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f1goat · 5 months ago

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his stripper + lando norris (one shot)

In which Lando his friends take him to a stripclub, where he meets you. He's quick to come back weekly, every Tuesday you're his. But when he comes another day and finds you on the lap of some other guy, something in him snaps.

fem!stripper reader x lando norris

trigger warnings: stripper reader, sexual content, smut, a bit of unwanted physical contact (nothing much!) + not proofread as usual

masterlist - playlist

the first time at the stripclub

He’s nervous. This is nothing for him. The whole setting is wrong and puts him off. His mood is getting worse instead of better, but he can’t tell his friends about that. They tried, they really did. After Lando told them about being a bit miserable since the break up with his ex, they tried everything to cheer him up. Nothing really worked. Clubbing all night whenever he could, didn’t do the trick. Flirting shamelessly with every girl he saw, also didn’t work. He believes that tonight is some last option. A ‘if this doesn’t work, nothing will’ kind of option.

But, this is a fucking stripclub. It won’t help him feel any better. To be honest, it only seems to make things worse.

Lando looks at every small detail in the club. The atmosphere makes him even more nervous. It surprises him that there are many young guys who seem to be around his age. He always thought there only would be older guys. He takes a sip of his drink. It seems to be some strong cocktail with whiskey. He doesn’t like it.

“You’re looking as bitter as that drink,” one of his friends tell him jokingly.

Lando soft sighs and nods, “Maybe you’re right,” he says.

“Just enjoy this mate,” another friend says.

Lando tries to think about words that can tell his friends that he won’t enjoy this, but he doesn’t want to sound ungrateful. Before he can think about the right words, he’s distracted by the music becoming louder. Almost ashamed he starts to look at the podium, where you enter the place and greet everyone with a timid smile.

You aren’t what Lando thought a stripper would be. It’s almost as there is an innocence hanging around you. He almost feels like he has to save you from this place. What’s a girl like you doing in a place like this? Lando already starts to feel infected with the thoughts about you. He’s already feeling you enter his mind and making a long term place for yourself.

That can’t be good.

He keeps looking at you. Even if he wanted to, he couldn’t tear his gaze away from you. Everything about you is beautiful. You aren't a model like his ex, but maybe that’s what he likes most about you right now. There’s some sort of natural beauty hanging around you. And in combination with the innocence look on your face, it makes you way too dangerous for him. He should look away from you, leave this place and never come back. But Lando already starts to feel addicted. Fuck, who are you?

“I told you he’d like her.” He hears one of his friends make a remark to another one. He wonders if his friends came here more often. Have saw you before. Maybe even touched you? Fuck, he almost feels himself getting mad at only the thought.

You’re a stripper. He needs to remind himself about that all the time. But when he sees the way you’re moving on the stage, his opinion changes again. You’re not simply stripping like earlier girls on that stage did. It’s almost like you’re performing some sort of art.

He really is losing his mind here.

Lando looks at all the movements you make. He watches how you slowly tease the crowd with your movements. When you unclasp your bra, Lando almost loses it. He doesn’t want you to show everyone even more of your body. A relieved sigh is leaving his mouth when he notices the nipple stickers on your boobs.

The short skirt you’re wearing is next. Slowly you turn yourself around to give the crowd a sneak peak. Lando wants nothing more then to feel your ass. When he sees what you’re hiding on the short skirt, he wants nothing more for you to sit in his lap. Eventually you lose the skirt as well. Lando feels in some trance while staring at you. Why can’t he function like a normal person anymore?

When the first girls danced on stage, he couldn’t care less. But with you? He can’t seem to look away. His friends notice it as well. It’s probably even worse then they already expected. Lando doesn’t pay attention to them anymore, until you leave the stage. He can barely withhold himself from throwing money on the stage as well. It seems rude to do so, even though it’s your job.

Would it be a sin to get you alone with him?

The next girl shows up and starts her routine, but Lando has lost his focus again. He’s focussing on his friends who are making fun of him for liking you this much. It annoys him how he doesn’t even know who you are, what your name is and how he can see you again.

“We have one more surprise for you,” his best friend, Max, tells him. Lando gives him a strange look. What is he talking about? Instead of getting an explanation, there’s showing up someone in front of him. It seems to be one of the security members from the club. “Suzuka is ready for you,” he tells Lando.

“Go with him,” his friends encourage Lando. He feels strange. Who’s Suzuka? Is that a nickname from one of the strippers? Of course his friends picked someone with a name who’s connected to formula one. He sighs, but he does follow the security member. What if it’s you? He needs to know for sure.

In a short amount of time he has followed the guy to a smaller room. There’s no one around yet. The guy tells Lando that Suzuka will be here any moment. It makes him nervous. When he looks around in the room, it’s clear that it’s used for the more private dances. Fuck. He doubts about leaving this room, this place and his friends, to go home. But the small chance of you being Suzuka stops him. So, he takes place on the small couch that’s standing in the room.

When the door opens, he’s surprised that it is actually you.

Apparently his friends know him ever better then he already thought. They did pick out the right girl.

From up close you look even more beautiful to him. Lando again feels like he’s entering some sort of trance. You walk closer towards him. It makes him nervous. What does he need to say to you? He doesn’t even know what’s going to happen next. Is he getting a private dance? Or are his friends just pranking him?

“Hey,” you softly greet Lando. It amazes him that you still seem shy and timid. He thought that was an act for on the stage. “Hi,” Lando greets you back with even more nerves.

When you show Lando another small smile, he feels like he’s going to lose it. He needs to feel your body against his. He needs it. Now. His dick has already hardened up and is pressing painfully against his jeans.

“I need to inform you about the rules first,” you tell him a bit less timid. It’s almost like a business transaction right now. “You can’t touch me unless I give permission first, which I normally don’t. When the time is up, it’s up. No begging for more. This is just a lap dance. Don’t ask for more, because this is all I do. If you want more, find another girl.”

“You only give lap dances?” Lando asks you.

“Yes,” you confirm.

“Thank god,” Lando sighs.

He doesn’t know where this reaction is coming from. He’s just glad that other guys can’t touch you as well. Before you can ask him about his reaction, there’s a slow song starting. Apparently it’s your sign to start dancing. In no time you’re closely pressed up against his body. Slowly grinding your ass against Lando his body. It takes a lot from him to stop himself from touching you.

Lando doesn’t know how to act. The moves you’re making are making him lose his mind. It’s insane. He wants to touch you, but he can’t. There’s nothing more he wants then to press his lip against any place of your body. To discover your body with his hands. To do whatever you allow him to. But he doesn’t make any movements. He lets you do your thing. He can’t however stop himself from questioning you.

“What’s your real name?” He asks you when he notices that the song is about to end.

You grind yourself on his clothed dick and even let out a soft moan. Something that surprises you as well. Normally you absolutely hate doing this part of your job, even saying no whenever you can to the private dances. But this guy, he’s doing things to you as well. And that without even doing things.

“I’ll tell mine in return,” Lando tries to convince you. He doesn’t know that you know who he is. You know a lot more about him then he suspects at this point.

“No need Lando,” you tell him. You see how his eyes widen from the surprise. What you don’t see is that Lando feels like he’s really losing everything right now. It sounds heavenly to hear you say his name. “But,” you continue with a soft voice, “if you promise to keep it a secret, you can know mine.”

“Promise,” Lando quickly says.

The music has stopped in the mean time. You know that you have to leave this room, but before you actually do so you move closer to Lando once more.

“It’s y/n,” you whisper in his ear, “and maybe if you come again, you can figure out some other things about me.”

It’s the first time ever that you ask someone to come again.

You really hope you’ll see Lando again.

the second time at the stripclub

It surprises you when the following Tuesday Lando is already back in the stripclub. You wonder if it’s for you. Or is it just a coincidence? It doesn’t take you long to notice him. He’s early and it seems like he’s alone this time. Before you can think about it in any more details, you’re already distracted by the others girls in the dressing room with you.

They have seen him as well. It’s not that weird for a celebrity to be seen in this stripclub. It’s Monaco after all. Charles Leclerc has been here a couple times as well and many non formula one related celebs as well. But still, it seems like your coworkers have found some interest in Lando as well. They keep talking about his good looks and how they would drop everything for him. How he can have his way with them, even discarding the rules of the club. “If he wants to fuck me, who am I to say no?” One girl even jokes.

It makes you annoyed in some weird way. Before you had a small bit of hope for Lando to pick you again tonight. But now you realize that last time his friends chose, this time he’ll probably try someone else. Maybe even one from your coworkers who doesn’t follow the rules.

While standing in front of the mirror you decide to change your outfit again. Now that you know that he’s here again, you have another outfit in mind. It’s a bit more orange then what you’re wearing now, some may even say that it’s more papaya.

Lando has already made sure that you’re his after your show. The small room from before has been booked again. Since he met you last week, he couldn’t stop thinking about you. He needed to see you again. So, here he is. This will probably be the last time, he just needs to prove to himself that you weren’t that special. He hasn’t been this close with another girl since his ex, that must have been the cause for his extreme reaction.

When you show up in a tiny papaya dress on the stage, Lando has lost all his earlier thoughts.

Fucking hell. He was so wrong. You’re more then special. You’re everything.

He watches your show. He can safely say that he didn’t even miss a millisecond. He saw everything. He couldn’t even tear his eyes of you if he wanted to.

After your show he’s quick to walk towards the same room as last week. This time he can find it himself. When he’s standing in front of the door, he suddenly starts to feel nervous. Isn’t it weird what he’s doing? What if you think he’s creepy?

Before he can back out, you’re already opening the door for him. You’re glad when you notice that it is him again.

“You’re back,” you softly state.

Lando can only nod.

“That’s great,” you tell him with a smile.

When he walks inside the room with you, he can’t stop focusing on the way your ass bounces every time you take a step. It’s making him even more aroused. When you take him towards the same sofa as last week, Lando lets you. He sits down and waits for the music to start. He waits for you to start dancing again.

You position yourself on his lap. The music can start any minute, but before you want to do something else. Carefully you take Lando his hands into your own. You place them on your own body. Lando is quick to show you a confused look.

“Don’t make it inappropriate,” you joke, but there’s a truth hiding into your words. Lando nods quickly. He doesn’t move his hands. The feeling of your soft skin underneath his hands is already enough for him. Softly he holds your waist, waiting for you to continue.

Then the music starts. Lando loses himself in your moves, but he makes sure that his hands stay on your waist. It surprises you. When you’re done a few minutes later, Lando has many questions for you but has no idea with which one he should start. Eventually he asks you the worst one.

“Why?”

He doesn’t need to explain himself, you know what he’s asking.

“Money,” you answer as if it’s the only possible answer. For you it is.

Lando grabs his wallet, doesn’t think about his next movements and gets all the cash he has out of it. He gives you all of it. You don’t know what to say or do. Thankfully you accept it.

“Take the rest of the week off please,” Lando softly asks you. Then the lights in the room are going on again. It’s your sign to leave. You do however nod at Lando his question.

“Next week, same time?” You ask Lando jokingly before leaving the room. This time it’s Lando who shows you a nod.

You’re boss is ready to kill you when you tell him you’ll only work on Tuesdays from now on. Lando his money is maybe not enough to make such a decision, but you’re sure about yourself. You’ll manage.

the fourth time at the stripclub

Every Tuesday he’s here again. Always at the beginning of the night. He’s the first one to book you for a lapdance. He’s also the only one you agree to. You guess that he pays your boss good money, because the guy doesn’t even complain anymore if you deny other guests.

Last weeks you have gotten to know Lando better. Conversations are still small and awkward, but you have the idea that you’re getting somewhere with Lando. Before you always went to the stripclub because ‘you had to’, now you’re looking forward it. Lando changed things for you. Even the dance you perform for everyone is almost nice now. You love the feeling of Lando watching you. It even makes you feel kinda aroused.

Sometimes you can’t stop staring at Lando when you’re dancing in front of the crowd. It’s insane how he makes you feel. Is it weird that it almost feels like you’re crushing on him? That must be weird.

“Babygirl,” Lando greets you happily when you walk into the room. You’re quick to greet him back and give him a small hug. Lando smiles at you. He can safely say that Tuesday has become the favorite day of his week. Sometimes he thinks about coming more often, but he barely can. His schedule is busy and there are a lot of races. It may be only Tuesday that he sees you and he doesn’t even speak to you for a long time, but he really likes it. Maybe he can even say that he likes you. Not that he’s surprised about that, it was pretty clear after the impact you made on him the first time.

Slowly you move your body over Lando. You let your ass grind on his cock. Lando feels it hardening underneath your touch. Things feel different today. It almost seems like you’re doing even more then the other times. You make sure that with every move, you make contact with his crotch. Shaking your ass as sensual as you can.

When you turn around and take place on Lando his lap, he lets out a moan. Normally he has to take care of himself after what you’re doing to him, but this time he already starts to feel close to an orgasm. You grind yourself on his lap. It makes him insane. When you grab Lando his head and softly move it to your neck, the hint is clear. Lando let himself explore your neck and shoulders. He presses soft kisses against it.

It seems like you want him to enjoy things even more. His hand, which was earlier sneaked around your waist, is now in your hand and on it’s way to a new location. Lando lets out his hardest moan so far when he feels your boob in his hand. Carefully he moves his hand underneath your bralette.

“Can I?” Lando asks you just to be sure.

“Yes please,” you’re quick to reply.

That is everything it takes for Lando to start exploring your breasts. You let him know that he can use his other hand was well. He’s quick to do so. Softly he kneads your boobs. It earns him a soft moan from you. Something that only motivates him to continue his movements. He gives one of your nipples a soft pinch, it causes you to let out another moan.

When the music ends, the two of you don’t even notice. Lando is focused on you. Your focused on Lando and his touch. It’s a loud knock on the door that brings the two back of you back to reality. You know it’s one of the security guards, who’s telling you that the time is up.

Fuck. You think it, Lando says it.

“Fuck,” Lando mutters.

“It’s more for extra time,” you softly tell Lando.

“Since when do you do extra time?” Lando asks you, referring back to his first meeting with you in which you told him that time’s up means time’s up.

“Do you want to masturbate or do you want me to help you out?” You ask Lando.

It’s almost unrealistic how hurried Lando gets to the door. He’s quick to open it, put some money in the worker his hands and slams it close again. Now he can only hope that he didn’t hear you wrong.

He’s rather quick to find out that he heard you correctly. You’re dropped to your knees and sitting in front of him. When Lando was talking with the security member, you appeared to pull off your bralette. Lando can’t stop looking at your boobs. Since when is he this easily affected by only boobs? Lando almost feels ashamed for himself. He feels like a teenage boy.

You help him to undo his belt in the mean time. Lando pulls down his pants. His boxer stays on - for now he guesses. You press a soft kiss on his member through his underwear. Then you take it in your hand. His boxer doesn’t stop you from stroking his boner. Lando is quick to let out a couple moans caused by your movements.

It’s the first time you’re doing something like this in the club. You know that other girls use this as a way to make even more money. Crazy enough, this isn’t about the money. You really want to make Lando feel good right now.

He might have felt like a teenager before, but when Lando feels himself getting so close that he’s about to cum in his underwear - he really thinks he’s acting like one.

“Fuck y/n,” Lando moans when his orgasm hits him.

You can only smile proudly when you feel the wetness coming through his boxers.

the seventh time at the stripclub

You’re always happy when it’s Tuesday and you’re waiting for Lando again. After the first time you helped him getting off, things have changed between you two. You might not have kissed yet or have sex, but his dick has been in your hand and mouth a couple times now. It’s even arousing for you as for him.

“Hey,” you greet Lando enthusiastically when you walk into the small room and see him sitting already. Lando shows you a small smile while greeting you back. His tone is less enthusiastic then normally. You wonder what’s going on. There’s barely time to figure that out. The music is already starting and you move yourself around Lando.

“You don’t have to,” Lando tells you. Confused you back out a bit and look at Lando. There’s something wrong, but you can’t figure it out. Lando does however pulls you closer towards himself and positions you on his lap. It’s nothing new that he touches you. Since the second time you danced for him, you allowed him to.

“What’s wrong?” You eventually ask Lando. He even seems sad how longer you look at him.

“I won’t be coming for a couple weeks,” Lando explains, “I guess three weeks?”

“Oh?” You’re quick to match Lando his disappointed voice. Why isn’t he coming the next couple weeks? You wonder if it’s something you did. What if he’s never coming back again?

Lando quickly notices you disappointed look. Is it bad that he kinda likes it? Not that he wants to disappoint you, but he’s glad that he isn’t the only one who doesn’t like this. Maybe he can finally state that there’s something more going on between the two of you.

“It’s the triple header princess,” Lando explains to you, “After that I’ll be all over you again.”

“Deal?” You jokingly ask.

“Deal.”

The music has come to end end in the mean time. You hear the last tones fade away. It means you have to leave this room, but you don’t want to. Lando doesn’t remove his hands from your body as well. You can’t look away from him. Then Lando does something unusual. He softly grabs you chin and gets your face closer to his own.

“Can I?” Lando asks you.

You can only nod. Then you notice Lando coming even closer. His eyes are pretty from this close. You notice all kind of stuff. If you wanted to, you could count the small freckles on his face. But Lando is quick to snatch away your attention. Softly he presses his lips onto yours.

It feels good. Almost too good. You know that you’ve never kissed with someone like this before. Lando seems to be careful with you, something else then your used to from exes. Lando is enjoying it too. He can’t seem to pull back anymore. If it’s up to him, he stays like this for the rest of the night. And maybe longer.

When you slowly pull back from Lando, he’s quick to send you a questioning look. “The time,” you softly whisper. Lando nods understandingly.

“I’ll see you when I’m back,” Lando tells you.

Before you can anything, Lando adds something else.

“I promise babygirl.”

“I already can’t wait for you to come back,” you confess.

That causes Lando to press another soft kiss against your lips.

the eight time at the stripclub

It’s Sunday night. Lando couldn’t stop himself. After his race he barely made time for the press and the debrief from his team. He could only focus on getting home. Or better said, getting back to you. Last three weeks have been killing him. Every time he had a moment free, he could only think about you. And not in the way your body feels on his own, or about your magical hands and mouth that make him cum as if he’s a teenage boy experiencing his first orgasm. No, he can’t stopt thinking about how he feels while he’s with you.

Now that he thinks back at it, his friends did find the solution for his bad mood when they took him to the stripclub. They might have thought that it was because the activity, but they brought him to you.

Lando is pretty sure about his feelings for you. He thought about telling you about them when he saw you the last time, but he didn’t dare to. Now however, he’s sure that he needs to tell you. He needs to get you away from that terrible strip club for the rest of your live, so you can be his.

When he walks into the stripclub he’s quick to try to book you for a lapdance later tonight. It annoys him when he hears you aren’t taking those tonight. Lando is quick to wonder if you’re already booked? Fuck. He barely thinks about things like that because it makes him so upset every time. He knows you’re a stripper. Other guys have seen your body barely clothed, maybe you even gave lap dances to other guys - maybe you’re doing that right now. Lando tries to shake off the terrible thoughts. He needs you to be his.

Only his.

In the mean time you’re making yourself ready for a night as bottle girl. It isn’t your normal job. Normally you don’t even work on this day. But, because you needed a favor from your boss for upcoming Tuesday you had to do this in return. You have decided that it’s one of the last times. The favor you needed was the small room for the same amount of money Lando pays normally, but then for the whole night. It’s the last time you plan to be here. You need to tell Lando about your feelings, then you need to quit and watch how things will go.

The only reason you kept the job for this long, is because of Lando.

When you walk outside the dressing room and start to waitress for your first table, you’re quick to feel annoyed. You boss coupled you at the worst table. It’s one of the tables that has the highest price, which causes the guests to think everything is about them.

Lando looks around and wonders if you’re even working tonight. He doesn’t know your schedule. He doesn’t even know your phone number. Why didn’t he ask for that before? He doesn’t take a seat, he keeps looking around in hope to find you.

It doesn’t take longer then ten minutes before one of the guests from your table starts to act inappropriate. “I believe you can make those other tables wait for a moment,” the guest tells you while gesturing you to take a seat next to him. You softly sigh but give him what he wants. In no time his arm has found a place on your shoulder. It makes you uncomfortable. You want to stand up and leave again, but the guy holds you on your place.

“Maybe you can give me a lapdance princess?” The guy asks you. The nickname annoys you. It feels wrong. You start to miss Lando even more. “I’ll pay you a lot for it,” he whispers as if it’s a secret. You try to deny him, but he has already pulled you until his own lap. You squirm while trying to get away from him, but the guy only likes that more.

Lando realizes that he has gotten in a more private area from the stripclub by now. He has never seen this part before. It seems more luxurious then the rest of the place. He guesses this is for the guys who spend a lot of money here. Not for someone like him, who’s only spending money because he fell for one of the girls. He walks around, but doesn’t suspect to find you here.

Then he sees you. It seems like you’re sitting on some other guys lap. Lando doesn’t even notice the look of discomfort on your face at first. He can only think about getting you away from there. This will sound crazy and way too possessive, but he needs to figure out a way to get you to quit from this awful job. He needs to find a way to make you his.

One of the guys on the table is the first one who notices Lando. “Hey Lando!” He yells enthusiastically, “Come join us.”

It’s that moment that you notice Lando as well. You try to get off the lap from the guy, but he still has a firm grip on you. He doesn’t let you go. Lando notices it. He even starts to notice the uncomfortable way you’re sitting and the annoyed look on your face. He can barely withhold himself from calling you one of his typical nicknames or your own name.

“Come here,” he instructs you as polite as he can manage, “You’re forgetting about my table. Everyone is thirsty.” He is lying and he can only hope that everyone will fall for it. The guy seems distracted and you use the moment to get out of his grip. Quickly you stand up and walk towards Lando. You’re so happy with him right now that you can kiss him.

Not that you don’t want or can’t do that any other moment.

Lando doesn’t think anymore. He feels your presence next to himself. It makes him glad. The jealousy that has builded up in his chest seems to get a bit smaller again. He does however manage to instruct you something else.

“Tell your boss that you’re quitting and then meet me at the entrance.”

You can only nod at Lando his instructions. He seems a bit mad, but you aren’t sure if he’s mad at you, those guys, your boss or someone else. His jaw is slacked and a fierce gaze is found in his eyes. He looks when you walk to your boss, he notices the way the man his face falls flat - probably because he won’t get Lando his money anymore and then he sees you turning around again. That’s his sign to get to the entrance.

When he sees you coming towards him a bit later, Lando is quick to grab your hand. “You’re coming home with me,” he tells you. You can only nod.

the first time at Lando’s place

“Fuck,” Lando curses, “The things you’re doing to me.” His lips are dragging on your neck. The elevator ride seems to be never ending. Lando his hands are all over you. “It’s unfair how fucking beautiful you are,” Lando continues, “Need to feel every part of you.”

You’re thankful when the elevator reaches the right floor. Lando doesn’t give you the chance to walk for yourself. He picks you up and walks with you to his own apartment. Within the first seconds that you’re inside, Lando is already walking towards his bedroom. He drops you softly on his bed and hoovers above you.

“Lan,” you softly moan when he softly sucks on the skin by your neck.

He moves and presses his lips on yours. The kiss isn’t soft. It’s hard, rough and shows you exactly how much he has missed you lately. His tongue is fighting with yours for dominance, something he wins in only seconds. Lando lets out a soft groan when he releases himself from you.

“You’re mine,” Lando grunts. He almost says sorry after saying that. An ashamed feeling starts to creep up on his chest. But when he hears a soft moan leaving your mouth, he starts to feel less nervous about his remark. “Yours,” you even tell him with a soft voice.

“Yeah?” Lando asks you. He needs to make sure that he heard you right. In the mean time he focusses on getting you out of your clothes. Not that you’re wearing many.

“Yes,” you confirm.

Lando pulls you on top of himself. “I want you to dance like normally,” he instructs you, “I want to feel your naked body on mine while you do so.” You’re fast to remove his clothes as well. All your clothes have piled up on the bedroom floor. Lando lets out a soft moan while he feels you grinding on his dick.

“Feels even better like this princess,” he moans.

“You know,” you softly say, “I was earning a favor from my boss tonight. Had planned a whole thing for you this Tuesday.”

“Oh?”

“Yes,” you admit, “We had the room for ourself for the whole night. After that I was planning to quit.”

“Was it a goodbye for me?” Lando asks you confused. You lower your body. Softly you grab Lando his boner. You align it with your entrance before lowering your body even more. When Lando his dick enters your cunt, you let out a hard moan. Lando moans as well, but he keeps waiting for your answer. Were you going to say bye to him? Forever?

“It was not,” you confess, “I hoped it was a hello for our new life together.”

Your words silence Lando for a bit. He has no idea what to say. You slow down with your movements. Lando keeps thinking. Does this mean what he thinks it does? You like him? You what to explore those feelings for him?

“I like you babygirl,” Lando confesses, “I really do.”

You increase your pace. Riding on Lando his dick while confessing how much you like him too. “You’re made for me,” Lando moans while he feels close to his orgasm, “Fucking made for only me.”

In only minutes the two of you focus on the way your orgasm hit. Lando groans. You let out a self yelp. Lando shows you a small smile, you return it.

“You do realize that you’re my girlfriend now, right?” Lando asks you jokingly.

“Duh,” you reply with the same jokingly tone.

Lando presses his body close against yours. In some weird way he can’t wait to tell everyone about you. He’s never leaving you again for three fucking weeks. It’s only the conversations with his friends who were here with him the first night will be a bit different. But he doesn’t care about things like that. He can’t wait to show you the world.

Lando presses a soft kiss against your cheek. “But, you can’t forget how to dance like this,” Lando tells you, “You really need to keep doing this to me.”

“Idiot,” you laugh.

“Maybe you need to practice again?”

Lando has your on top of himself in no time again.

a/n: a small smutty one shot for you guys :)) for now i'll focus on my mini serie 'the roommate' again, but you can always send requests xx

#lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando norris x y/n #lando norris fanfiction #lando norris imagine #ln4 #formula one #f1 #lando norris imagines #lando norris smut #f1 smut

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muniimyg · 6 days ago

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♡ 03: where art thou? why not upon-eth me?

series m.list // taglist

note: u can all thank my prof for pushing back my case study due date 😍 ,, tbh i give u cute moments in this pt and then i ruin ur life at the end <3 flood my asks and i'll update soon HAHAH ,, mwwaaaa

warnings: oc flirts with jk a lot ,, smut (sort of) ,, oc slaps jk ,, big fight lol

for obvious reasons, that car ride changed everything.

it’s like a switch flips in your mind, a new experiment, a new challenge. you’re determined to push him. test him. see how far you can go without him snapping.

so, the week begins and you take notes. like a scientist, you’re methodical.

careful.

but your methods are anything but innocent.

you're testing him with everything you can think of: words, touches, close proximity—anything to see how he reacts.

and fuck, does he react.

when monday rolls around, you start subtle.

you’re sending him texts, clingy and cute, with just the right amount of affection to make his insides churn. you’re expecting a response, something—anything. but when the texts go unanswered for hours, your smile falters for just a second.

his replies come in cold, sparse, detached.

nerd [12:13PM]: u’re trying too hard nerd [12:18PM]: stfu for the rest of the day, yea?

on tuesday night, you attempt to perfect the art of being close without overdoing it.

it’s a delicate balance—teasing the line between friendly and intimate, but you feel confident… partly because the circumstances are on your side. mentally, you thank jimin for inviting you over to join their movie night.

as you sit next to him on the couch, your body just a little too close, brushing against him ever so slightly. your shoulder presses against his, the fabric of your shirt grazing his skin.

it’s subtle, but it’s enough to make him feel the weight of your presence beside him. you watch him out of the corner of your eye, waiting for any sign, any reaction. his eyes stay glued to the screen, but you catch the subtle tension in his shoulders.

you can feel it in the way his muscles tighten, like he’s aware but is trying to pretend otherwise.

you don’t pull away.

instead, you lean in further, your body pressing against his just a little bit more. you can feel the heat radiating from him, and it makes your heart race. you let your head gently rest on his shoulder, letting the weight of it fall naturally.

for a moment, his body is still, like he’s frozen in place. his breathing stays steady, controlled, but you can tell he’s aware. his jaw tightens ever so slightly, and you notice the way his fingers twitch, like they’re itching to push you away, but he doesn’t. his hand, though relaxed, sits just inches from yours, and you can almost feel the friction between the two of you, an invisible force keeping you both in place.

"are you serious?" he glares at you.

you take note that his voice is flat but tinged with something else—like he’s trying to convince himself this is all just a joke.

you smile, pretending to play innocent.

“what?”

“___…” he warns. “… fuck. whatever.”

“yeah?” you tease. “whatever? jungkook, i’m just sitting here, enjoying the movie," you say, tone light, as if there’s nothing unusual about the way your body is pressed so close to his.

he shifts uncomfortably, but you can tell it’s not a total rejection.

his arm, once resting by his side, is now slightly tense, fingers flexing just a bit.

“you’re really pushing it today," he adds, his voice gruff, but there’s no real bite behind it—just a hint of reluctant amusement. ��the guys will notice.”

you don’t move.

you just stay there, head still resting against his shoulder, feeling the way his body stays taut beneath you.

“let them.”

his jaw tightens again, but he doesn’t push you away.

instead, his arm stiffens where it rests against the back of the couch, like he’s holding himself back.

“you comfortable?”

“mhm,” you answer half-heartedly.

“with me?" he says, raising an eyebrow as he looks at you sideways. "keep lying to yourself. you should quit this shit soon.”

you smile knowingly.

his words are harsher than he means them to be, but his body says otherwise. he’s not pulling away, not really. his chest rises and falls with a quiet exhale, and you can feel the warmth of his body seeping into yours.

“if it’s so shit, then you move." you murmur, pressing just a little closer.

he shakes his head, his hand twitching again like he’s about to do something, but he doesn’t.

instead, he leans his head back against the couch and tries to focus on the movie. you can tell he’s trying to hide the way his breath catches whenever you get too close, but you notice it all the same.

the silence settles, but it's different now.

you’re closer, and you can feel the way the tension thickens. he doesn’t push you away, and he doesn’t pull closer, but his body is no longer stiff.

there’s a slight shift—a crack in the armor, just enough for you to know you’re making progress.

when wednesday arrives, the tension between you and jungkook shifts. you can feel it in the air—a subtle change, like a shift in the current. you’ve pushed him just enough that now, you know he’s starting to feel something.

maybe it’s curiosity, maybe irritation, but whatever it is, it’s there.

and that’s when you go for it.

you’ve intruded his home for the 2nd time this week (thank you yoongi for the emergency key). you’re standing behind him as he fiddles with something at the counter. you glance at him, making sure the space between you is just close enough that you can brush up against him without making it too obvious.

you take your time as you lean across the counter to grab a mug.

the movement is slow and deliberate. you make sure your boobs brush against his arm as you do. he’s taller than you so no matter what; it’s inevitable.

he’ll see what you intend for him to see.

it’s casual like you’re just going about your business… but you watch him carefully, studying his reaction. his body stiffens for the briefest second. his eyes flicker, narrowing, before he quickly schools his features again, turning away slightly.

but you see it—you feel the way his jaw tightens, the way his shoulders shift.

it’s all there, even though he tries to play it cool.

you don’t move away.

instead, you linger just a little longer, standing closer than you need to, your body just a bit too close to his. you watch as his eyes flicker, the smallest hint of frustration in his gaze, before it softens into something you can’t quite place.

maybe it’s confusion. maybe it’s something more.

“you look handsome today,” you say, the words slipping out with that playful, almost too-casual tone. though your voice is light, there’s a little challenge in it. you know how it sounds, and you know it’s enough to get under his skin.

for a moment, there’s a beat of silence.

he doesn’t flinch.

doesn’t even look at you directly.

… but you can feel the weight of his gaze on you, and when you glance at him, you see his lips pressed together tightly. his face is impassive, but you know better. he’s holding back, trying to keep it together.

“cut it out,” he utters under his breath.

it’s not the sharp command you expect, though. it’s more like a warning. like, he’s not sure what to do with the way you’re pushing him. his gaze flickers down to your lips for a fraction of a second before he quickly looks away.

you grin, knowing you’ve struck a nerve.

then, you pull back just slightly, but you don’t move too far. you keep your body close, letting the space between you linger with tension. slowly, your eyes flicker to his, catching the way his gaze darts between your eyes and lips, and the flicker of hesitation in his expression.

you know it’s working.

the coldness is a mask, a shield, but it’s starting to crack. the way his body tightens ever so slightly, the way his breath hitches for a fraction of a second, it’s all the proof you need. he’s trying to pretend he’s not affected, but you can see through it.

innocently, you tilt your head, studying him.

"what’s wrong, jungkook?" you ask, your tone dripping with false sweetness. "did i make you uncomfortable? or just horny?”

he looks at you for a long moment, his eyes narrowing again, but you see the shift in him.

he’s not as cold as he wants to be.

there’s something softer in the way he looks at you now, the way his shoulders relax just a little. but the silence stretches between you, and you can feel the unspoken words beginning to weigh in.

jungkook stays quiet but the tension is undeniable, and you know—you know—he’s not as unaffected as he wants to be.

on thursday, you decide to be a menace.

the timing has to be perfect, so you wait outside jungkook’s lecture hall, pretending to be on your phone.

when the doors open, students file out in waves, and there he is—black hoodie, backpack slung over one shoulder, looking as effortlessly cool as ever. he’s walking with a few of his classmates, casually chatting. you wait until he’s just a few feet away before stepping into his path.

the bump is perfectly orchestrated.

your shoulder brushes his, and your notebook, pens, and phone all tumble to the ground with an exaggerated clatter.

“oh no…” you sigh dramatically, crouching down immediately to gather your scattered belongings. jungkook stops, his classmates following suit, their conversation halting as they glance at you and then down at your outfit—a fitted crop top and a tiny skirt that rides up a little too much when you kneel.

you hear a low whistle from one of the guys behind jungkook.

“damn,” someone murmurs, and that’s all it takes for him to snap.

his jaw tightens as he bends down next to you, shoving your phone and notebook into a messy pile before grabbing your forearm, and making you stand.

“seriously?” he mutters, glancing behind him at his classmates, who are still ogling. “you couldn’t wait to drop all this somewhere without an audience?”

you blink innocently, brushing off your skirt as you stand.

“it was an accident,” you pout at him. “but thanks for helping.”

his glare softens, but only slightly. he bends down again, this time crouching low and deliberately blocking the view of his classmates as he picks up your things.

“wanna introduce me to your nerd friends—“

when he straightens up, he thrusts the pile into your hands, but before you can even say anything, he asks, “where are you going?”

you hesitate, taken aback by the question. “uh, the other side of campus...”

jungkook doesn’t miss a beat.

“i’ll walk you.”

“really?” you say, surprised, but already grinning. he looks like he regrets offering the second the words leave his mouth, but he doesn’t take it back. “you don’t have to. did you have a meeting or something with your marine conservation club?”

he tilts his head at you.

“what? i’m not mr. save the dolphins today? your tiny brain actually remembers my club name?”

you shrug.

“i’m not that dumb.”

“so you say,” he grumbles. “but yeah. i do have a meeting. i’ll just attend it late.”

gasping, you let out a last-minute squeal. “mr. perfect attendance is tarnishing his rep for me?”

“it’s fine,” he says flatly, glancing back at his friends and muttering something about catching up with them later. before you can tease any further, he’s taking your notebook and phone from your hands, tucking them under his arm as if it’s his duty now.

as the two of you walk, you chatter away, filling the silence.

normally, he’d roll his eyes or tell you to be quiet, but today, he listens.

he nods occasionally, even hums in acknowledgment, though his eyes are straight ahead, his expression carefully neutral. you can’t help but notice, though, the way his hand finds its way to your waist—lightly at first, almost hesitant, but then it lingers, his fingers splayed across your side as though keeping you close.

and then, as if his subconscious takes over, his hand slips lower, brushing against the curve of your ass. your steps falter for a moment, and you turn to look at him, a teasing smile tugging at your lips.

“jungkook?” you say, arching a brow. “y-your hand…”

he blinks, glances down, and quickly pulls his hand back, shoving it into the pocket of his hoodie as it burns him.

“shut up,” he hushes you, his ears turning red. "you wanna act like an ass? at least give me some."

you laugh, loud and unapologetic, and he glares at you, his lips pressed into a thin line.

but you notice the way his shoulders are less tense now, the faint hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. he doesn’t say anything as he walks you the rest of the way, carrying your things like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

on friday, you leave him alone.

no texts, no calls, and no showing up.

by 2pm; jeon jungkook realizes he misses you.

so, jungkook caves.

nerd [3:02PM]: wya? nerd [3:04PM]: come over :/ yn [3:08PM]: hiii yn [3:08PM]: what for ? nerd [3:09PM]: sent image attachment nerd [3:09PM]: figure it out ?

you don’t see jungkook until saturday night.

… which, isn’t too bad considering it would’ve just been like… a day and half since he last saw you—but it was bad.

jungkook ran through all the possibilities in his head.

could he be sick?

could he be undergoing some sort of unconscious stress that’s leading him to feel this way about you?

or… was it finally time for him to accept the truth?

when the doorbell rings, jungkook wants to answer it.

but he stops himself.

he isn’t easy.

he doesn’t want to be.

instead, he lets one of the guys answer it.

as you walk into the room, you’re greeted with the view of the guys are lounging around, a few beers and snacks spread across the coffee table. jungkook is in his usual spot, slouched in the corner of the couch, his hood up, legs stretched out like he owns the place.

he looks up when you enter, his dark eyes flicking to yours for just a second before darting away, as if the sight of you doesn’t make his heart trip over itself. you catch the subtle change in his posture—he straightens ever so slightly, his legs pulling in just a bit, his shoulders losing their slump.

“hi,” you call out, your voice light and warm as you shrug off your coat.

he nods at you, keeping his face neutral.

“hey,” he replies, the word coming out gruff, almost dismissive, but you don’t miss the way his gaze lingers as you move to take a seat.

you plop down on the couch next to him, close enough that your thigh brushes his. he stiffens at the contact, his hand twitching where it rests on his knee, but he doesn’t shift away.

“mad at me?” you tease, tilting your head to look at him, your lips quirking into a grin.

he looks at you funny.

“why would i be?”

you shrug.

“you aren’t greeting me like the way i want you to.”

he leans forward. “how do you want me to greet you?”

you pause, pretending to take a moment to think. then, you take his hand and gently place it on your upper inner thigh. his eyes widen and you stroke his hand gently.

“wanna—”

he scoffs, his expression carefully guarded. jungkook catches your bluff.

“god, you’re annoying.”

yet, the corner of his mouth betrays him, twitching upward just a little.

you giggle and then push his hand off.

the banter is effortless, the tension between you subtle but electric.

throughout the evening, you’re all warmth and light, leaning into him when you laugh, your hand brushing his arm or shoulder every chance you get. at first, jungkook attempts to resist.

his replies are short and his eyes anywhere but on you… but as the hours slip by, you feel him softening, his walls starting to crack just enough for you to sneak through.

then comes the game of mafia.

the group gathers around the coffee table, cards dealt, and jungkook ends up as the supposed villain. the accusations start flying almost immediately.

“you’re way too quiet, man,” taehyung declares, pointing at jungkook with a dramatic flourish. “you’ve got ‘mafia’ written all over you.”

jin chimes in, grinning. “yeah, it’s always the quiet ones. plus, look at him—he’s sweating.”

“i’m not sweating,” jungkook snaps, sitting up straighter, his jaw tightening. “i’m wearing a fucking hoodie and you guys turned up the heat. you're all so fucking bad at this game, you've all been sabotaging me physically!”

the others laugh, piling on more ridiculous accusations. even you can’t help but join in, a mischievous grin tugging at your lips.

“sorry, jungkook,” you say, shrugging with mock innocence. “you do look kind of guilty.”

his eyes snap to yours, and for a moment, something raw flickers there—hurt, maybe, or frustration. his lips part like he’s about to say something, but instead, he pushes back his chair and stands abruptly.

“what the fuck do you know, ___?”

old habits die hard.

“chill,” yoongi warns. “it’s just a game.”

“whatever,” jungkook says, his voice clipped. “this game’s stupid anyway.”

without another word, he turns and storms off, leaving the room in stunned silence. the sound of his bedroom door slamming echoes.

the group exchanges awkward glances before taehyung leans toward you with a teasing smirk.

“our boyfriend is in a mood… what should we do?”

jin chuckles. “___, you should probably go check on him before he sulks himself into oblivion.”

rolling your eyes, you push yourself up from the couch.

“he’s so dramatic,” you chime, but there’s a softness to your voice as you head up the stairs and down the hall towards his room.

a part of you hesitates… partly because of the event that occurred the last time you were here. but, you shrug it off. as you stand before his door, you raise your fist to knock but abruptly, he swings his door open.

“what do you want?”

“how’d you know—”

“you’ve got heavy ass fucking feet.”

you hiss at him. “yah, sore loser energy does not look good on you.”

opening the door wider, you step inside. he huffs and sits on the edge of his bed. with his hood still up, his arms crossed tightly over his chest, he glares at you with a mix of irritation and something else—something softer.

“did they send you up here to check up on me? what did they bribe you with this time?”

“nothing actually,” you answer him truthfully. “i’ve got my own motivations.”

jungkook can’t help but crack half a smile.

“like what?”

you lean against the doorframe, crossing your arms with a small, knowing smile. “wouldn’t you like to know?”

before he lets himself enjoy this moment, his jaw tightens, and he looks away. his gaze fixes on the floor.

“why’d you turn on me?” he huffs, his voice quieter now, almost vulnerable.

you push off the doorframe, stepping closer.

“it’s just a game, jungkook,” you say gently, your voice deliberately soft. “you’re not actually mad, are you?”

his shoulders tense, a flicker of something crossing his face—annoyance, maybe, but there’s something deeper underneath. his hands clench into fists on his thighs, the muscles in his forearms flexing as though he’s trying to ground himself.

“it’s not the game,” he finally says, his voice barely above a whisper, rough and raw like it was dragged out of him against his will.

you blink, caught off guard by the weight of his tone. “then what is it?”

his jaw tightens, and for a moment, he doesn’t answer. his fingers twitch at his sides, and then he’s dragging a hand through his hair, pushing back his hood. his hair falls messily over his forehead, but he doesn’t fix it. when his eyes finally meet yours, it’s like being hit with a tidal wave—anger, frustration, and something else that makes your breath catch.

“you.”

your heart stutters in your chest, but you keep your composure, tilting your head slightly. “me?”

he exhales sharply, shaking his head like he’s trying to find the right words.

“you play too much.”

his voice is rough but lacking its usual sharpness.

“you get in my head… and then you just—” he cuts himself off, the frustration rolling off him in waves. his leg bounces slightly, and his hands grip his thighs again, knuckles pale from the tension.

“you don’t even care,” he says finally, his voice quieter now, almost like he doesn’t want to admit it. “what the fuck were you doing to me all week? experimenting or some shit? fuck, isn’t your major psychology or something? you’re basically being trained to be a psycho.”

the jab stings, but you ignore it. instead, your chest tightens at his words, the vulnerability he’s trying so hard to bury beneath his irritation. you take a step closer, your knees almost brushing his.

“i do care,” you say softly, reaching out, your fingers brushing against his knuckles.

his gaze drops to where your fingers touch his, and for a moment, he’s completely still, like he doesn’t know what to do. then, slowly, his hand turns over, palm-up, brushing against yours with a hesitance that makes your chest ache.

“then can you stop messing with me?”

there’s something about his tone—about the way he says this. his words are one thing, but the ache of his deliverance is completely something else.

“i wasn’t messing with you,” you whisper, your gaze locked on his.

his lips part slightly, and his breathing is uneven as his eyes search your face, like he’s looking for something—an answer, a hint, anything.

“then what are you doing?”

you lean in, closing the distance just enough that you can feel the heat radiating off him. your smile is soft, almost teasing, but there’s a weight behind it.

“making you want me.”

jungkook is good.

you have no idea how or why, but your underwear and skirt are on the other side of his bedroom floor.

your legs are spread wide for him, as he licks his fingers and begins to gently drag it inside your folds. he separates them before lowering himself in. he looks at you, not breaking any eye contact as he flicks his tongue against your clit.

you clench your fist.

after a few licks and sucks, he lifts his head away. he brings his fingers to your mouth, cueing you to suck on them.

you do.

as he places his thick fingers inside, you part your mouth and suck on them. bobbing your head and twisting your tongue around his digits as you suck—jungkook winces at the way you do so.

“fuck,” he utters.

as he takes his fingers out, he begins to massage your folds. his pressure is firm yet pleasurable. his fingers trace around your entrance and play with your clit. you feel your toes curling as he breathes near your pussy.

it pulsates.

he can’t help it. the view is just too fucking perfect. jungkook massages your folds, spreading them a part before he spits on it. he takes his thumb and rubs in his saliva. massaging it in, slowly and surely—mixing it with your wetness.

“good kitty,” jungkook praises. “your pretty pussy is swelling up, ___. what’s going on? excited? horny? happy? you’re so wet, baby. so fucking—do you hear it?”

jungkook shoves his fingers inside you, curling and pumping them in and out. you gasp at the sharpness but feel completely immersed in his act.

.. and yes.

you do hear it.

you hear how wet your fucking pussy is.

“o-oh my god! j-jungkook—”

“yeah, baby?”

your stomach twists.

“d-don’t—stop. stop calling me—”

“sorry,” he apologizes quickly, shifting his body to tower over you. he caresses your face, his thumb lingering on your bottom lip. then, he kisses your cheek and trails his kisses down to your neck. you moan at his softness.

he’s so close to you. it’s only now that you realize how addictive he is.. from the way he smells to the way his touches make you feel…

he’s perfect.

in this moment, he is everything to you.

“sorry,” he repeats against your skin. “i’m sorry, kitty.”

you gulp.

“do you forgive me?” he pouts, resting his forehead against yours. “hmm? forgive me, please.”

“i forgive you,” you breathe. “c-can you—”

just as you reach for him, he shakes his head.

“can’t kiss you,” jungkook sighs. “won’t know how to get rid of you after.”

you smile.

“you wanna get rid of me after this?”

jungkook stays quiet.

you shift.

“no.”

just as jungkook leans in, your lips inches a part—

the door suddenly creaks open.

a girl—someone you didn’t recognize—steps halfway in, her hand still on the doorknob, her brows lifting in surprise when she sees the two of you.

her eyes darts between your flushed face and jungkook.

“oh, shit! uh—sorry,” she says quickly, taking a step back but still lingering awkwardly in the doorway. “i didn’t know you had a tutoring session before mine... i’ll, um, come back later, then? sorry to interrupt.”

before you can even process her words, she’s gone, the door clicking shut behind her. the sound left a hollow sort of silence in its wake like the air had been sucked out of the room.

you blink at the now-closed door, the words tutoring session before mine looping in your head like a broken record. your chest tightens, heat crawls up your neck as you turn back to jungkook.

his expression is already shifting, panic bleeding into his features.

you shift your body entirely, pushing him off you.

“wait,” he starts, “shit, ___. it’s not like that—”

“okay,” you say flatly.

you get up from his bed and grab your underwear and skirt. yanking them on, your movements frustrate jungkook.

he doesn’t know what to do.

in any and every angle—he’s in the wrong.

“i’m sorry, okay?” he tries again, stepping closer. his voice was softer now, almost pleading. “it wasn’t—i didn’t know she’d just barge in like that. i thought the door was locked—”

you shove past him, your shoulder brushing his as you make your way toward the door. you could feel the pressure building behind your eyes, a sick mix of anger and humiliation clawing at your throat.

“wait—” his hand shot out, grabbing your wrist, but you ripped it free, spinning around to glare at him.

“don’t.”

“___, please—”

“it’s not about whether or not the door was locked—” you choke, “it’s… fuck. tutoring session, really? is that what i am right now? is that what she is—”

“no,” jungkook answers sternly. “holy fuck, please. let’s talk about this—”his jaw tightened, and for a moment, he looked like he was about to let you go, to just let you leave. but then he took a step forward, his voice sharp and cutting—

“___, what did you want from me?”

you freeze, your hand still on the doorknob, your back to him. the words hit you like a slap, knocking the wind out of you.

jungkook takes a chance.

he steps closer to you.

“... because, honestly, i don’t think you even know.”

you stay quiet.

jungkook clears his throat.

“well, fuck. if you don’t know, then it’s not my fault,” he says, his tone hard now, defensive. “you can't want things from me and then not know how to handle shit, ___. you don’t get to make me another one of your fucking situationships. you wanted me to want you and this—holy shit. this isn't my fault. it’s yours—”

suddenly, your palm connects with his cheek before you even realize it. the sound of the slap reverberates in the room. his head jerked to the side, and for a moment, he just stands there, stunned.

your hand stung, your chest heaving as you stared at him, your vision blurring at the edges.

“i hate you.”

“___, i’m sorry—”

but it’s too late.

you don’t even bother looking back as you storm out of jungkook’s room, your chest heaving with a mix of anger and humiliation. the tears are already burning at the corners of your eyes, but you blink them back, determined not to let them fall. your feet carry you down the hall, towards the stairs, your vision blurry with rage.

“wait—” jungkook’s voice echoes behind you, followed by the thud of his footsteps as he chases after you. he hustles, dressing himself as he goes after you.

“fuck off!” you snap, your voice trembling but firm.

he doesn’t listen.

of course, he doesn’t.

“holy shit—please! ___, stop. just fucking hear me out—” he pleads, his tone exasperated, like he doesn’t know what else to say.

“stop?” you spin around halfway down the stairs, glaring up at him. “stop what, jungkook? stop assuming? stop feeling humiliated? stop—”

your voice cracks, and you hate how raw it sounds.

“whatever.”

jungkook freezes on the step above you, his lips parted as if he’s going to respond, but nothing comes out.

you don’t wait for him to gather his words.

you turn back and keep walking, practically jogging down the last few steps and into the living room where everyone else is. their laughter dies down the second they see you—flustered, teary-eyed, and furious—followed immediately by jungkook chasing after you.

“uh, what’s happening?” namjoon asks, his eyebrows raised as he glances between you and jungkook.

“are you two fighting?” jin’s tone is a mix of concern and curiosity, his head tilting as he watches the scene unfold.

"fuck," jungkook groans. "no shit, hyung."

“guys, let’s all chill,” taehyung interjects, raising his hands like a referee. “we’re all friends here—”

“he’s no friend.” you cut him off, your voice sharp and laced with emotion. you’re trembling now, fighting the tears that threaten to spill over.

the room goes silent.

even taehyung, who was halfway through a casual shrug, stops mid-gesture. everyone’s eyes dart to jungkook, whose expression shifts from startled to pained in a split second.

“what am i to you, then?” jungkook asks, his voice low but audible enough in the tense quiet. he takes a step toward you, his hand reaching out before falling limply to his side.

you don’t answer.

you just shake your head, the tears finally breaking free as you turn on your heel and head for the door. the air feels suffocating, and you need to get out of there before your emotions betray you any further.

“wait—” jungkook’s voice cracks, and for a moment, it sounds like he’s desperate. he jogs after you again, his hand catching your wrist just as you’re about to reach the front door.

“why the fuck are you so pissed about this?” jungkook cries. “holy shit, you’re infuriating. you know that?”

“are you done?” you ask him coldly.

a beat.

“do you want me to be?”

#bts fic #jk angst #jk fluff #jungkook series #jungkook fanfic #jungkook smut

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angel-sweets666 · 5 months ago

Text

Puppy love

middle school kirishima x middle school popular! reader

Kirishima, a social outcast who barely anyone knows has a crush on a popular girl. He has barely any chance, right?

warning: a bit of angst mostly fluff also your supposed to be shorter then him in this

a/n I THOUGHT THIS WOULD BE ADORABLE! I LOVE LOVE LOVE KIRISHIMA

Kirishima always admired you, always. Since he started middle school he would watch you from afar and just think about how pretty you were, how adorable you were. But as the months ticked on, you became popular and soon enough you were out of his reach.

kirishimas friends always laughed at him for liking you since you would never date him! Or… so they thought.

You whined and tried to drown out Mina's relentless teasing. "Really? Kirishima? The one with the hardening quirk? Awww, that's so cute!" she exclaimed, hopping around with excitement. Her voice echoed through the hallway, drawing unwanted attention. In a panic, you shot up from your seat and quickly covered her mouth, your eyes darting around to see if Kirishima was nearby. "Shut up!!!" you hissed, your face burning with embarrassment. You could feel Mina's laughter against your hand as she continued to giggle.

You blushed and covered your face, hiding the redness of your cheeks. Mina giggled again “hey! It’s no big deal! He’s tall! And he’s cute!” You pushed her chest “back up!” Your possessiveness over him came out. Mina laughed “your down bad!” She grabbed your shoulders and shook you with with excitement.

You and Mina walked down the halls, you could sense someone staring at you. You turned to see who it was, only to make awkward eye contact with eijiro kirishima! You both blushed and looked away, you could hear the deep laughter of kirishimas friends which made the embarrassment soo much worse. Mina smiled brightly and wrapped her arm around you “one day! He’ll ask you out! I know it!”

if only he’d ask you out…..

Mina stomped over, a grumpy look on her pink face. "Kirishima!" she yelled, trying to get the boy's attention. Kirishima turned to look at her, worry etched on his face. Was he in trouble? What had he done? What if she jumped him?

"I gotta ask you something," she said firmly.

"O-okay…?" he stuttered in response.

"Do you or do you not like name?" she demanded, grabbing his shoulders to prevent him from escaping the question.

"W-w-w-wha? N-no!" he stammered.

"Bullshit," came a voice from behind. Kirishima's friend stepped in. "He's in love with her. I'd say it's puppy love, but he literally adores her every body part. It's kinda creepy," his friend whispered the last part.

"Hey!" Kirishima yelped, his face turning crimson.

"Oh thank God!" Mina sighed in relief, her tense shoulders relaxing.

Kirishima's eyebrows shot up in confusion. "Wha-?"

"Nothing!" Mina blurted, and with that, she turned and ran away.

Now kirishima had a reason to believe that you liked him back, his determination to win you over becoming stronger. One random Tuesday, a hand taps you on the shoulder. You turn to face whosever this was, only to come face to face with kirishima “oh.. hey!” You managed to get out from the initial shock “hey.. Uhm” he stuttered “do.. do you know who I am?” “Eijiro kirishima” you blurted out almost immediately “I mean.. your kirishima? Right?” You tried to fix yourself up, tucking a lock behind your ear. Kirishimas eyebrows raised from the fact you so easily knew his name, most people barely knew him and if they did they were his friends and he only had about 5 friends in the whole school. “Yeah.. I am” he smiled.. he smiled a genuine smile. Showing off his sharp teeth “woah.. your teeth are sharp!” You looked surprised and shuffled closer to him so you could get a good look at his teeth. Kirishimas face turned pink “h-h-h-hey b-bit close there..” he didn’t try to back away however.

"Oh, I'm sorry!" you said, backing away. In the distance, you could see Mina grinning from ear to ear. You then looked back at Kirishima. "So… what can I help you with?" you asked, smiling sweetly and trying to act natural.

"U-uh, t-this… flower… it made me think of you," he stammered, quickly handing you a pink tulip that he had clearly found in the school garden.

"Oh, Kirishima, thank you!" you said, genuinely moved by his gift.

"N-no problem…" he mumbled, standing there awkwardly, his cheeks flushed with embarrassment.

Kirishima inhaled deeply, trying to settle his nerves. When he exhaled, he looked down at you and blurted out, "Gee… you're a bit short." His cheeks turned an even deeper shade of red.

"Hey! That's not fair—you’re just tall!" you whined, crossing your arms in mock anger.

Mina seemed more than pleased with what was unfolding before her eyes. "I-I’m sorry! I-it’s just you are small! It's not a big deal!" Kirishima stammered, trying to comfort you after inadvertently insulting you.

You turned around, facing away from him, pouting in exaggerated anger. Kirishima sighed and gently placed a hand on your shoulder. "I'm sorry…"

Your face flushed pink again as you turned to face him. "It's fine… just… don't do it again!" you whined, unable to stay mad at him.

Kirishima chuckled and nodded. "Okay, I won't. Promise."

You blushed again, feeling the warmth of his presence. He seemed so sincere, so kind, and his touch was so warm that it made your heart race.

suddenly the bell interrupted your interaction. You sighed in disappointment “well.. see you later?” Yiu looked up at him hopefully, he blushed and his face lit up “yeah.. see ya”

over the next few days you and kirishima spent more and more time together, often finding ways to run off from your friends and hang out.

One day, you waited for all your friends to run off and do other stuff just so you could sneak away and run in the direction were you and kirishima normally met up. You had gotten his message to signify that he was there so you knew where he was. You giggled and jumped onto the boys back, he yelped in surprise “hey *name*!” he said with a chuckle, patting your thigh as he bent his knees you help you slide down “let’s go to the cafeteria! They have pizza today and I REALLY WANT SOMEE” you insisted “I dunno… maybe I just wanna chill” he mumbled, tilting his head for you to follow him.

you two began walking through the court yard, talking and joking around. He seemed happier but more nervous than usual. The occasional stutter turning into a more frequent stammer. You just thought it was all the hormones of being 14, suddenly when kirishima brought you to a more… private place. He sighed “*name* I need to ask you something” he said with a determined look on his face “yeah? What’s up?” You asked, tilting your head to the side

“will you… will you be my girlfriend?!” He blurted out loudly, his fists curling up in nervousness. Your whole face turned pink “r-really? Yeah! Yeah I will!” You squealed and wrapped your arms around his neck, he blushed and sighed in relief. Kirishima placed his hands around your waist, you two hugging each other.

“AWWW GUYS!” Mina squealed, turns out she had followed you “SHUT UP.” You two screamed and you hid your face in his chest.

a year later

Now a days things are a little less awkward, you even got to share a dorm after convincing aizawa to let you guys. You rolled over in bed and buried your face in the crook of kirishimas neck “hey Bub” he said as he grabbed your thigh and brought it up to his hip. “Comfy?” He murmured and kissed your forehead, his warm lips pressed against your skin “mhm.. yeah..” you ran your fingers through his freshly re dyed red hair.

“I love you”

“I love you too kiri”

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nymphoniah · 8 days ago

Note

god you are SO right about ddlg logan <3 i love him with all my heart and i know he would love being called daddy and taking care of his good little princess... <3

i’m glad you agree!! :3 and omg after reading this i just thought about something:

i can just imagine logan absolutely melting when you call him daddy for the first time. you swear it was accidental, just a little freudian slip!

content/warnings: moreso fluff but mentions of sex, ddlg/cgl, age gap (reader is in their 20’s)

you’ve been dating logan for a while, the two of you have acknowledged the significant age gap between both of you, but despite the taboo, it didn’t matter at all.

you had a place of your own, but sometimes you’d crash at logan’s. there was no particular reason for each stay—some days you’d want to feel the presence of someone else, as living alone was more lonely than you thought it would be. other days, you’d just want to be fucked senseless by logan so hard that you couldn’t walk the next morning.

on one of the days you decided to stay at his place, you forgot you had work the next day. you insisted on taking an uber so he didn’t have to roll out of bed earlier than usual, but being the stubborn guy he is, he decided to drive you to work.

“i don’t need to show up to work in a limo,” you’d say, playfully punching his shoulder. “that’s a bit too excessive for me,”

“thought you’d like to put on a show,” logan teases, “ a’least that’s what you did for me last night,” he adds cheekily, glancing over at you, flashing you a wink through the glasses that hung low on his nose bridge.

you roll your eyes at him and continue the playful banter, trying to pass the commute to your workplace. time always flies by when you’re with logan.

so when it’s time for you to finally go, you give him a peck on the cheek, something short and simple—besides, if it were anything more, you’d end up being late for work.

“i’ll see you later!” you chirped, swinging open the car door, one leg out, the other still in the leg space of the passenger seat. “hold on, one more—,”

and you lean in for another quick, chaste kiss, this time on the lips. a smirk creeps upon your face as you hop out the car, a little pep in your step as you peek your head in a final time.

“bye f’real. see you later, daddy!”

daddy..? you think to yourself, proceeding to shut the door rather harshly. pausing in your tracks, you register the words, the word that slipped from your mouth, unsure how to react.

your back is turned away from logan’s gaze, but you can feel his eyes on you. it’d be embarrassing to walk away like nothing, but even more so to acknowledge what had happened, what will happen.

so you continue to walk off, mouth agape, head down, watching your feet shuffle against the pavement as you walk to the front door of your workplace.

logan’s a little bit shocked at first—almost a tad bit guilty, but it riles him up in a way he can’t explain. he felt his cock twitch at the mere thought of you calling him daddy. your daddy.

and in a this situation? on a random, gloomy tuesday morning? it’s so over for him.

fuck. he thinks to himself, fidgeting by pushing up his glasses, readjusting himself in his seat, fixing the rear view mirror of the limo—grasping at anything to distract himself from you.

but it’s useless. his mind is only filled of thoughts of you. you. you. now he absolutely has to treat you like the princess that you are, needs to take care of you, treat you right.

because that’s what daddies guys like him do.

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pomefioredove · 4 months ago

Note

hi!! could you pls do headcanons for the housewardens (+jamil) with a reader that stims? like if they get nervous or excited they do flappy hands! Gn reader, and the characters are crushing on reader but they’re not dating yet please! Thank you :>

:) of course! I stim so I get it LOL

summary: reader who stims! type of post: headcanons characters: riddle, leona, azul, jamil, kalim, vil, idia, malleus additional info: romantic or platonic for most, reader is gender neutral, reader is not specified to be yuu

Riddle already has a high "nonsense tolerance" when it comes to you

if you were anyone else, he would get overstimulated so fast

but, it's you

and he likes you

and he puts a lot more effort into making you comfortable around him than he would ever admit

so, by all means! fidget, stim, hum, he likes all of you

and if anyone else has a problem with it, they can go through him, first

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

if you can live with a little teasing, Leona can live with your stims

kidding

...kind of

he would never admit it to himself, but the way you get excited is kinda endearing to him

(major cuteness aggression)

so he just can't help teasing you a tiny bit for it

lovingly, of course

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Azul has an eye for detail and a love of figuring people out

and admiring observing you is one of his favorite pastimes!

he might need the information later

for... reasons.

he finds your mannerisms... interesting. your nervous ticks are so different from the other student's

then Floyd suggests you're obviously stimming; it just looks different "'cause you're on land and stuff,"

it makes sense (though he doesn't have to be so smug about it)

mystery solved

but Azul keeps staring at you, anyway. for... reasons.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

unsurprisingly, Kalim loves it

if he doesn't stim already, he might just start

it's a good way to let off some energy when he's overexcited, or calm him when he's nervous

(which happens more often than you'd think)

he would be baffled by the idea that people find it annoying

or weird, or childish

if he felt like someone was staring, or about to say something to you, he'd start stimming with you

power in numbers, right?

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

surprisingly (or unsurprisingly?) Jamil doesn't really... care

at this point, he's dealt with everything

a nuclear bomb could go off and he probably wouldn't even react

that's a slow tuesday for him

it's only during the metaphorical nuclear fallout

(when he has that migraine he always gets)

that he'll ask you for quiet and space

and that's the very most he'll say about it

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Vil isn't ignorant

he's not going to punish you for something that you find helpful

...and Rook has his little quirks, too

besides, there's nothing you could do that he wouldn't find endearing

what he will do, however, is help you manage

to your comfort, of course

there's a drawer full of stim toys in the Pomefiore lounge probably

and if not, Rook probably has a doohickey or two that can keep your hands occupied during quiet/important/etc occasions

otherwise, you're free to do whatever

I'm gonna be so real tbh I see Pomefiore as a very disability-friendly dorm and I'll die on that hill

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Idia! the freak himself

(affectionate)

nah, he doesn't care

he probably has a ton of his own stims he's already super embarrassed about

so he's definitely not going to say anything to you

if anything, it makes him feel better about himself

it's cute when you do it

he starts 3D printing you toys he think you'll like, most that he designed himself

so, he does care, but... in a good way!

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

LMAO okay. wait

between Lilia, Silver, and Sebek, there's no way Malleus would see stimming as anything but normal

Lilia probably starts crawling on the walls like a spider when he's excited

so hand-flapping is like aw... cute! :) to Malleus

he would, will, and has stared down anyone who makes a face or a nasty comment about it

so you can be sure that no one will ever say anything mean to you about it!

like, ever again

#twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #queued #riddle rosehearts x reader #leona kingscholar x reader #azul ashengrotto x reader #kalim al asim x reader #jamil viper x reader #vil schoenheit x reader #idia shroud x reader #malleus draconia x reader

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sleepyparalysisdmon · 23 days ago

Text

Ima

The three times Wonwoo flirted with you, and the one where you finally realize it.

Word count: 1.6k

Warnings: none that I can think of, just some fluff

This is part of the Three Times series. This one is inspired by this reaction.

One

“I was wondering when you’d be in,” you say as the shop door opens. Wonwoo gives a light smile.

“Miss me or something?” He saunters up to the counter. You roll your eyes. He’s in the game shop you manage every week, it seems. He likes to rent games from this shop. It’s a mystery why. You know what he does for work, you don’t live under a rock. He could buy all the games he wants. Still, he comes in to rent a game that you recommend, play it, and return it the next week with a report on what he thought.

“How was it?” You pick up the case he’s slid onto the counter and scan it for the return.

Wonwoo shrugs. “You were right. Could have been better.”

“I’m always right,” you chortle jokingly.

“I believe you,” he muses from across the counter. “What do you have for me this week?”

You pull a case from underneath the counter from the spot that is affectionately known as Wonwoo’s little hiding spot. It even has a little piece of tape on it with his name on it. Sometimes things stay there even if someone else asks for the item. Preferential treatment for your best customer after all. “The sequel. It’s better, I promise.”

He reaches for his pocket, but you wave him off. You don’t need his card to pull up his account anymore. You nearly have the account number memorized anyway. You’re sliding the case across to him when the shop door opens again. There’s a certain demographic that needs more help than others in a store like this, and the middle aged mom looking blankly around the store certainly fits the bill. Wonwoo doesn’t linger so you can help the woman find what she needs.

Two

“Well?” You ask from the back of the store. You don’t have to look at whose come in, you just know.

“You were right, it was better,” Wonwoo voices from the next aisle over before peeking around the corner. “Shipment? Anything good?”

“Yours are already at the front,” you tease.

Wonwoo looks smug. “Say you thought of me as soon as you opened the shipment.”

“Of course, I did,” you laugh, plopping the last of the plushies onto the shelf. “In fact, one of them I only ordered because of you.”

Wonwoo laughs as he takes the empty box from you and trails behind you to the counter. This is another little routine when he visits. He knows where the cardboard boxes go. He even breaks them down and takes them out back to recycling sometimes if you’re swamped. “You love me so much.”

You hum as you put his little stack of things on the counter. You process his return and check out the rentals to him. When you slide them to him, he slides them back. “Put them back in my hiding spot for a bit. I’ll take care of the boxes before I go.”

“Oh, Wonwoo, you don’t have to do that. I can take care of it later. I’m here all day.”

He brushed you off, stepping behind the counter and taking the box cutter from the drawer. “You work alone on Tuesdays and hate to lock up in the middle of the day or leave the store unattended. Just let me run and do it. It’ll take five minutes.”

He’s right. You hate working alone, but none of your part timers have any availability on Tuesdays. The woes of hiring college students with busy class schedules. You let him break down the boxes and take them out back.

When he comes back in, you hand him a plushie on top of his games. He looks like he might fight you on it, but you insist. “You aren’t getting paid for how you help around here. Just take the free plushie, Wonwoo.” He relents, telling you he’ll see you next week.

Three

You’re working in the back the next time Wonwoo comes in. One of your part timers interrupts you while you’re making the schedule. “Wonwoo’s here. What did you have in mind for him this time?” Wonwoo’s one of the store’s favorite customers, not just yours, but the part timers let you handle filling his stack underneath the counter.

“I’ll be out in a minute,” you tell him, saving your work. When you see Wonwoo, you laugh, “Back again already? It’s only been a few days.”

“What can I say? I missed you a little.” Wonwoo laughs.

“What’d you think?” You ask, holding up one of the cases he’s returning.

“Great, actually. Do you have a copy I can buy?” He asks.

You grin, pulling a brand new copy of the game from his little hiding spot. “Do I know you or what?”

“I guess so,” he agreed, grinning. When you scan the rentals you picked for him, he speaks up. “Can you extend the date for those? I’ll have to travel starting next week and they might be late.”

You wave him off. “You know I’ll waive the fees for you. When have you ever been late before?”

“Never. Otherwise, how would I see you?” He laughs, handing you his credit card for the new game. His phone rings as he’s signing the receipt and he quickly excuses himself. The shop door is closed before you pick up the receipt to put it in the register. For whatever reason, the receipt format has a tip line, despite never needing to tip someone at a game store. You’ve told corporate dozens of times that it confuses people, and you wish you’d pushed a little harder because Wonwoo’s left a totally unnecessary tip for the exact price of the plushie you gave him last week. He must have looked on the website to find out how much it cost.

You scoff, stuffing the receipt in the register. You’ll get him back for this somehow.

Four

The next time he comes in, you’re standing on a stool to change a light bulb. He scoffs as his hands come around your calves to steady you. “Why didn’t you let someone taller do this for you?”

“Couldn’t wait. The bulb blew yesterday back here and no one’s in until Wednesday. You can’t even see the shelves without it,” you say, making absolutely no move to get off the stool until the job is done. “How was your trip?”

He hums. “Fine. Paris Fashion Week.”

“Ooo, fancy,” you chuckle. “What? You didn't enjoy one of the most romantic cities in the world?”

You can hear the smile in his voice even though he’s behind you. “Eh. I’ve been before. Plus, you weren’t there.”

“Never been,” you say lightly. “All done!” You clap before trying to climb off the stool. You’re surprised when you’re suddenly in the air and even let out a little squeak. Wonwoo’s hands leave your waist as soon as your feet are back on the ground. “Thanks,” you say weakly.

He looks so fucking casual about it as he shrugs. “Didn’t want you to fall.” You’re abnormally flustered as you turn to go to the counter. You process his returns. It’s an old habit to pop open every case and do a once-over to the disc, even though you know Wonwoo’s never returned anything damaged.

Inside the last case is a slip of paper with some numbers written on it. “Oh, did you leave this in here?” You pick it up and hold it out to him.

He shakes his head. “Oh, no. That’s for you.”

“It’s a phone number,” you say, confused. You’re even more confused when he bites back a grin.

“Yeah, I know. It’s mine.”

“… What?”

He’s still grinning. “I know it’s on my account, but you’ve never used it, so I thought I’d make myself clear.”

“Do you… like me or something?” The words sound weird as they come out of your mouth.

This makes him bark out a loud, slightly exasperated laugh. “Y/N, I flirt with you every single time I come in. It’s really the only reason I come in.”

“Are you serious?” You stutter out.

“Yeah, I am. Not that it was getting me anywhere. I decided for a more direct approach this time. I missed you while I was traveling and having your phone number would have been nice.”

You’re still so baffled at his confession and subsequent amusement that you’re a little robotic. “Oh… okay then.”

“There’s really no pressure, Y/N.” He seems to mean it. He gestures behind the counter. “What do you have for me today?”

“A couple older ones, not sure if you’ve played them before,” you say, totally distracted. He glances at the covers and shrugs.

“I’ll take them,” he says simply. His phone rings and he steps away with an apology. The check out is complete within a few seconds, but you stall out, staring at the pen and post it notes next to the register. He sounds like he’s wrapping up his call, so you rush, scribbling on to the note and stuffing it inside one of the cases. When he approaches the counter again, he looks apologetic. “I’m sorry, I can’t stick around. That was work.” You wave him off and he’s almost out of the door when he turns around. “Really, no pressure, okay?”

You nod, grinning to yourself when the door closes behind him. You stuff the little paper into your pocket and move on with work. Later that night, you’re locking up when you’re phone buzzes. You recognize the number from earlier and it makes you laugh. So does the message.

‘I forgot how good this game is. You’re always right.’

#seventeen #svt #seventeen x reader #svt x reader #seventeen imagines #svt imagines #wonwoo x reader #wonwoo

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lover-of-mine · 1 year ago

Text

Tease Tidbit Tuesday!

I was tagged by @disasterbuckdiaz @wikiangela @daffi-990 thank you <333

I have been aggressively typing out the divorced era fic and it's been very fun to actually make buddie fight since I don't usually manage to get both of them riled up enough to make a scene and considering how much I want them to have a nice little fight, I'm actually having the time of my life having them yell at each other in the firehouse parking lot. Anyway, have the beginning of it just for fun prev snippet

Buck can be impulsive. He does things without fully thinking them through. He gets caught up in the moment and does what feels right without contemplating the possible consequences. But Buck is not reckless. He doesn't consciously put himself in unnecessary danger. That's something Eddie knows. Despite the affinity to daredevil-type rescues, Buck doesn’t put himself in danger without a plan. Not usually. That’s why Eddie freezes. He’s not proud of it, but he didn’t expect Buck to take that jump. For starters, they had no idea if that side was stable. They also had no idea if the girl was even there to begin with. And that landing looked like it was about to go along with the rest of the stairs under it, so even if it would make it easier for him to reach the door, there was a good chance that it wouldn't still be there by the time he made it back. Looking at it, Eddie is even surprised it didn’t break the second Buck landed. So Eddie freezes.

No pressure tagging 🩷: @eddiebabygirldiaz @bucks118 @try-set-me-on-fire @honestlyeddie @honestlydarkprincess @watchyourbuck @vampbuckley @housewifebuck @giddyupbuck @eowon @captain-hen

#divorced era? fic #writing #911 wip #buddie wip #tease tidbit tuesday #okay so eddie is angry because he's in love with an idiot and buck is being an idiot because he's in love with eddie #this is unnecessarily dramatic sokasokasokasas #no one will get seriously injured in this i think #theres a little bit in the middle thats up in the air #we'll see #skaoksoaksoaks

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fadedncity · 1 month ago

Text

(blood)thirst

wc: 11.2k

pairing: jeno x fem!reader

cw: smut, supernatural!au, lycan!jeno, vampire!reader, natural enemies to lovers, a tad bit of a slowburn (i swear i ain’t mean for it to be this long 😫), injuries, blood, angst, mention of death and family loss, reader is technically older (physically the same age) so..age gap(?), flirting, sexual tension, teasing, pet names, oral sex, multiple orgasms, slight blood play (very minor), unprotected sex, pretty sure that’s it

song inspo: closer by nine inch nails | acquainted by the weeknd

a/n: i’m sorry for the wait, edits took longer than expected but ty for the patience 🙏🏽

TUESDAY [3:31 AM]

Rain pours in sheets, pelting against your skin. Your footsteps are silent as you sprint through the underbrush, hot on the heels of the Lycan ahead of you.

Even with his head start, it took you no time to catch up to him. Your pace matched his as you zeroed in on his steady breathing and rhythmic drum of his footfalls. Lycans are fast, and he hadn't even shifted forms yet. But still, you had no trouble keeping up with him.

All the while you closely trail the Lycan, you're cautious of your surroundings, keeping your ears peeled for any sign of a presence accompanying you both in these woods.

Just as you were about to fall in line with him, an unexpected sound sliced through the night—a whistle, followed by the unmistakable twang of a bowstring.

An arrow whizzed past your head, embedding itself in a tree trunk to your left. Stopping in your tracks, you tilt your head, seeing sparks and smoke emitting from the arrowhead now embedded into the old pine tree. But you aren't given any more time to investigate as you're tackled to the ground by the Lycan.

Before you could push him off, his body shields you from the explosion of blinding light so bright you could've sworn it was day for a split second.

He just saved you.

"Are you okay?" Jeno asks, rain dripping from the ends of his hair as he stands from the dirt.

"Yeah," you nod, hesitantly taking the hand he offers. "Thanks," you say, looking at the tree bark melting off the trunk.

The humans have UV explosives. Great.

Both you and Jeno hear the sound of cars approaching from the nearby road and take off running again. Without a word, you plunge deeper into the forest, your movements synchronized with Jeno's by necessity.

"How did they even find us?" Jeno asks, looking over his shoulder, his voice barely audible over the rain.

"I was just going to ask you the same thing."

The hunters were relentless, their shouts echoing in the distance, along with the pounding of their boots. You moved swiftly, navigating the maze of branches and roots with an ease born from decades of practice. The forest seemed to close in around you, the trees pressing in like silent sentinels bearing witness to your flight.

Then shots start firing off, the sharp cracks of bullets cutting through the air. It sounds like they were coming from every direction, the rain making it harder for both you and Jeno to locate where the hunters are.

A bullet soars past you and stops whistling in your ears when it hits flesh, tearing through skin and muscle. Jeno beside you roars out in pain and begins to slow down as the metallic taste of blood enters the air around you. You shoot him a look of concern over your shoulder.

"I'll be fine," he says. But when you see his hand pressed to his shoulder, blood seeping from an injury that should've already started healing, you know he's far from okay. "We need to get out of these woods," Jeno winces as he applies pressure to the gunshot wound.

"I know a place not too far from here," you tell him.

[6:37 AM]

The moon's silver glow was waning, giving way to the first light of dawn. The storm had passed, leaving the forest dank and muddy. Urgency rose as you were closing in on daybreak. You and Jeno raced through the forest, the scent of his blood and sweat mingling in the damp morning air.

Jeno's breath was labored, each step accompanied by a pained grunt as he pushed himself forward. The wound on his shoulder, though not fatal, was slowing him down.

"The sun's gonna be up soon," Jeno pants, his voice weary.

"I know," you raise your eyes to the sky, "But we're almost there."

As you ascend the mountain, you spot the entrance behind a thick curtain of ivy and moss. The camouflaged door was almost invisible against the rocky face.

The two of you approach the fortified door. But not before you start to feel the uncomfortable sensation of pins and needles all over your body, a warning of the daylight's deadly approach.

The air grows warmer with the first rays of sunlight piercing through the treetops, casting long shadows stretching like skeletal fingers across the ground, leaving you exposed. You scream out in pain just before you can reach the door, feeling the severe burns blistering across your body under the sun's relentless gaze.

Without hesitation, Jeno quickly removes his jacket and throws it around you, shielding you as best as possible from the searing sunlight.

You reach the door with trembling hands and enter the security code to unlock it. You hear the mechanism click and attempt to push the door open, but it remains stubbornly shut. The hinges, unused for so long, now rusted, obstruct your entry.

"It's stuck," panic edges your voice.

Using his good shoulder, Jeno presses his weight into the door, helping you push it open. The thick metal gives way with a heavy creak, welcoming you inside. The moment you both are through, Jeno slams the door shut behind him, enveloping you in the safety of darkness.

The flickering emergency lights cast long shadows across the walls, the only illumination source along the steps down to the bunker. As you descend further down, you can hear the sounds of the forest growing distant, muted, and distorted through the layers of earth and stone.

With the adrenaline from the chase already simmered down, the reality of your situation sets in. Here you are, a vampire, with Jeno, a lycan, forced into hiding together by humans hunting you both. The silence stretches between you, heavy with unspoken words only filled by the sounds of Jeno's steps behind you.

Your burns are already beginning to heal now that you're out of the sunlight. The cool, dim interior of the bunker feels like a sanctuary, the pain in your skin subsiding by the time you lead Jeno into a high-ceiling room.

"Thanks, again," you break the silence, returning his jacket. Even in the shadows, you can see Jeno's eyes examining your burns. "I'll heal," you assure him. "You, on the other hand, aren't for some reason."

"I'm fine," Jeno lies.

"You're not. You're still bleeding out. I can smell it."

Jeno stays silent, knowing there's no use in arguing with you.

"I'll go see if I can find the generator and a med kit or something," you say.

The underground facility is large enough to house an entire clan and well-equipped for emergencies—or at least it was once. The thick and impenetrable walls provide a sense of security, but the darkness within is oppressive, the silence deafening.

You move through the narrow corridors, blindly navigating yourself through the place. The emergency lights give off a faint glow, barely enough to see by. The bunker has an air of abandonment from years of sitting unused here. Cobwebs clung to the corners, and dust motes danced in the faint light.

Jeno isn't sure how long you're gone, as all he can focus on is the agonizing pain in his shoulder, further slumping against the wall to support his weight.

The lights finally flicker on, and you return with a med kit in hand, finding Jeno right where you left him. His breathing was shallow, face pale and drawn, sweat glistening on his brow. From where he stands, the light casts deep shadows across his face, highlighting the strain etched into his features.

"Sit," you say, opening the case of medical supplies on the table.

"I can do it myself," Jeno mutters, though his voice lacks conviction as he weakly pushes himself away from the wall.

"You look like you can barely stand on your own. You lose anymore blood and you won't be doing anything yourself anymore," your words are punctuated by the snap of latex gloves you slip on.

Jeno has no energy to protest. He drops his jacket onto a chair and peels off his shirt, sitting on the table before you.

You don't have much time to ogle over the Lycan's chiseled physique as your eyes are drawn to the discolored skin around the bullet's entry point. In all your years of existence, you've seen some pretty bad shit. But even this sight—Jeno's bloodied and seemingly infected shoulder, is enough to make even you wince.

"There's no exit, which is probably why you're not healing. Whatever specialized bullet hit you is still in there," you observe, examining the injury closely.

"Great," Jeno groans, throwing his head back. "Think you can get it out?"

"Sure, but it's not gonna be fun," you tell him.

"Let's just get it over with."

Using saline solution from the kit, you clean enough blood off his shoulder to be able to clearly see the entry point before you grab the forceps and carefully search for the bullet. Jeno clenches his jaw, deeply breathing through his nose with flared nostrils.

"I've almost got it," you tell him. You pick up the pituitary rongeur once you locate the bullet. Jeno grips the table's edge so hard you hear the slightest splintering of wood in his grasp. You pull the bullet out of Jeno's shoulder, his skin sizzling until you've got it out completely.

"Pure silver," you study the small piece of metal, holding it up to the light. "A few more hours and this thing surely would've killed you." You toss the bullet into a stainless steel tray with a clatter.

"Now it's my turn to thank you," Jeno grimaces, holding the piece of gauze against his shoulder as you silently asked. "Would've had second thoughts if I knew getting shot would be like this." he jokes.

"I don't have to tell you silver's poison to you guys but since it was lodged in there pretty good for so long your healing won't immediately kick in. But you should be good in a few hours," You wrap bandages around Jeno's arm, securing it with medical tape.

He gently grabs your hand, getting you to stop working and meet his eyes, "Seriously, thank you," Jeno says.

"You're welcome," you quietly reply, unable to pull yourself away or at least break eye contact.

A shrill sound echoing off the stone walls breaks the fragile truce. You glance at your phone and see Draven's name flashing across the screen.

You put some space between you and Jeno as you step away to answer the call, trying to keep your voice steady. "Draven."

"Are you alright?" Draven's voice is sharp, filled with concern and authority.

"I'm fine. It was the hunters. They knew about the meeting and ambushed us. Only Jeno and I got out." you reply.

"Where are you now?"

"We're at the old Valor safe house."

"We? You're still with the Lycan now?" Draven asks.

"Yes," your eyes flicking over to Jeno, who's having a similar conversation with his father, "I trust him. He saved my life."

"You're mother's daughter you are," Draven mutters on the other line.

"And what about it?" you ask, an undertone of malice in your voice at the mention of your mother. "How the fuck did they find us, Draven?"

"This is no time for that conversation," Draven lowers his voice, "I will say you might be better off where you are right now."

"What happened? Is everyone alright?"

"Seems the humans had planned a coordinated attack. We've been taking in vampires all night from all over the city. People are shaken up, scared, angry," Draven says. "It might take us a while to come out there and get you. Are you sure you'll be okay until then?"

"Haven't really had a chance to settle. Don't know what's left around here, not sure if there'll be much left to find."

"We'll try to get out there as soon as things calm down. It's getting late and after the night we've all had we ought to all get rest. Take care of yourself."

"Take care of yourself too, Draven."

You turn to find Jeno already having ended his call with his father.

"Everything okay?" you ask.

"My father said we should stay put," he says, clenching his phone so tightly in his hand that you worried he might break it.

"Draven said the same thing," you can practically feel Jeno's anger broiling from across the room, "But something else happened?"

"A few members of the pack got attacked last night. They're okay but they barely made it out."

"A few of our nests got raided too."

"And we're just supposed to stay here? They attack us unprovoked and we're just supposed to take it? Do nothing?? How can you be so calm about this right now? I mean aren't you angry?" Jeno asks.

You furrow your brows, "Of course I am. But there's nothing that we can do about it right now. We are miles away from the city, our people, reinforcements. And everything that happened last night was proof enough that we are severely out of league here on our own, okay. And let's also not forget to mention that it is daytime and I quite literally can't do a fucking thing right now," you say, "So we take a minute. We recuperate here. Heal," you nod toward his arm, "Rest," you tiredly sigh, rubbing your temples.

At this moment, Jeno was envious of how you seemed to keep a level head, now slightly ashamed of his outburst.

Jeno's resolve softens. "You're right, I just-" his words abruptly stop once he looks at you, "Shit, are you okay?" he asks, concern etched into his features.

Your brows furrow at his question before you feel the blood dripping from your nose. Somewhat embarrassed, you curse under your breath as you wipe the blood from your face.

"Yeah, it's just my body telling me I'm overdue for sleep." With not enough time to explain much else to Jeno, you say, "Doesn't matter which room you choose. Showers should still work and clothes should still be in the closets. Take what you want" before rushing out of the room.

He nods, "Thanks—" Jeno can barely get a word out before you've already disappeared down the hallway, locking yourself away in your own room, "…Goodnight, I guess."

[6:42 PM]

Lukewarm water sputters out of the showerhead, and you take note of the poor water pressure, silently cursing the antiquated plumbing. The water drips down your body in an inconsistent stream, making it a less-than-satisfying experience. You scrub away the remnants of the previous day, feeling the grime of dread and tension wash away.

In a new change of clothes, before you did anything else, you knew you needed to scour this place for a charger since you woke up to find your phone dead.

On your way toward the kitchen you find yourself stopping in front of a half-open door, peeking inside to find Jeno still asleep. He's sprawled on the bed, his brow furrowed even in his sleep, a testament to the strain of last night and this morning's events. The sight of him stirs a mixture of emotions as you watch his chest slowly rise and fall—relief that he's safe and a flicker of something deeper that you quickly suppress.

With your luck, you were able to find a charger as well as additional supplies to help sustain you and Jeno while you're staying here. It's not much but you'll take it over nothing.

You open the fridge door and to your disappointment, only find one bag of o-negative in there. You didn't even get a chance to feed yesterday as you were planning to after your meeting with Jeno. And we all know how that ended.

You don't dwell for too long, your attention immediately going to your buzzing phone on the kitchen counter.

"Hey," you answer.

"What the fuck?? Draven told us what happened, are you okay?" Tyra asks.

"Could be better. All I have access to right now is O, and there's barely any of that but the hunters are off our trail, so hopefully Jeno and I won't be stuck inside this ancient tomb much longer."

"You're with Jeno? Like Jeno Lee?"

"Do you know any other Jenos?" you ask.

"Draven didn't say you were cooped up with a Lycan. And him? He's like the hottest Lycan to ever grace this earth. Maybe he can help you break this dry spell after two centuries." Tyra lighthearted jokes.

"First of all, fuck you. Second, I wouldn't say all that."

"Are you telling me he's not hot?" she questions.

"He's…" you trail off, "Alright."

Tyra scoffs on the other line, "Why do things like this never happen to me? If I were you, we'd be settling more than just a peace agreement."

You laugh, "Yeah, I need a break from you. Maybe being stuck here ain't too bad."

"You sure ain't wrong about that. It's a fucking shit show here—just a second!" Tyra yelled to someone in the background, "I gotta go, I'll talk to you later though."

"Talk to you later, Ty."

Just as you hang up the phone, you hear the faint creak of a door opening. You look up to see Jeno emerging from his room. Now adorning loose dark grey sweatpants and a white button-up with about only two buttons fastened.

"Evening," he greets you, his voice husky from sleep.

"Good evening," you clear your throat, "How're you feeling?"

He shrugs with only one shoulder, "Like I've been shot. Took damn near half the morphine in the med kit for me to sleep a wink."

"You definitely slept more than a wink," you mumble, beckoning him over to you, "Do you mind if I....?"

"Be my guest," he effortlessly undoes the couple of buttons with one hand, letting the shirt fall off his shoulders.

You carefully unwrap the gauze, allowing the bloodied bandages to fall to the floor. Jeno watches you examine his wound.

"What is it?" he asks, seeing your brows stitch together.

"You should've started healing by now," you frown, seeing as his shoulder doesn't look any better than before. Instead, it seems as if the infection is spreading. And in your predicament, your options are pretty limited. "Do you trust me?" you ask.

"Do I really have much of a choice?"

"Not really, no," you say, grabbing his forearm with both hands, "I'm sorry about this."

"What are you-" But before Jeno can finish, you snap his radius in a clean break. Jeno's angry howl bounces off the aged stone walls.

"Jen-"

He growls, pushing you away, "Get the fuck back," Jeno glares at you with black beady eyes.

You keep your distance and watch as his shoulders heave and the muscles in his back ripple under his skin. Claws start to grow from his nail beds, and his ears stretch until they're pointed. You can hear the fabric of his clothes tearing as Jeno grows twice in size before your eyes. Roars of pain continue to rip from Jeno's throat with his transformation completely overcoming him.

Standing across from you is no longer the man you had gotten yourself acquainted with over the past 24 hours. Instead, this half-man, half-beast towers before you, baring sharp canines and a senseless predatory hunger behind his eyes, absent of his humanity.

You glance at the dining table, spotting your desert eagle where you left it this morning, and try not to make any sudden movements that could possibly aggravate the Lycan.

"Now, you know I was just trying to help," you say, your voice steady but soft as you slowly inch closer to the table.

Jeno's growl reverberates through the confined space, a guttural warning before he lunges at you with alarming speed. Instinct took over. You dodge Jeno, vaulting yourself into the air, flipping over him, and landing on the table gracefully.

Your fingers curl around the grip of your pistol, aiming your gun at Jeno before he can even think about charging at you again. Your finger hovers over the trigger, the metallic click of the safety being disengaged echoing loudly in the tense silence.

"Jeno, you've saved my life and now I'm just trying to save yours. Do not make me shoot you," you warn, your voice a low, deadly calm. You aim at his leg, sure to temporarily debilitate him instead of shooting to kill.

A beat of silence passes before Jeno's breathing begins to normalize. The wildness in his eyes gradually softens as his shoulders drop and his posture straightens. His transformation recedes, muscles shrinking and claws retracting until he is once again in his human form. You watch his eyes change from feral black to their original deep chestnut brown, now filled with exhaustion.

"Sorry," Jeno apologizes, his voice rough with lingering regret.

You wave off his apology, "Don't sweat it," With a click, you reengage the safety and lower your gun as you hop off the table, "It worked," you grin triumphantly, noting the lack of any wound or scar on his shoulder.

Jeno looks down at his shoulder and arm, flexing both experimentally. "That was extremely stupid of you, you know," he says, shaking his head,

"The moon isn't the only thing that influences your transformation," you shrug, "If you transform, your healing factor kicks in and it did. Besides, it's not like you'd be the first Lycan to try and attack me," you say with a faint, wry smile.

WEDNESDAY [9:18 PM]

"They wouldn't be able to find this place, right?" Jeno asks in a hushed tone like he was afraid to break the silence.

"I highly doubt it. Many vampires don't know about this place, I only do because I was brought here when I was younger," your eyes are still trained on the monitors in front of you, "However considering they shouldn't have been able to find out about our meeting, I wouldn't put anything past them," you tear your attention away from live surveillance footage to give it to Jeno.

"How do you think they found out?" The light of the computer monitors cast an artificial glow across Jeno's features.

"That's what I've been wondering since," you say, with a suggestive glance.

"What are you insinuating?" Jeno turns his chair toward you.

"I'm insinuating nothing. It's just interesting. Your father and Draven were supposed to meet but something happened last minute and neither of them could attend so they send you and me instead? And then we get ambushed. It's just not a coincidence is all I'm saying."

A beat of silence passes as Jeno thinks over your theory, the buzzing of the fluorescent lights from the halls filling the space.

"Are you saying that they knew?"

"I don't know your father much so I can't speak for him. But Draven..." you wince, "It wouldn't surprise me."

"Why would Draven risk your life if he thought it was a setup anyway?" Jeno furrows his brows.

You shrug, "He knows I'd be able to handle myself, and I did." you pursed your lips. "I'm not saying he knew what exactly was going to go down but Draven is pretty paranoid. He doesn't trust many people. So if he got a feeling he was being betrayed, especially by one of his own, he'd hold his card pretty close to his chest."

"He didn't tell you he was thinking any of this?"

"Draven doesn't necessarily have to tell me anything. I just know. He was suspicious of a mole within the coven, which is why I didn't ask any questions when he requested I go in his place."

"You're making it seem like this isn't the first time something like this has happened."

"Well not this particular situation, but close enough. I mean, you've met Draven. This ain't the first time someone would've tried to take him out," you smile, "Why do you think there are so many security cameras around this side of the mountain?" You leave Jeno to keep monitoring the cameras if he wishes as you go to take a shower.

. . .

Stepping into the library, your eyes adjust to the dim lighting as you find Jeno seated at a table. His expression is one of deep concentration and fascination, absorbed in the pages and pictures laid out before him.

"Keeping yourself entertained?" you ask, your muted footsteps shuffling into the room.

The glow of the old chandelier shines a warm, golden light from overhead, casting a soft halo around Jeno, "Yeah, actually," he chuckles, "Is this you?" Jeno asks, holding up a photograph. The sepia tones capture you and Draven in a snapshot of joy, the two of you laughing amidst a gathering of friends, your clothes reflecting the exuberance of the roaring 20s.

"Yeah," you murmur. Taking the photograph gently, a wave of nostalgia washes over you, "That was a long time ago."

It was almost adorable, the curiosity that glimmered in Jeno's eyes, thousands of questions swimming behind them. You roll your eyes, pulling the chair next to him out.

It was unexpected of Jeno to be able to draw you out of your usual reserve. It doesn't even register to either of you that minutes turned into hours stretching into the early morning.

"How long have you known Draven?"

"Too long," you laugh, "He knew me when back when I was still human. He's been around longer than almost anyone."

Too enamored in the pages before him, your eyes steal a few glances at the man next to you. You study Jeno silently as he carefully picks up each photo. He is handsome, and undeniably so, it's evident he's been blessed by Aphrodite. The way the light plays across his features only accentuates his striking looks, and you can't resist your admiration.

Trailing your eyes up his neck, your mouth waters, watching the beat of his pulse throb beneath his skin—Damn, I'm gonna need to feed again soon. You snap out of it.

Jeno's voice pulls you back to reality, "I recognize this picture. Who is this?" Jeno asks, sliding another photograph across the table toward you.

Your eyes flicker from the photograph to Jeno, "Where have you seen this before?" you ask, your voice tinged with surprise.

"In my house," Jeno replies, pulling out his phone, "My mother has the full picture." He shows you a family picture taken in the living room of his house. "She's standing right next to her," he says, zooming in on a framed photo behind his sister's head.

Surely, it's the full photograph. Your mothers, standing side by side, their smiles as radiant as ever.

Jeno watches the sadness fill your eyes as you give a small smile, "It's my mom," you say.

Sensing the shift in your mood, Jeno quickly apologizes. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have-"

"It's okay," you stop him, "I just...don't talk about her much." The room feels heavy with unspoken emotions.

Jeno nods, not wanting to push further. "I understand, I'm sorry. I didn't know, I wouldn't have-"

You stop him firmly, yet gently, "No, Jen, it's fine, seriously," you rest your hand atop his, "It's not that I don't want to talk about her. It's just I have a hard time doing it sometimes."

Despite the somber turn in conversation, Jeno's presence is a comfort as he closes his fingers around yours. You weren't expecting to feel the warmth of his hand in yours, but it offers you solace. The silence returns, but this time, it feels more like a shared moment of understanding rather than discomfort.

"What was she like?" he asks quietly.

Flipping through the weathered photo album you thought had been lost all these years, a warm smile takes over your face. "She was beautiful. And funny, and smart, and full of love," you say, your voice tinged with pride and sorrow. "She was raised by witches, so she was no stranger to any of this," you wave your hand, indicating the room filled with arcane books and artifacts, "That's how she met Draven and probably how she knew your mom."

"I can't believe my mother never said anything about her."

"I'd understand why. Her death hit a lot more than just me pretty hard."

You knew it was coming sooner or later and waited for the question to fall from his lips. "What happened?"

"We were attacked by Lycans," you say, and Jeno's face is immediately taken over by guilt mixed with empathy. "They were infected with vampire venom." You begin to explain, "Usually it's harmless. The humans even have found ways to use it as another means to get high. But in large enough doses, our venom for you guys-"

"Turns us into rabid animals. I know, my father has told us the stories," sorrow and compassion are etched into Jeno's features, "I'm so sorry, y/n."

You continue, "My mom didn't care about surviving herself. She used her last breath to make Draven promise to save me at all costs. Next thing I knew, I woke up completely healed with a fatal allergy to sunlight and an insatiable bloodlust."

A heavy silence settles between you two as Jeno carefully chooses his next words.

"Do you know what happened to the Lycans?"

You shook your head, "Draven and a few others had tracked the pack across a few states but by the time he caught up with them they were dead."

"I'm sorry-"

"Please, Jeno, once was enough," you squeeze his hand, still unable to look him in the eyes, "I don't blame you or any Lycan for that fact. All that anger and pain," you let out a shaky breath, "I'm holding it for the right person."

"What do you mean?" he asks.

"Lycans know the risk of vampire venom so they couldn't have willingly taken it. And I mean a whole pack?" your brows furrow, "Someone purposely infected them. We just don't know who or why."

"You know I could ask around see if anyone in the pack knows anything."

"Draven would've already thought to do that years ago already. Every trail went cold. A part of me has come to terms with the fact that we'll probably never get those answers."

Jeno nods, a thoughtful frown creasing his brow. "I'll still keep an ear out. Maybe something new will come up."

You nod, a small but genuine smile touching your lips despite the heaviness in your heart. "Thank you, Jeno."

Jeno nods in understanding, stroking the back of your hand with his thumb, a shared understanding passing between you. The library feels smaller now, filled not just with books and memories.

THURSDAY [8:19 PM]

This is gonna be a problem.

Each moment without feeding stretches into an eternity as you stare at the empty shelves of the fridge.

"What was that?" Jeno's voice echoes across the room from his spot on the couch.

Fuck, he heard me? "Nothing," you reply, closing the fridge quickly.

Your stomach growls insistently, hunger gnawing at your insides, and you begin to reminisce about that last bag of O-neg you had.

The thought of descending from the safety of the mountain to seek sustenance in the nearest town flitted through your mind, but the ever-present risk of hunters finding you keeps you rooted in place. You decide against burdening Jeno with your dilemma, as there was little he could do to remedy the situation without endangering both your lives anyway.

When you turn around, you nearly collide with Jeno's chest as he had moved across the room faster than you anticipated. He's standing close enough you can feel the warmth radiating off his body. You keep your shoulders square even as Jeno's intoxicating scent invades your space once again.

"What's wrong?" he asks, his brow furrowing with concern.

"Nothing," you repeat, attempting to sidestep him, but he blocks your path, his expression unwavering.

"You're lying," He narrows his eyes, scanning your face as he takes a step forward.

"No, I'm not," you counter, backing up until you feel the refrigerator door against your back.

"Then move," Jeno presses, his voice firm but not unkind.

"Why must I?" you challenge, crossing your arms defensively.

"You always this stubborn?"

"Since the day I was born," you grin proudly.

"Must I demonstrate how easily I can move you, sweetheart?" Amusement tinges Jeno's tone.

Sweetheart? Oh, we're going there?

You smirk involuntarily, unfolding your arms. "That's cute but you're just a pup, Jen. Let's not get too ahead of ourselves now," you teasingly pout.

Jeno pokes his cheek with his tongue at your comment and accepts your challenge. He starts by attempting to move you aside, but you catch his wrist in your hand before he can lay a finger on you. He tries to grab you with his other hand, but you're still faster, blocking his arm before you hit him directly in the middle of his chest, making the Lycan stumble back.

Jeno laughs.

You haven't moved from your spot, waiting for his next move before he launches himself into a series of swift strikes aimed at testing your defenses. You retaliate by throwing your fists almost faster than he can block, aiming for his midsection, and landing a hit. Jeno's knocked back a few steps, putting enough space between you both to give him time to catch his breath.

"Draven's right, you really do know how to handle yourself."

"Of course I can, that's how I saved your ass remember? Now we gonna keep talking or are you gonna show me something worth my while?"

The rhythm of this spontaneous spar intensifies as you both circle each other.

The kitchen area echoes with the sound of your footsteps, grunts of exertion, and the occasional light laughter as your movements adapt to one another's.

But it all comes to a stop in a silent blink of an eye, your back lands on a flat surface as you're pinned to the dining room table. You underestimated his speed, unable to leg sweep him as you planned, now your faces only inches apart.

Jeno gives you a lopsided grin as he looks down at you, his chest heaving, his eyes dark as they peer through silky curtains of hair. The tension between you crackles in the air as you have him trapped between your legs. The room's atmosphere seems palpable and charged with you both unexpectedly in this vulnerable position, but you neither move as the seconds stretch on.

Jeno seemingly snaps out of the trance first, letting go of your wrists and weaseling his way from between your legs. When he swings open the fridge door, the triumphant smile on Jeno's face drops as he stares at the empty shelves. "There's nothing in here."

"Exactly," you sit up, swinging your legs over the table's edge, "There're no more blood reserves," you say.

"And you weren't going to say anything?" Jeno's concern turned to incredulity.

"What's the point? The closest blood bank is 50 miles that way," you gesture vaguely, "And in case you forgot, we're down here hiding from humans who want to kill us."

"And what's going to happen to you if you go too long without feeding?" Jeno presses, his voice softening with worry.

"I'll start decomposing from the inside out," you reply bluntly, "But it'd be a while before that happens."

"So what, you were going to hide this and just suffer in silence for god knows how long we're stuck here?"

You shrug, "It could be worse," you murmur as if it would lighten the mood, "But what exactly could you do to help me in this situation?" you retort, a note of resignation in your voice.

"You could feed from me," Jeno suggests quietly.

"Jeno, I'm not drinking your blood," you shake your head.

"Why? Because you're above drinking Lycan blood, princess?" Jeno's tone is gentle but insistent.

You narrow your eyes at the use of the pet name, "I never said that. Blood from banks is processed and centrifuged, so it's essentially watered down compared to drinking from a live...donor," you explain, your words measured. "When vampires directly feed from someone, we get some of their memories, feelings, and thoughts. It can get pretty intense and somewhat very intimate. Something similar would happen if you were to consume my blood as well. Which is why I wasn't sure whether to give you any when you weren't healing, so—"

"So you broke my arm to trigger my transformation to heal me instead," Jeno interjects, his voice tinged with understanding.

"Yeah. I am sorry about that, but like I said, I had faith it'd work," you admit, your tone apologetic yet resolute.

"Do you not trust me?" Jeno's question hung in the air, laden with unspoken implications.

"If I didn't trust you, I wouldn't be refusing," you reply softly, "My bad I consider you a friend rather than food," your tone dripping with sarcasm.

"Friends, huh," Jeno muses, a hint of a smile touching his lips.

"Don't push it," you warn with a small smirk.

"When was the last time you fed?" he asks.

"Two days ago. It'll be enough to hold me over for another few days. So let's just hope we're saved by then," you say.

FRIDAY [7:50 PM]

"Jeno?" you call out, stepping into the common area.

Still no answer. You woke up to find the bunker suspiciously quiet. You already checked his room, and the lights in the library were still off. No TV was on, no shower being run, not even a creak of a floorboard. The usual draw of breath Jeno's lungs take could no longer be heard by your ears that had grown finely tuned to the Lycan.

If he's still here there's no way you wouldn't be able to detect him.

You reach the security room, your eyes bouncing around the screens, searching for any sign of Jeno. Your worry is quickly replaced with fury when you spot a shadowy figure approaching through the trees.

Jeno calmly strolls along the path that leads up to the main entrance with no sense of urgency in his stride. With his hands in his pockets—it even looks like he's whistling. He can't be serious right now.

When Jeno returns to the bunker, he finds you waiting for him at the bottom of the steps, your arms crossed over your chest.

Jeno flashes you the sweetest smile when he sees you, "Hey-"

"What the fuck?" you ask, brows stitched together.

He looks around, confused, "What?"

"What? Where were you?"

"In town," Jeno answers simply.

"You went into town?" you narrowed your eyes.

"Yeah," he mocks your tone as he drops his bag onto the counter with a heavy thud, beginning to unload its contents, "You needed blood. And since you weren't going to drink mine, I just got some more for you," Jeno opens a mini cooler, placing a blood bag in your hand, "Plus I was really starting to get tired of beef jerky and crackers, and decided to grab a few things for myself since I was already out."

You sigh, feeling a surge of conflicting emotions, as you hold the bag of AB blood in your hands. He got your favorite type without even asking. "That was extremely stupid of you, you know," you say, fighting a smile threatening to spread across your face.

"It was worth the risk. I'd rather have another run in with those hunters than let you die of starvation on the hope that our families will come get us in time."

"Seriously, Jeno, if anything had happened-"

"And as you can see, nothing did. I made it back home safe and sound, making sure I didn't leave a trail that could compromise us. You do know I am capable of handling myself right?" he says, "But if I didn't know any better, I'd think you were worried about me, sweetheart," he tilts his head at you.

"You're young, of course you don't know any better," you scoff, teasingly rolling your eyes, "What I'm saying is, I hope whatever else you got was worth it."

"It definitely was," he grins, pulling out a bottle of red wine. "Join me?"

"I don't drink ," you tell him.

"I know. I still like your company," You don't know why you feel fluttering in your chest, your heart doesn't even beat. "I mean with all this, I really don't wanna dine alone."

The corners of the lips curl upward, "You're asking me to have dinner with you?"

"Yes," he answers without missing a beat, "I mean it's Friday night, neither of us is going anywhere. What's the harm in a little normalcy role play?"

"Role play? We haven't even made it to dinner yet," you joke. You lean closer, "On one condition."

Jeno leans in as well, a curious smirk playing on his lips "And what might that be, princess?"

. .

The kitchen was filled with a mouthwatering aroma of sizzling meat, rich herbs, and melted butter. It was dimly lit, the only light from the soft under-cabinet lights casting a warm glow over the countertops. One of Draven's old jazz records you found plays softly in the background, its sultry notes weaving through the air.

You sit perched on a barstool by the island, wine glass in hand, watching Jeno concentrate intently on the stovetop. His hair's slightly tousled, a few loose strands falling over his forehead as he focuses on the skillet before him.

"Make sure you sear it evenly on each side," you call out, "You want that perfect crust to lock in the flavor, otherwise, you'll end up with a dry, sad piece of meat."

Jeno turns his head slightly, giving you a sideways look. "Yes, chef," he drawls sarcastically, but there's a hint of a smirk on his lips. "Anything else, or are you gonna go back to sitting there looking pretty, silently criticizing my every move?"

"I'm also simply admiring the view," you reply, meeting his eyes and holding them for a beat longer than usual. Jeno's smirk widens, and for a moment, the sizzling of the steak seems louder in the charged silence that follows.

"Where'd you learn all this stuff by the way?" Jeno asks.

"When you've been around as long as I have, you're bound to pick up a few things."

"Wouldn't have taken you for such a food connoisseur."

"Why, because I don't eat?"

"I mean, yeah."

"Well I don't eat anymore. I used to love cooking, when I did though. I loved the satisfaction of a good meal, good wine. It's almost better than sex." you reminisce.

"Almost?"

You laugh, "Let it rest for a few minutes when it's done. Don't rush it. The juices need time to settle."

Jeno nods, stepping away from the stove impatiently hovering, however.

The corner of your mouth lifted. "Patience not one of your strong suits, Lee?"

He scoffs, "I have plenty of patience," he counters, turning off the burner and setting the pan aside. He wipes his hands on a towel, moving closer until he's standing directly in front of you, a playful glint in his eye. "Especially when properly motivated."

You raise an eyebrow, "And what exactly motivates you, Jen?"

"A lot."

"Like?"

Jeno leans in slightly on his elbows, close enough that you can smell the faint scent of the wine on his breath mixed with the aroma of herbs and spices wafting in the air. "Proving you wrong is one thing," he murmurs, gaze locking with yours. "But maybe it's just the way you look at me when I do something right."

You somehow manage to keep your composure, "Keep talking like that, and I might start thinking you're doing all this to impress me."

"Is it working?" he asks, eyes hopeful.

"And if it is?"

Jeno steps back, giving you a wicked smile as he turns to plate the steak.

Jeno had finished eating nearly two hours ago, but you two had still not moved from your seats. His empty plate sitting between his second glass of wine and your fourth of AB.

The low hum of the jazz record is now barely noticeable beneath the sounds of your laughter mixed with Jeno's.

You notice his gaze lingering just a little too long every time you meet his eyes, and the way his lips curve into a subtle smirk when you catch him.

Every time his knee brushes against yours under the table, a subtle but deliberate touch, your skin prickles with awareness. You felt the weight of his presence adjacent to you, the air between you simmering like the heat still rising from the abandoned stove.

Jeno's leaning back comfortably in his chair. His eyes study your lips as you take a sip from your glass, watching as you catch a drop of blood from the corner of your mouth with your thumb before licking your finger clean. Jeno holds onto every word that comes out of your lips, and his wavering eyes give him away.

You shifted slightly, trying to get comfortable, but each movement brought you closer to him, your leg brushing against his, and that simple contact sent a jolt of heat through your body.

"Sorry," you softly apologize, already pulling away. You don't get too far before he's bringing you back.

"Don't be," He gently tugs your leg into his lap. His eyes never leave yours as his hand circles your calf, his touch soft yet confident as he begins to massage your flesh. "Continue," Jeno tells you.

You couldn't even remember what you were talking about. Jeno's eyes bore into yours like he was gazing into your soul, leaving you breathless, your nerves seemingly burning beneath his palm.

Suddenly feeling suffocated by the mounting tension, you stand. You think about clearing the dishes from the table so you can distract yourself from Jeno's eyes quietly undressing you or ignore how good it felt to have his hands on you and how you desperately yearned for more. But just as you're on your feet, Jeno takes your hand, and you let his fingers close around yours.

"You know what you're doing," you murmur accusatorially.

"Do you want me to stop?" he asks.

"No," you sheepishly answer unable to look at him.

"Then why are you running, princess?" he asks, getting you to meet his eyes.

"I'm not," you protest.

"You are," he retorts, "Cause you only think it's fair for me to be the flustered one here, huh?"

You roll your eyes, all but verbally confirming his verdict, "You're enjoying this way too much."

"You have no idea," Jeno grins.

You hike up your dress with your free hand and straddle his lap. The space closing between you feels electric, charged with unspoken desire.

You cup his cheek as he snakes an arm around your waist. His skin is warm compared to yours, your fingertips feeling like an icy cold kiss on his cheek. You catch his eyes darting down to your lips once again.

"Do you want something, Jen?"

"Yes," his hand inches up your thigh.

"Then why haven't you asked?"

"Can I ki-" you don't let him finish, crashing your lips into his.

The kiss starts soft and exploratory but quickly deepens as the tension that's been building between you both finally finds release.

His hand travels up your back, sending shivers through you while your own hands take hold of his face, deepening the kiss. The world beyond the two of you seems to fade away, leaving just the two of you in this moment.

You taste the sweet bitterness of the red wine on Jeno's tongue as it pushes past your lips, dancing with your own. His hands on your thighs set your skin aflame as they inch up higher and higher. You hum into Jeno's mouth when his hands cup your ass, softly squeezing.

Your hands travel down his chest, and you feel the contours of his muscles beneath his shirt, now wanting it so desperately out of the way. Your hips move on their own accord, dragging against Jeno's, allowing you to feel the outline of his cock through layers of clothes. Jeno comes up for air, heavily panting with swollen lips, staring up at you with lust-drowned eyes.

You barely process the time you spend in the air as Jeno lifts you by your thighs from his lap onto the dining table.

"Has your appetite not been satiated enough Mr. Lee?" you lightheartedly ask, hooking your finger in the belt loop of his jeans, pulling him close, and locking your legs around his hips.

"Not if you think I'm skipping out on dessert," he softly grips your thigh, hungrily attacking your lips once more.

Jeno's lips leave yours, traveling lower. His teeth graze your neck before latching onto the sensitive spot just below your ear. "Jeno," You moan, craning your neck to give him better access while your hands thread through his hair.

Jeno continues his journey south, his tongue flicking out to taste the delicate skin of your collarbone. You shiver, the sensation both ticklish and tantalizing. His hands familiarize themselves with your body, roaming every inch. Cupping your breasts in his large hands, Jeno litters kisses across your chest, gently tugging the neckline of the dress down.

Jeno's eyes darken as he takes in the sight, kneading your flesh, thumbs circling your nipples until they tighten further.

"I want to make you feel good," he whispers into your hair.

"You are," you mewl, your head lulling back.

"You know there's more I could give you."

"What else do you want, Jen?"

"To taste you."

Your words are cut off by a gasp, feeling his warm wet mouth enclose around your areola. The sudden suction sends waves of pleasure coursing through your body. He alternates between sucking and nipping, his teeth sharp enough to elicit cries from you, not of pain but pleasure.

You squirm on the surface of the table, wanting desperately to close your legs and relieve the pressure built between your thighs. Jeno seems to sense this. A plea falls past your lips when Jeno's fingers press into your throbbing clit through your panties.

"I can already smell how wet you are, sweetness." his voice grounds you back to reality, "I need to hear you say you want it."

"I want it," you say breathlessly.

"What?" Jeno questions with a smirk.

"You—god, Jeno, I want you," you roll your hips into his hand, "Please," you couldn't care less about how pathetic of a whine your voice comes out as.

The sounds of dishes and silverware clattering and crashing to the floor don't phase you as you lay down on the table, Jeno silencing your impatient whines with his lips on yours. Jeno then lowers himself between your legs, slowly kissing his way up your inner thighs.

He wastes no more time, not even bothering to properly remove your underwear, only pulling them to the side before kitten-licking your clit. You practically melt, feeling his warm tongue on your pussy. Jeno weakly groans as you entirely overwhelm his senses. He pushes your knees to your chest, his hands on the back of your thighs to keep you right where he wants you.

"God, I can sit here and eat you all night," Jeno darkly chuckles, savoring your essence covering his lips.

Spit dribbles from Jeno's mouth onto your pussy, his saliva mixing with your arousal before he parts your folds with his tongue. He tugs your clit between his lips, making you loudly moan. The sound was music to Jeno's ears, and he'd give anything to hear it again. He buries his face into your cunt, lapping up all the sweet juices flowing into his tongue.

"Fuck—don't fucking stop," Your eyes roll back into your head, every nerve in your body sparking with ecstasy.

Your hand finds its way into Jeno's hair again, curling around the dark locks, gently tugging. He flattens his tongue, vigorously moving his head side to side. You already feel the knot in your lower stomach tightening, too enamored in the pleasure you're getting from Jeno's mouth alone.

His skilled tongue slivers down to your slit, weaseling inside of you. The wet muscle explores you intimately, curling against your soft walls. Jeno hums approvingly, feeling the way your pussy pulses around his tongue. The vibrations from his mouth reverberate through your entire body, ascending you higher to your climax.

Jeno pulls you closer to the edge of the table, laying his arms flat across the backs of your thighs to keep you from writhing any more than you already have been. He gently pulls the hood of your clit back, swirling and flicking his tongue against the bundle of nerves. You cry out, your legs attempting to push back against Jeno's arms. But his strength doesn't allow for it, and he continues to eat you out like you'd be the last meal the man ever has.

"God, you're too good at this."

"What makes you say that?" he chuckles between shallow breaths.

"You're gonna make me cum."

"Duh, that's the point," a drunken grin stretches across his face, "Come on, I can take it, baby," he tells you before going back to tonguing your clit.

"I don't know, can you?" you tease.

A half-smirk stretches Jeno's face when he finally decides to add his fingers to the mix. Your back arches away from the table, two of his digits stroking your sweet spot in a come hither motion while he tongues your clit.

You cum with a loud curse of Jeno's name. You whimper and writhe atop the dining table, your legs closing around Jeno's ears as he's too concerned with lapping up your juices.

With a whine, you tap Jeno's shoulder, getting him to let up before overstimulation overcomes you. Jeno sat back, licking his lips of remains of your slick, wiping the rest of his face with the back of his hand. He gently rubs your thighs, helping you sit up, one hand holding your waist, the other cupping your face. Jeno's lips reach yours with the taste of you still staining them.

The high of your orgasm simmers down, the euphoric fog lifting. You slip your hand under Jeno's shirt, sliding your hands up his torso until he pulls it off, mindlessly discarding it. Your eyes fall from his face to his defined muscles, subconsciously tugging your lip between your teeth.

You palm Jeno over his jeans, grinning when you feel his semi-hard length in your hand even through the various barriers of clothes.

"God, you're so fucking beautiful," he groans, slowly rocking his hips into your hand.

Jeno shivers, feeling your tongue run along the side of his neck before you nip his earlobe, "You're one to talk," you say.

"Oh? So has your opinion of me being the hottest Lycan to grace this earth changed now?" he teases.

Of course he heard that.

You poked your cheek with your tongue. "Eavesdropping, were we?" you tilt your head.

"Technically, no. I can just hear everything," Jeno says, "Was kinda hurt though, when you said I was alright."

You laugh, "I'm sorry, babe," you kiss the put on his lips, "But I only said that cause I knew you were listening," you pull him closer, your hands roaming the contours of his body, "I couldn't let you know then how badly I wanted you to fuck my brains out the second we met."

"That makes two of us," Jeno darkly laughs.

Jeno picks you up, barely giving you time to process how fast he moves over to the couch. His hands snake up your thighs, reaching beneath your dress to tear your underwear off your hips. All the while, your fingers swiftly undo Jeno's jeans, pushing them along with his underwear down far enough to let his cock spring free.

"I've barely even touched you. All this just from eating me out?"

A growl deeply reverberates in Jeno's throat when you pump his cock in your hand. You swirl your thumb around the head, smearing his precum around the pink tip.

"Fuck, yeah. You have no idea what you're doing to me."

"And what exactly am I doing, baby?" You tighten your fist around his dick, and a broken whine falls from his lips as you swivel your wrist.

"Fucking killing me," Jeno throws his head back against the couch, "I need you," he desperately claws at your dress.

"I'm right here."

"I need to feel you. Be inside you—for fuck's sake, please." you silence Jeno's pleas with a kiss.

You lift your hips, Jeno assisting you as you guide his cock to your entrance. Your head falls back as you fully sink down onto his cock, filling you to the hilt. Your pussy hugs his length in a vice grip, gently pulsing, slowly sucking him further in.

"Holy shit," Jeno says, his eyes fluttering shut. "you feel fucking amazing,"

You don't even realize that you've moved from the couch until you feel the hard surface of the refrigerator against your back. Your head lands against the door with a soft thud, feeling Jeno deeper inside you in this position. He sets a steady pace, each stroke hitting deeper than the last. You cling to him, your nails digging into his skin, leaving angry red streaks in their wake.

Your face twists into a flustered scowl, "Faster," you demand.

Jeno dryly laughs, "Uh ah, I want you to feel it all, feel what you're doing to me," he slowly draws his hips back before sinking back into your heat even slower, "S'all for you, princess," he rasps.

Jeno takes time to revel in the feeling of your warm wet walls snuggly hugging his cock like a perfect sleeve. You feel every inch of him leave you empty before filling you back up to the hilt. It's torturous how agonizingly slow he's fucking you, and your patience is wearing thin.

"Jeno, please," you cry.

Jeno complied, the corners of his lips turning upward as he drew his hips back before slamming back into you, making your toes curl. The room becomes blurs of motion in your peripheral. The world fades away, leaving only the two of you locked in this primal dance.

You don't notice Jeno's brought you to one of the bedrooms until you're placed on top of a vanity. The sound of the mirror banging against the wall is drowned out by your sensual moans.

Jeno then stops, slipping out of your heat. You shudder now feeling empty, biting your lip to silence a whine.

Jeno takes a step back, never taking his eyes off you. He pushes his jeans down his legs the rest of the way letting them pool at his feet along with his underwear.

The tension is stifling. You let your eyes fall from his face, drinking him in in his entirety. You watch Jeno take his cock into his hand and begin stroking his length.

"Get on the bed," he instructs.

Your lips curl into a mischievous smirk. You slip your dress over your head, throwing it to the floor along with Jeno's clothes.

Jeno already heard the words before they came out of your mouth, "Make me."

He rolls his eyes before throwing you over his shoulder and tossing you onto the bed. You land on the mattress with a soft bounce, pushing yourself up on your elbows. You teasingly turn away from Jeno to crawl your way up to the pillows but before you can get too far, Jeno grabs your ankle pulling you back to the edge of the bed.

You arch your hips into the air as Jeno trail his hand down your spine. Jeno runs his fingers between your folds, coating his fingers in your arousal. "God, look at how wet you are just for me, princess," Your jaw drops, feeling one, then two of Jeno's fingers curl against your walls. You push your hips back against his hand, your head falling to the sheets, muffling your low groans.

He parts your folds with the tip of his cock, teasing your clit. You see stars behind your lids, feeling the delicious stretch of your pussy accommodating his size. Jeno's fingernails leave crescent shape impressions on your ass as he spears into your drooling cunt.

Jeno cages you in beneath him with his arms. You feel his chest against your back every time your hips meet. Jeno grabs onto the headboard for leverage. His hips snapping back and forth with a speed and power that leaves you gasping for breath.

Each thrust is deeper than the last, filling you completely and making you feel utterly possessed.

Jeno snakes his arm around your waist, reaching between your thighs. His fingers quickly find your clit, pinching and rolling your bundle of nerves between them. You squirm in Jeno's arms, your body involuntarily twisting and jerking as you feel heat blooming in your abdomen.

Mindless blubber stumbles out of your lips as Jeno kisses the side of your neck.

"What was that, beautiful?"

"Good. So good—god, Jeno," your head falls back into his shoulder.

His arms flex, keeping you flush against his chest. Jeno lowly moans in your ear, feeling your walls flutter around his cock.

"You close, baby?"

"Yes m'so fucking close," you pant.

"Cum for me. Let me feel your pretty pussy cream my cock, sweetheart" he smiles, feeling the way your body reacts to his words.

Your body tenses, preparing for release, and Jeno senses it. With a deep grunt, he doubles down on his efforts, his thrusts growing nearly ferocious in their fervor.

Your fangs grows on the their own volition, triggered by the euphoria coursing through your veins.

"Jeno—fuck!"

Your hips rock along with Jeno's chasing the high of your orgasm. Your nails lightly scrape Jeno's scalp as he sinks his teeth into the juncture between your neck and shoulder.

Your nails dig into Jeno's forearms, just breaking the skin barely drawing blood. The wounds close just as fast as they appear. Jeno deeply grunts, his hips stuttering against yours as his cock twitches from the pain of your nails in his skin. He releases his load inside of you, pumping you full.

"Fuck," Jeno gently pants into your ear.

Jeno's damp skin clings to yours, regardless of the discomfort, you keep holding him close. The steady drum of his heart beating in his chest against your back soothes you out of your post orgasmic stupor.

Your pussy continues to gently flutter around his cock. Jeno pulls out before he's too overstimulated but he's quick to replace his cock with his hand as you slump against his chest. He swallows your moans, your thighs clenching around his hand.

"I'm gonna need a minute," he tells slowly circling your clit, "But my god, you're insatiable. I'd do anything to see those cute fangs again," he teases.

Your lips meet again, and Jeno sucks your bottom lips into his mouth, sinking his teeth in and drawing blood. He smears the blood on your lips before grabbing your jaw and initiating a passionate kiss, the taste of copper staining both of your lips.

"Don't start something you can't finish." You lick the few drops from Jeno's lip, quickly healing the wound before pulling away.

"Oh you know I'll do more than finish it."

SATURDAY [7:29 PM]

You and Jeno both hadn't gone to sleep until the sun had risen, so it's no surprise you find him still sound asleep beside you when your eyes first flutter open. You snuggle closer to Jeno, stealing his body heat as you find it comforting enough to put you back to sleep.

But the sound of a blaring alarm jolted you both out of bed. Jeno had no time to ask any questions as you had exited the room already, without a word. He follows your silent, hastened steps down the hall to the surveillance room.

"What is it?" Jeno asks, eyes bouncing around the screens as you search for what tripped the alarm.

Then, you see four escalades ascending the dirt road. Oh fuck.

[8:39 PM]

The words exchanged between the three men you're watching from afar fall on deaf ears even though you can hear them from this distance. Jeno glances over his father's shoulder at you before reverting his attention back to whatever words coming out of Draven's mouth.

"You two fucked, didn't you?" Tyra asks in a whisper.

"What makes you think that?" you snap your head toward her.

"You almost let your disappointment show when we pulled up," she answers, "Plus, I can smell him all over you."

"I'm not disappointed," you scoff, "I'm just thinking."

"About?"

"Not many other people knew about the meeting Draven set up with the Lees. Four of them are dead. The rest are all standing right here."

Tyra's eyes scan the vampires and lycans standing in the underbrush. "Are you saying it's someone here who's working with the humans?"

"It's only a theory. But how else could the humans have known when and where Jeno and I were meeting?"

"Have you shared this theory with your lycan lover?"

"No," you glare at her, "And he's not my lover."

"You don't think he's..."

You shake your head, "No, I don-"

"Think I'm what?" Jeno asks.

You know he was listening to the conversation, "Old enough to be in grown folks business," you tease.

"Haha," he deadpans.

You shoot Tyra a look, and she pretends to find something else to occupy herself with, leaving you and Jeno alone.

"I guess this is it," he sighs.

"No need to shed tears. You'll see me again," you say.

"If that's the case," Jeno slips a piece of paper into your hand, "Call when you start missing me," he smiles.

"As if," you laugh.

You watch Jeno retreat back to his father's car. He looks back at you one last time, shooting you a wink before ducking his head to climb into the vehicle.

"You seem to be extremely fond of the lycan," Draven says.

"He's not bad company," you reply.

"And an even better fu-" A cough interrupts Tyra as you elbow her in the ribs.

"Shall we go home?"

tagged <33: @peachesmilk @doyotint @jaehyunpeachyy @hyuckiegirlfriend @mrsjohnnysuh @binniesbabe @imwutim @marsoverthestars @everything-fine-n-peachy @yukisroom97 @stqrgr7

a/n: i’m so sorry this took so long i really thought it would be ready early october but life and shit yk. ty for reading. feedback is appreciated!!

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strawberrygyuuuu · 8 months ago

Text

𝐓𝐗𝐓 𝐃𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍𝐒

Genre —> Fluff

—> what it's like being in a relationship with them.

ˎˊ₊˚﹕﹒₊‧ ﹒₊˚𓂃・୨୧・ˎˊ₊˚﹕﹒₊‧ ﹒₊˚𓂃

YEONJUN

• He's so cutie

• loves having at least a hand on your thigh or around your waist bc it makes him feel at ease

• it's also js a natural reflex to just swing his arm around you or sum

• I can see him liking physical affection; or just any affection at that tbh

• he's just so opening loving especially to you so even if your love language isn't physically affectionate it's not a problem to him at all

• I believe his love language is a little bit of everything but more heavy on gift giving, quality time and physical affection.

• he loves gifting you stuff, he has the money and he may not always have the time so gifting you something he knows you'll like or heard you said you wanted is a way to show you that he still cares

• quality time because he knows y'all can't always be together because of his schedules and stuff but he tries

• anytime he can he'll send you a quick text to check up on you or a quick I love you text, maybe call for a few minutes or a quick visit on his lunch break to you

• physical affection because idk I feel like he's so cuddly, esp when he's sleepy or it's been a long day, a long time since he's seen you (like after tour for example).

• he lets you glam him up

• like...full on you can dress him how you like, makeup, heels, cute hair clips, babe have fun he's just happy to be there and that you're happy

• happy you = happy Junnie

• he's also a guy who would stare at you in such a lovesick way just in full adoration staring at you

SOOBIN

• soft giant

• yeah, he's tall asf but he's so gentle and sweet

• he was shy in the first month or two in the relationship before getting more comfortable with initiating things first n stuff

• if y'all were good friends before dating I think he'll be a little less shy, but not by much. Just a little more confidence

• he gives you piggyback rides, sometimes you don't have to ask like, if your feet hurt from walk or sum he'll gladly put you on his back or tell you to get in his bsck

• I think his love language is quality time and gift giving

• just being in the sa room as him doing your own thing, vibing

• or clinging to each other and talking, or just clinging to each other doing your own thing

• gift giving because I think he wants you to remember he loves you even if he can't always verbally tell you

• he's shy leave him alone😭

• he's trying to get better at words of affirmation tho so it's ok

• tucks you into bed and kisses your forehead, tell me I'm wrong you can't.

BEOMGYU

• It's definitely never boring

• the dates? Always spontaneous

• like..it can be a random afternoon on Tuesday and he'll just start getting ready and you have no choice but to follow him lol

• it could js be a walk, walking to nowhere in specific and if y'all find a cafe or a store you guys haven't seen before best believe you guys are going to explore that shit lol

• not all dates ofc, some are planned and romantic

• teases you a lot and is very playful but knows when to stop

• he doesn't over do it, usually just to get your attention tbh

• and this boy almost always wants your attention but it's okay bc you love him

• loves putting your hair in little ponytails on the top of your head on each side and literally pouts so much if you try and take it out or complain about it

• he giggles and is happy tho so ig it's worth it

• I think he sometimes try and wake up a little earlier just to spoil you; gifts, food, ur fav snacks and drinks and some new clothes or orders lots of stuff from online websites just to surprise you

• ofc there are moments where he knows to be serious or to calm down and enjoy the moment together w you

• he's the sweetest and is just v playful, pls be kind to him.

TAEHYUN

• he may seem cold or mean ig but he's so gentle and nice like he is the dream

• he's okay with physical affection but it's not his favorite, doesn't mean he'll complain or try and get you off if you initiate some from time to time though

• when sleeping, he will cuddle you because that's how he gets good sleep at night so enjoy it babes

• words of affirmation and quality time

• hes good at telling you words of affirmation, compliments and even tho he says I love you in special moments, he still tells you things to let you know he does love you, so much.

• I feel like quality time is obvious; I think he's more kept to himself but can be very fun and expressive at times

• spending time with you in the same room is something he likes doing

• it's comfort to him just by you being near him or beside him

• loves going places with you even if you've been there multiple times before. He just wants to be with you even if it's walking for ten minutes

• he writes cute & short notes to you before leaving for work usually because he leaves and wakes up earlier then you

• he DEF has a memory box of the things you've gifted him to cherish

• he adores you and loves you so so much, he trusts you and you're his first priority; over his work too.

• idk guys he's a keeper

HUENINGKAI

• soft giant pt.2

• memory box of things you've given him pt.2

• you guys gift each other plushies and stuffed animals bc it's like a cute little thing y'all do

• def keeps the stuffed animals/plushies you give him somewhere special separate from his plushies

• physical affection, words of affirmation

• he loves to cuddle, hold hands, kisses, hugs, literally anything he adores you

• he's so sweet and kind and gentle and soft ARUGH OTL

• he is the golden retriever bf

• really likes telling you how pretty you are or how he thinks your hair looks cute that day and expects you to also give him compliments

• actually, you better give him compliments and love him with all your heart bc he worships the ground you walk on so pls take good care of this big baby he's a sweet thang

• never had a bad word towards you or raises his voice at you

• I can see him sometimes trying to wrestle you a little but it's so gently it's just cute and y'all are a giggling mess

• JS LOVE THIS BOY PLS HE DESERVES THE WORLD

992 notes · View notes

wandasaura · 9 months ago

Text

LOVELORN AND NOBODY KNOWS

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

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

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

you are in love universe

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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