzle your face into her neck.

“you’re so precious, you know that? my precious girl.” she hums into your ear before kissing your hair. she rocks the both of you gently from side to side as you embrace, her perfume with hints of pears, fig leaves and sap filling your nose.

“you know something, baby?” she loosens her hold on you, gently grasping your hips to pull you back so she can look into your pretty eyes. “i like it when you call me mommy,” her voice drops an octave, her eyes twinkling, and she smirks at your reaction. your cheeks flush and you smile a bit bashfully, your head tilting into your shoulder. “you do?” you ask, suddenly feeling a little shy again under her intense gaze.

“mhmm, i do honey love. mmmm, you’re just too damn cute for your own good.” her hands come up to cradle your face, as she leans closer to you. you think she means to kiss you, but instead she tilts your head up, her lips kissing along your jaw in search of a certain spot on your neck. wanda knew your body like the back of her hand. she knew what spots drove you crazy and which ones made you yearn for more.

“wanda.. quit that!” you whine softly, catching on to her drift. there were certain spots on your neck that if she kissed or nipped just right, it tickled more than anything else.

wanda hums against your skin, licking at the spot as you try half heartedly to push her away. her arms wrap around you again, holding you firmly in place. “no, i don’t think i will,” she purrs and then chuckles darkly next to your ear as she feels you struggling more earnestly. deciding to up the ante, one of her hands starts to dig into your side, your ticklish ribs falling victim to her game. you squeak and squirm against her, attempting to slide off her lap but she’s having none of it. in one swift movement, she all but swings you around until your back hits the mattress. she quickly climbs atop of you, her legs straddling your hips. “you can make this all stop now you know, if you say something for me..” her voice was taunting as she wiggles her fingers just above your body.

“what??” you demand, hoping to halt this attack before it really begins. you were really ticklish. your nerves were already alight with anticipation as you watch her hands ever so slowly slip under your sleep shirt. your belly clenches as her fingernails lightly scratch their way up your torso.

“give me a minute to think of something, hmm? you’re just so cute all pliant and eager to appease me right now,” she bites her lip, unsuccessfully masking her grin. she spiders her fingers down your sides and you arch your back, a soft squeal sounding in the back of your throat. you refused to give her the reaction she was looking for. her persistence in trying to get you to squirm and giggle under her only brought out your stubborn attitude. you press your lips together, trying to will the ticklishness out of your body. her eyes burn into yours as she senses your obstinance. her eyes crinkle as she smiles, excited at the mere aspect of trying to get you to crack a small laugh.

she traces one finger down your stomach before she gathers both of your wrists in her one hand, holding them above your head. given your unwillingness to let her see that she was getting to you, you allow her to entrap your hands without struggle. she hums as her finger traces down the slope of your nose and past your lips. you snap at her, your teeth clacking and she chuckles warmly at the action.

“c’mon, you know you wanna laugh for me… just the tiniest little snicker or a small tittle..” her voice was warm like honey, which would have been comforting if you were in a different situation. one of her hands tickles at your tummy, her other one digging into your ribs. unable to contain your reaction now, you giggle gleefully. the light sound was satisfying as it hit wanda’s ears. you looked so adorable, all squirmy and helpless under her.

“oh my, that looks like it really tickles.” she laughs with you, her body moving around with yours as you attempt to shake and buck her off.

your brain was becoming a scrambled, fuzzy mess the more your body struggled against her. your desperation grew with each ticking second. no matter how you thrashed or wriggled around, it didn’t help your predicament. wanda knew just where to get you, spurred on by your reactions.

“wand-mommy! please! stop! stop!” you yelp, your wrists rubbing together and twisting in her grasp as you try in vain to pull your arms down.

wanda gasps playfully, her fingers slowing down. “what was that? i couldn’t hear you..” you groan, the feeling of helplessness continuing to wash over you in waves. “please..please stop!” you whine, quieter more reluctant giggles falling in between your words.

“oh darling, you know i can’t understand you when you giggle so much. say that again?” her grin was sinfully amused. you wished you could smack the smug expression right off her perfect face. “mommy please-please stop!” you try again, figuring she wanted you to pull the mommy card once more.

she hums again, sounding pleased. she could see your face starting to turn red from all the laughter and so she decided to show you some mercy, her hands finally halting their ticklish actions. “okay, okay, i’m done malysh.” she murmurs, her hand that was imprisoning your wrists loosening. she leans down, placing sweet kisses along your face. you clutch at her shirt, your legs wrapping around her body, wanting to feel closer to her. she smiles to herself at your clinginess, her lips pausing as they place one final kiss against your jaw.

“i’m sorry dorogoya.. i knew you were ticklish but i didn’t know you were that ticklish,” she muses, tucking some hair behind your ear. your cheeks heat in delicate embarrassment and you take advantage of your freed hands now by smacking her arm.

“hey, be nice to your mommy. you know if you act up, i’ll just have to punish you..” you gasp softly, the prospect of her punishing you instantly sets a flame in your lower belly. she leans closer to you, pecking your lips. “hmm you like that idea, don’t you?” you feel her grin against your lips. you nod, your eager eyes set on hers. she takes mental note of your reaction, finding that she herself was excited at the idea of punishing you.

“something tells me you’ll have earned a punishment or two before our little weekend is over,” she purrs, imagining the various ways you may choose to act up in the next couple of days. “i have to admit, mommy’s a little excited to find out just how bratty you can be.”

you raise your eyebrows, a small smirk forming on your lips. “you’re probably gonna wish you didn’t just say that…”