#throws this at you and then hides under blankets

[wonnienovels]

𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐎 𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐒𝐎𝐋𝐎 𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄

desc:

you and your boyfriend watch his not so family friendly performance together and he gets embarrassed

you’ve been dating bang chan, the leader and producer of a popular k-pop band, for over two years now. living together for a year and a half, your relationship has always felt perfect - full of laughter and mutual understanding. however, due to his status as an idol, you can’t go out in public much, except to private places, as dating openly in seoul would stir up too much attention. still, despite the risks, bang chan has always found a way to make it work.

lately, he’s been incredibly busy, helping the members prepare songs for the dominate tour, but you don’t mind. it’s his job, and you respect that. he’s also been teasing you about the song he wrote for the tour, refusing to share any details. no matter how much you beg, he insists it’ll be a surprise. unfortunately, when the concert came, you couldn’t attend due to an emergency meeting, and you missed his performance.

later that night, as you both lay in bed, bang chan shyly handed you his laptop to show you the video of his performance. he blushed throughout, laughing and making small squeaky sounds in embarrassment. then came the part where he took off his shirt on stage, and with lightning speed, he slammed the laptop shut.

“don’t say anything! don’t even keep watching it!”

he exclaimed, his face hidden behind his blanket. he laughed through his embarrassment, refusing to meet your gaze, clearly too shy to face your reaction.

“why not?”

you say, and bang chan peeked out from under the blanket, his eyes avoiding yours. he couldn’t believe you were making him go through with this.

“you know why…”

he mumbled, his voice a mixture of bashfulness and annoyance. he pulled the blanket tighter around himself, as if shielding himself from your reaction.

“no i don't, channie, what's wrong?”

he continued to look away, avoiding eye contact at all costs. his cheeks were flush with embarrassment, and he fidgeted awkwardly with the edge of the blanket.

“i just… it’s embarrassing, you know? taking my shirt off on stage and all…”

he let out a nervous laugh and quickly looked back down, hiding his flushed skin beneath the fabric. you let out a hearty laugh, and he pouts and throws a pillow at your face.

“hey, stop laughing! it’s not funny!”

he tries to sound annoyed, but a smile quirks at the corners of his mouth, betraying his true feelings. He pulls the blanket over his head completely, hiding from your amused expression.

“but you're so cute!”

bang chan lets out a half-groan, half-whine, still hiding under the blanket. he pokes his head out slightly, looking at you with mock seriousness.

“you’re supposed to be my supportive partner, not make fun of me!”

he can’t hold back a small smile, the corners of his mouth twitching with suppressed laughter.

he lets out an exaggerated huff and sits up in bed, crossing his arms defiantly. his gaze is playful as he tries to maintain his feigned seriousness.

“you’re being terrible, you know that?”

he narrows his eyes at you, but a grin betrays his true feelings. despite his best efforts, he can’t help but feel amused by your reaction.

“i'm gonna play the video, chan~”

you say, your fingers hovering over the laptop. bang chan's eyes widen at your threat, his expression shifting to one of panic.

he shakes his head vehemently, hiding deeper under the blankets.

“you wouldn't dare. i swear, if you touch that laptop, i'll-”

you open the laptop and click play.

he lets out a yelp, his face going red as he desperately tries to stop you. he attempts to crawl over to the laptop but is weighed down by the blankets, struggling to free himself.

“no, please, don't- stop, y/n!!”

he frantically pleads with you, his voice filled with an amusing mix of embarrassment and dread. but you weren't gonna budge.

after the video, bang chan sinks back into the pillows, letting out a mix of a groan and a sigh. his cheeks still slightly pink from embarrassment, he avoids your gaze, feeling vulnerable after having his embarrassing moment played out for you.

“happy now?”

he asks, his voice slightly petulant. despite his reluctant acceptance, he can't completely hide the mortification he feels.

you nod and smile, still holding onto his laptop. he pouts and turns his head away, but his act is shattered by a small smile that sneaks onto his face.

“you're insufferable, you know that?”

he mutters, feigning annoyance but unable to keep the hint of humor out of his voice. despite the embarrassment, he finds himself secretly enjoying your playfulness and affectionate teasing.

you kiss his lips, and mumble,

“i know..”

he melts into the kiss, his body immediately reacting to your touch. the initial embarrassment seems to fade away, replaced by a familiar, comforting warmth. he pulls you closer, his hands finding their way to your waist as he deepens the kiss, his eyelids fluttering shut.

“you know i'm still mad at you for playing that video when i told you not to, right?”

[maegalkarven]

Dark Urge!character: guys something is seriously wrong! I crave violence and delight in bloodshed. It's driving me mad

Companions: lol we all have our demons, your deep dark secret is not that special

Dark Urge!Character:...

That Night With Alfira: *happens*

Companions: WTF HOW COULD YOU??? THIS IS SO SICK

Dark Urge!Character: *looks into camera like in the office*

[buckyalpine]

18+ Minors dni. Buckys innocent neighbor who bakes him cookies and muffins just cause. The girl next door who has the coziest apartment he's ever been in. Shelves filled with books along with plenty of comfy blankets decorating the couches. Bucky has his own place right across but home is with her (even if she doesn't know it yet).

She's the type of girl he's going to take his time with, asking her out on a date, just coffee and a walk in the park. Nothing more than a kiss on her cheek at the end of the night. Another date. Dinner. Another kiss to her other cheek. He wouldn't dare rush anything, especially not someone as soft and sweet as her.

He feels like such a dirty little pervert when he thinks about her afterwards when he's alone in bed, all the blood in his body rushing south, and fuck he's so hard. He tries to ignore it, he didn't want to do something so debauched by thinking of her like that, he even tries to think about his grocery list, laundry, he'd probably wash his arm later, it would probably be fine in the dishwasher-

Nothing worked.

He groans, shuffling and kicking his sweats off, hissing when his hand goes down to tug at his aching cock, relief flooding his veins at the sensation. He lets his mind wander to how adorable she'd be, the way he'd take her apart in the most gentle way. Lay her against the pillows while he holds those soft thighs apart, giving her the most feather light suckles on that perfect clit, basking in all the sounds she'd make. He strokes himself faster thinking about the way he'd get her ready to take all of him. How he'd make it so good for her-shit he was going to blow-maybe if he was lucky, one day she'd let him put his cock in her mou-

"Fuck!!" Bucky threw his head back, spurts of cum shooting from his sensitive head, his post orgasm haze leaving him feeling like a filthy old man. She were here making him baked treats and he was jerking his dick off like a sick fuck.

Then the night finally comes. Bucky is ready to cuddle and nothing else but he's thrown off because never in his wildest fantasies did he expect this.

She is the girl who sends him reeling the first time he takes her clothes off one by one revealing dark ink on her back and hips. He has to suppress a growl, his eyes growing wide at the scantily clad lace that covers her body.

"Like what you see, Sergeant?" she practically purrs in his ear while he lets his han ghost over her bare skin, his chest heaving when his eyes fall to her perfect breasts, hints of silver peeking from under her lingerie, there was no way-

"Can I?" He asks breathlessly, his hand reaching behind to unclasp the bra, those pretty pierced nipples begging to be sucked.

Bucky who turns into a fucking menace, his entire world flipping upside down when she grinds down on his crotch not hiding exactly what she needs from him. He doesn't even have the ability to hide how feral he is, letting all his inhibitions slip.

-

"My little bunny's a slut, fuck, c'mere" He grabs you and tosses you over his shoulder, hauling you over to his bedroom like an untamed beast, tossing you onto his bed with no remorse. You're in nothing but your panties which he rips right off, your thighs squeezing together at the way he stalks over to you, his hungry eyes raking up and down your body without an ounce of shame. He tugs his sweats down to reveal his leaky cock, stroking it at the edge of his bed after tossing his shirt off.

"See this baby? Been fuckin' stroking and touching myself like a fuckin' teenager because of you-" He throws off his pants before climbing onto the bed and kneeling between your thighs, spreading them apart with his knees, "-and you've been here lookin' like God damn sin under those cute little sweaters"

He flicks his cockhead against your clit, humming at the clear beads of his arousal that drip onto your cunt.

"Fuck James, need more, pl-"

"Nuh uh, what was that you called me earlier, sweets?" He lets out a dark chuckle, the veins in his cock throbbing as he tightly holds the base, waiting to hear it again.

"Sergeant" you whine with mischief in your eyes and Bucky is a goner. He'll taste you later and most definitely feed you his cock another day but right now he wants to be nowhere else other than your pussy. He wants to watch you take every bit of him, rolling over to lay on his back while you straddle him, his length slotted against your cunt. He holds it up for you with a cocky look on his face, moaning when his tip breeches your tight pussy, your walls gripping his swollen, pink head.

"That's just the tip baby, c'mon, sit on it, wanna put all of my dick in you, that's it, good girl-shittt"

"Oh fuccckk,s'big" You moan feeling the stretch as you sink all the way down, panting and staying still while you adjust to his size.

"That's it bunny, that's it, ride me, ride your Sergeant" He grabs you by the hips, guiding you to grind down on him, making you feel his entire cock in your stomach. "You're a slut for big dick aren't you baby, acting all cute and shy when all you really wanted was the winter soldier's cock"

Bucky wasn't even sure where all the filth spewing from his mouth was even coming from but he couldn't stop.

"S'that it bunny? Say it baby, tell me how much you wanted my fat cock in you"

"Wanted it! F-cuk Sergeant, wanted your cock s-o-so bad!!"

"Fuck yes!!" His feet plant to meet your bounces, his hips thrusting up, slamming his entire length into you. "M'close, fuck bunny, gonna cum already, I can't hold it-

He doesn't have time to be embarrassed. You feel to good. He rubs your clit needing you to cum all over him so he can let go.

"Please, cum all over Sergeants cock baby, give it to me, be a good girl n'cum, c'mon, cum on my dick, yes, oh fuck yes I can feel it-milk it, shit touch my balls-"

You nearly collapse as your orgasm starts to wash over you, his sponge head hitting the most sensitive parts against your walls while he toys with your clit. His voice is muffled as you start to feel waves of pleasure consume you but you head just enough to reach behind, rubbing his heavy, so full of cum ba-

"FUUUCCCCKKK" He grabs you and wraps his arms around your body while he relentlessly thrusts up, biting down on your shoulder while he lets out the sluttiest, loudest moan with 0 remorse. It feels too good and he's sure the neighbors can hear but honestly, everyone should know how amazing it feels.

-

"I got you pretty baby" Bucky coos as you nuzzle into the crook of his neck, a shiver running through you while you float in bliss. Bucky pulls the covers up, deciding to cuddle up with you for a bit before running a shower, his previous demeanor replaced with the far less debauched version of him.

Anyway, just an idea. Also, it's past my bedtime.

[bi-writes]

hiiiii I'm new to your page but i would like to ask you what would've happened if simon mail-ordered a bride?

mail-order bride

you stare down at the address on the card, blinking as you reread the house number and look back up at the cottage in front of you. the numbers match, but you just need a few more minutes before you knock on the door.

you're not holding too many things. you have one suitcase with the entirety of your belongings at one side, the cat carrier sitting on top of it. on the other side, you hold a bundle of papers. your immigration papers, all shiny and new, your birth certificate, and your new british passport.

when you look back down, you swallow as you read over your name. it's odd, to see something new in the section labeled SURNAME.

Riley.

you've never met him. this isn't legal, it can't be, to have all of these things. he must be someone important. someone they value. or maybe, they are just too afraid to say no to him.

the front door opens, and you freeze on the spot as you see someone duck their head to step outside. they're wearing a mask, covering their entire face except for their dark eyes, but it's hitched up over his nose as he holds an unlit cigarette between his lips.

he stares as he sees you at the end of the steps. he frowns, looking you up and down.

"weren't supposed ta be 'ere for a few weeks."

your eyes water a little, but you only manage a shrug.

"i-i..." you meet his eyes. "i-i couldn't stay there any longer. i didn't have anywhere else to go."

he tucks the cigarette back behind his ear, slipping the mask off. it reveals a tousled mess of short blonde hair and a terribly scarred face. his eyes dart to the little carrier sitting next to you when he hears a soft meow coming from it.

"said no pets."

your lip trembles.

"please," you whisper, and his lip twitches as he fights off a scowl. you imagine he must not have much practice in hiding his emotions. he comes down the steps anyways, coming closer, and you pick up the carrier as he snatches the suitcase off the pavement, making his way back inside. you follow him, naturally.

when you close the door behind you, you're surprised at how quaint it all is. nice brick fireplace, a soft carpet (no shoes allowed is what he snapped at you), and wonderfully furnished to make the place cozy, warm, lived-in. there's throw blankets and accent pillows. there's pictures on the walls, paintings, yellow corner lights to give everything a soft glow. the kitchen is beautiful, with lovely colored tile and wooden cutting boards, a drip-coffee setup in the corner and worn cookbooks stacked neatly by a stainless steel toaster. there's herbs growing in little pots sitting on the windowsill above the sink, and there's a cast iron pot decoratively resting on the stove.

it's spick-span clean. there's no specks of dust or splatters left over from bacon grease. there's papers pinned to the fridge, lists to remind him to buy whole milk and sliced bread and call about the internet bill being charged twice again.

you set the carrier down on the couch, unzipping the top. a little curious black head pokes out of it, and you reach in and pick the cat up under its belly and drop it onto the floor. immediately, the cat spreads its front paws, claws sticking out as they begin to knead the carpet and use it as a personal scratcher, the prick, prick, prick sound enough to draw the giant man out of the bedroom with a hard frown on his face.

he points at the thing and shakes his head.

"keep tha' thing off the fawkin' counter," he snaps at you. he purses his lips when he sees you still standing there, afraid to even move. he comes closer, the cat scurrying off, and he yanks your coat and scarf off, going to the hang them up by the door. "can unpack tomorrow. need t'make somethin' ta eat."

you move immediately towards the kitchen, hoping he keeps a stocked fridge, but he puts out a big hand and stops you, stepping in front of you.

"the fuck are y'doin'?" he asks, and you blink up at him.

"you said to make dinner...s-sir?"

he tilts his head to the side, narrowing his eyes.

"y'listen t'this," he murmurs. "women don't lift a fuckin' finger in this house, y'hear?"

you nod, and he reaches up and palms your throat, cupping your jaw.

"and my wife doesn't call me sir," he mutters. "it's simon."

you soften a little. "i-i'm sorry, simon."

"don't apologize," he grits his teeth. "did nothin' wrong."

when a fresh set of tears comes down your face, he wipes them away with ease, calloused thumb swiping over your cheeks and quieting you. he puts something into your hands, a velvet box that he must've gotten when he went to put your suitcase away.

"y'r a riley now, yeah?" he murmurs, and you tilt your head at an angle, and your foreheads brush together when he bends low to speak to you. "act like it."

you lean up on your toes (he's so fucking tall), and you kiss him softly beside his mouth. when he moves his head, your lips brush against each other, but he pulls back to make his way to the kitchen. you hear the gas stove light up, and a few minutes later, there's a familiar smell of onions hitting hot olive oil.

you take a seat on the couch, smiling to yourself, wiping your eyes as you curl up there. you flip open the box, sighing shakily when you see the rectangular diamond and matching gold wedding band. when simon comes back in to give you a mug of tea, you take it with your left hand, and his eyes flicker when he notices the new jewelry there, so pretty, so new.

mine.

when he pads back into the kitchen, the cat blinks up at him slowly, green eyes bright as they sit on the counter.

simon walks past it, saying nothing at all.

[lymtw]

Wet Dreams

Thinking of Toji being pulled out of sleep because he hears you whimpering beside him in your sleep. Once he wakes up, he can't get back to resting until he figures out what's going on with you. Maybe you're having a bad dream. After all, you are clutching your pillow pretty tight...

He puts a hand on your shoulder, ready to shake you. That is until you let out a moan. There's a visible 'huh' on his face as he keeps watching you to make sure he didn't mishear. His heart drops to his stomach when you sigh, your hips languidly rolling against the blanket that is bundled between your legs. Now he knows for sure that he didn't mishear you.

He chuckles quietly, his hand going up to caress your face. "Doll," he whispers, gently brushing wisps of hair away from your face. You don't respond. You stopped moving, and presumably went back to sleep. The problem is, Toji's awake now. Yes, he loves you and would guard you for years while you slumber, but right now you got him all bricked up. He can't sleep like this, but also, what's more embarrassing than getting himself off when the prettiest princess is right next to him.

"Baby," he coos, scooting closer to you. He pushes the blanket out of the way so that he can put one of your legs over his hip.

"You okay, Toji?" You mumble, slowly opening your eyes.

"Course, doll, but you're dreaming pretty loudly." He grins, throwing an arm over your waist. "Wanna talk about it?"

"What are you talking about?" You groan, still sleepy.

"Did you cum?"

Your heart stops at the question, and though your body is still in its sleepy daze, Toji could feel the tension surface.

"Could hear you moaning and whimpering like someone was giving it to you good. Was it me?"

"Toji...," you whine. "Who else would it be? Can we go back to sleep, now?"

"Hold on. Just wanna know if you finished. You know I wouldn't leave you hanging." His hands snake under your shirt.

"I did...n't. But i'm more tired than horny, Toji. Don't worry about it."

"You won't have to do a thing. All you have to do... is lay there... and look pretty for me." His lips ghost yours as his fingers snap the strap of your bra against your skin. "How's that sound, hm? Want me to ease you back into sleep?"

You can see the trace of a grin on his face. His eyes look so dark, and this rattles something deep in your core.

"Fine. Just... not too rough, please."

"Yes, ma'am," he says, trying to hold back the full wolfy grin on his face. He makes haste of taking his clothes off and when he sees you trying to do the same, he takes over and pulls your shorts and underwear off. He's above you in an instant, wedging his hips between your legs, allowing his tip to nudge through your slick folds. "Dream me really did a number on you, huh? You're so wet."

"He was a freak." You giggle, watching Toji adjust himself.

"Not freakier than me, right?" He asks, kissing up your stomach until he reaches your chest.

"He's definitely competition for you, but you're number one, baby."

Toji gives you a deadpan expression, luring a laugh from you. "So damn lucky you asked me to go easy on you." He looks at that tired smile on your face, instantly remembering his mission. "Gonna put it in, 'kay ma?"

"Okay," you murmur, reaching your hands up to caress his face.

You both go quiet for a second as he brings his cock towards your entrance. Even the gentlest of Toji's movements are hard to take sometimes, but you've always been praised by him for handling those movements so well every time. You try to mute the gasp that comes with Toji stretching you, but your discomfort is not something you can easily hide from him.

"S'all good, princess," he mumbles into your neck. He can feel you trembling as he pushes in further. "Always so good for me. You can take it, huh?"

You squeak out a little 'fuck' and are instantly soothed by Toji. "I know, I know, my pretty girl. Don't cry." He looks into your twinkling eyes and kisses away the crystals gliding down your face. You're somewhat distracted by the affectionate butterfly kisses Toji scatters on your face. He uses this as a chance to sheathe the rest of himself inside you. Another inch stuffed into you, another kiss to your lips. He can see the light way your nose scrunches, instantly catching you with a coo of "that's it, mama. That's all of it."

You shudder, sighing as you push your head back into the pillow. "Fuck. Your dick is cursed, baby."

"You love it, anyway, little masochist." He smirks.

"What's a good fuck without some pain?" You can see the way his face lights up, almost like he considered that a green light to fuck you like an animal. "Ah, no," you intervene so quickly. "You're easing me back to sleep."

"Right." He stifles a laugh. "Let's get on that then."

It doesn't usually go this way with Toji. He likes to show off his strength against you, be it breaking your back when you arch over the crushing orgasms he gives you or holding you down when you try to squirm away from his overstimulating touch.

Somehow you got him to slow down for you this time, and the prize is you getting to mumble sweet nothings to him. His reward is that he gets to stay in gentle control. You tell him you love him and he responds with a little "mhm". You tell him you wouldn't go anywhere without telling him first but he doesn't read into the code in your message, so he smiles and says "you'd get lost, and I'd have to find you." You tell him you're glad you get to sleep next to him and he chuckles in your ear, responding with a non-threating "dick's got you all emotional, baby?"

You laugh it off, not taking it to heart. "Just love being close like this with you is all."

It goes quiet for a minute, only your little breaths and Toji's pants filling the silence. Toji can hear your heartbeat as he rocks both of you. Your heels dig into his lower back, your nails dragging across his shoulder blades. "Fuck, princess. I'll bust if you keep scratchin' me up like that." His lips ghost the column of your neck before latching on and working a mark into your skin. Your thighs squeeze against his waist as he grazes your sweet spot repeatedly.

Toji knows you well enough to know that that's a tell-tale sign that you're about to cum, so he makes his touch overwhelming. His hands run up your body until he reaches your chest, where he teases your nipples until your stomach starts quivering and you start breathing shakily. He massages your hips with his thumbs, while pressing kisses to your jaw with little murmurs of, "show me how good you feel" and "come on, baby."

"Fuck, princess..." he groans, almost reaching his own peak. "I wanna hear you. None of that covering your mouth or biting your tongue shit."

You folded so quickly after that, gasping like the air was sucked out of your lungs. "G-Go- Oh god! Fuck, Toji... I-"

"Mhm... fuck yeah, baby. T-That's good, so fuckin' good," he groans, rutting into you as he spews out his load. You put your hands up to his chest, pushing weakly as the overstimulation starts kicking in. He pants, trying to catch his breath as he slows to a halt. "So good for me, mama," he mumbles into your neck, his cock still buried in your soaked cunt. "No one deserves you." He presses a few more kisses onto your shoulder before getting off of you. Your eyes shut for seconds at a time every time you blink, meaning you could knock out any moment now. Any other day, the sight of cum drooling out of your pussy would incite another round, but Toji said he would fuck you to sleep, and he kept his word. The session concluded and now he gets to clean you up while you rest.

[honey-tongued-devil]

HEYY

i saw the vi x chubby user and as a chubby girl I NEED more of the girlies x chubby user. please 🙀

[Arcane preference (girlies)] with a chubby s/o

I made you wait so long for nothing, I’m sorry if it’s short, BUT I haven’t forgotten about you!

Jinx:

- Forget that thing called “personal space.”

- If you want to sleep with her, you’ll be the little spoon, and she’ll even throw herself on top of you. She loves feeling human warmth, and with a partner with more body mass, it’s not painful to stay in a long embrace because no (or almost no) bones are attacking her.

- She pinches your love handles and thighs, then bursts out laughing. It's done with tenderness, she loves it to bits, and it’s something extremely rare in Zaun.

- If you can't find anything your size, she'll sew it for you from leftover fabric, or by beating up a passerby to steal their clothes. Either way, you don’t have to worry.

- If you even try to say the words "lose weight," she’ll furrow her brow, deeply offended: you’re hers, and if you lose mass, she has less of you for herself, which means you’re trying to take something from her.

- Which means for the following week, she’ll do everything to make you eat more, terrified that you might lose weight.

Vi:

- What’s the point of being so strong if not to lift you into her arms effortlessly?

- She makes you stay on her back while doing push-ups, carries you to the bedroom, and holds you on her lap on the couch.

- She’s a fighter, not a coward. If she can’t lift you, it’s not that you weigh too much, but that she’s too weak. And within three days, she’ll make sure she fixes this shortcoming.

- But it never actually happens. Vi never misses an opportunity to show you how strong she is and how special you are.

- When you talk under the blankets, she often loses herself playing with your soft spots, almost as if she’s relaxing.

Caytlin:

- She sits on your lap, but if you want, you can sit on her without any issues.

- She loves your body to bits, and if you try to hide it, she might put on a little show just to take off your shirt and enjoy what you were hiding, like your belly.

- Clothes aren’t a problem; she’ll have them made so that they not only fit you but also highlight your best features.

- No jokes here—when you go out together, she wants the world to see how proud she is of her partner and how attractive they are. So, she takes care of your preparation herself, even stealing a kiss here and there, but letting you choose what you want to wear.

Mel:

- She has a personal tailor who makes coordinated outfits for every occasion. She can’t let you look bad, and she wouldn’t want to, so she personally ensures every detail reflects you.

- She knows what you like and dislike, so she can correct the sketches herself, so when the clothes arrive, they’ll be a complete surprise.

- When you're in public, she likes to sit on your lap, if the occasion is casual enough to allow it. Otherwise, she’ll leave subtle lipstick marks on you before leaving, just enough to discreetly remind people you’re with her.

- She likes being the little spoon, feeling protected and vulnerable at least in one place, even though, subconsciously, she changes position while she sleeps. But in any case, feeling your softness against her gives her comfort.

Sevika:

- Think you’re big? Be more humble.

- She lifts you like you’re a little bunny, carries you around on her shoulder, takes you to bed in her arms, and constantly pulls you onto her lap, always keeping one hand on your waist.

- She loves skin-to-skin contact, and she’s strong enough to lift you completely onto her shoulders, with your back against the wall, and hold you like that until her ‘hunger’ passes (or until you can’t take it anymore).

- She’s still terrified of hurting you, so she always keeps you on the side of her good arm, so she doesn’t damage your body with her prosthetic limb.

- When you’re resting, she pulls you completely up onto her, no matter how tall or heavy you are, constantly reminding you that she’s big and strong enough.

[entirelytoooobsessed]

needy!drunk!gojo satoru x gn reader-based off this post

synopsis: gojo is a lightweight, vowed to sobriety to keep whatever bit of shame he has left to his name. but he really can't help but take a few shots when he sees you doing the same.

warnings: sub gojo, gn dom reader, both reader and gojo are drunk, gojo's a lightweight, handjob, semi-public sex, he cries-like a lot, he also had nipple piercings bc i couldn't help myself, reader's kinda a hoe, feelings, think that's it

The warm press of hands against your hips is what makes you gasp. The soft touch of lips traced over your throat is what makes your head spin.

What a delightful feeling. 

What a human desire. 

“Touch me.” 

The room spins around you, the warm feeling of being held making you sigh, leaning into it. The scent of him, the greedy claiming of his presence in your mind. So selfish. Of him not to think of the effect that this has on you. To not care about the war going on in your mind. 

“Touch me, please?” A whine this time. A meek sound, spilling from his lips, making your body light up in return. 

“Satoru,” He practically purrs at his name on your lips. Pathetic. How easily riled up he is. How easily you’re able to make his knees feel weak. How much he loves the sound of your lips forming his name.

“Mmmm, say it again.”His nose sweeps delicately over your neck, working over a heavy sigh as he tries not to get drunk on the smell of your shampoo. Or more drunk than he already is, that is. 

“Your name?” You mutter slowly. 

“Yeah….” His words have been gradually slurring over the span of the night, with the amount of shots he’s taken, with the amount of drinks he’s had. With the inches of space between you closing until there’s nothing between you but the thin layer of clothing that does nothing to hide the bulge he shamelessly presses against you.

Even so, you know that he's always been far beyond measures of shame, but this is a whole new level, the way he continues to press his body impossibly closer to yours, his broad chest against your shoulders, his hips canting against you. 

You’ve always hated how he’s been taller than you, his incessant teasing when he throws you over his shoulder as you yell and pound on his back. He takes advantage of it all too often.

You don’t mind now.

“Why, Satoru?” Maybe you’re cruel for the teasing, for liking your friend’s reactions all too much. Shivering, nearly violently, throbbing against your lower back. 

He whines, “Sounds so…-so much better when you say it. Makes me wanna just…”

His breath is heavy with the scent of alcohol and you’re still not entirely sure how Shoko and Suguru managed to get him to break his vow of sobriety. Not when you’d seen him turning them down for the first bit of the night.

The next time you saw him he was getting dragged along by you, gulping down whatever liquids you shoved into his hands. 

With his feverish hands tracing up your body and his sinful hips pressing against yours. Muttering about how he wanted you and needed you, whispering about things he'd never have said in the harsh reality of day, but was that not the beauty of getting intoxicated beyond belief?

“Hmm? Just what?” 

He simpers, “Wan’ you to touch me, play with me, like I’m just a toy for you~” He grinds slowly and you wish you could kiss him. Kiss him until he’s breathless and red and can’t remember his own name. Dazed and dizzy and muttering gibberish while loosely gripping onto you. 

You don’t think if you’d even have to kiss him to do that right now, but the taste of his perfectly pink lips would just be an added pleasure to this delectable mix.

But you shouldn’t. And you won’t.

Not because he’s your friend and this will surely be crossing some unspoken line.

Or because it’ll throw off the axis of your entire friend group. You'd never let that stop you before. And you wouldn’t let something like that stop you now. Not when you've clumsily pressed your lips to Shoko’s, high out of your mind and hidden under the blanket of dark nights. Or when you let your hands wander along the lengths of Suguru’s skin, promising to make him feel things he’d never felt before. 

Not because Satoru Gojo is one of your best friends.

But because Satoru Gojo is currently drunk and so are you. And despite the fact that you’re practically drowning in the warmth of alcohol and all that is Satoru Gojo, you want whatever you do with him to mean something-be something. Not just a clumsy night of drunken mistakes and hazy flashes, not something you’ll forget in the morning and agree to never speak of again.

He’s too…important for you to treat him like that. And you’re too selfish to let anything you do to him to mean anything but the fact that he would be yours. But he’s not yours. And you’re not his. And all this thinking is only making a steady ache build behind your temples.

You sigh, twisting around in his arms. Blue eyes blinking back at you, slowly searching over yours and fuck, his lips are so kissable. Pink and plump, trapped between his too white teeth.

“Let’s get you back to Shoko and Suguru, they’ll take you home and make sure you don’t kill yourself.” You’re not entirely sure where they went or why they’ve left the two of you behind, all alone where they'd know neither of you were in the right mind to make good choices.

 “No,” He shakes his head, white hair tossing, ruffled and mussed from a night of clinging to you like this. Far too close for comfort though you still couldn’t bring yourself to pry him off.  “No, n-no, don’t wan’you  to leave…” 

You begin to tug him off either way. He’s not sane enough to make decisions for himself and you don’t think you are either. “C’mon baby, let’s go find your friends.”

He shudders and grips your hand, refusing to move an inch. Tears pool in his eyes and your jaw hardens.

You sigh. You didn’t know why you thought this was a fight you’d win either way. It was a losing game trying to argue with Satoru. His lips wobble and you can feel your resolve withering away by the second. Tearing down every single defence you put up around, being ripped away by him and his stupid tears as if they were paper. 

“Don’t leave.” He whispers and he looks pathetic but you know you’ll give in to him if he asks you to. “Don’t leave me…please.”

You cup his cheek and he purrs, melting into the touch as if he were a cat, pushing into you for more attention. Basking in your attention as you sweep his tears away with your thumb, letting him close his eyes and pull you into the soft cushioning of a booth. 

You feel heady or maybe it’s the alcohol talking. More tears roll down his cheeks, tracking along the slopes of his flushed face. Crystalline and sacred and you realize with a twist in the pit of your stomach that it’s arousing.

The sight of him. His sweat-soaked skin and his eyes big and glassy. And the fragile mask he’s worked so hard to keep up deteriorating beneath your very eyes, each tear breaking and cracking apart the image of the powerful man he claims to be.

A crumpled facade of a God into a something more, something divine and corrupt, something vulnerable and weak and so very human in your arms, falling apart by a mere touch.

Maybe you’re more fucked up than you realized. Maybe you’re just horny. Maybe because it’s him. And he’s Satoru Gojo and everything about him is perfect. Powerful. Transcendent. A God against humans, finally falling apart like this, before you, ready to fall to his knees. Perhaps he was always meant to.

“Don’t wanna be alone…don’t wanna…ngh~” 

His hips thrust up, a whiny gasp working past his lips. He pants as if he’s run a marathon and you want to do such delectably sinful things to him and you’re sure you could do them all and more and he’d only beg and plead for more.

Perhaps…

“Kiss me.”

Your heart thuds in your chest, you wonder if he can hear with how loud it is. “Satoru,”

He whines and grinds and you moan. And it’s a losing battle.

“Shut up,” he insists, hand cupping the back of your head, running his fingers through your hair, almost obsessively. “Shut up and just kiss me.”

“You know we can’t. You-“

“I, am perfectly fine.” His words are a pant, a plea, whispered with a kind of reverence of a worshipper to a god. “Just kiss me, fuck me. Use me,” white eyelashes flutter, blue looking all the bluer rimmed with red and filled with tears. “Use me until you’re bored of me, until there’s nothing left-i don’t care.” He breathes, desperate and pleading and looking like he’s ready to get down on his damn knees on the dirty sticky floor. “Just-please.”

A losing fucking battle. 

Maybe it always was. Trying to keep your hands off him, now, you realized it was like setting a treat on a dogs nose and telling them to wait. A crazy amount self control with the eventual prize just in sight. 

All you can think as you cup his cheeks, flushed and wet from tears, warm against your hands is how fucking pretty he is. How you want him more than you think you’ve ever wanted anything. “Fuck, Satoru,” you mutter and he moans deep and appreciatively and then you’re pulling him in to slide your lips against his.

 And now all you can think about is how much of a dumbass you are for not doing this sooner.

He tastes like alcohol and cigarettes-when he had one you don’t know but you do know that it’s the most intoxicating mix you’ve ever encountered. You feel like you’re floating, high off his taste and his moans; like he’s a drug and you’re the addict, injecting him straight into the vein. 

It's far from elegant and he’s not perfect at it in the way you’d expect from a man as beautiful as him-godhood hasn’t blessed him in every aspect. But he’s desperate and he's eager to take everything you give, mewling against your lips. 

He’s so needy and it's crazy the way it sends you into a sort of reverie. His hands gripping your hips hard, like he’s afraid you’ll slip away if he lets go, like he’s hoping you’re real and not a apparition of drunken hysteria. He pulls you closer, as if you could get close enough that no one could find where you ended and he started, that you might be able to meld into one.

You’d be lying if you said you didn’t feel the same sentiment. If you didn’t try your hardest to do the exact same; nails pressing into his skin, making him whine as you tilted his head back and slipped your tongue into his mouth, exploring, feeling, taking, using. 

Just like he told you to do.

He vibrates against you, nearly shaking with choked noises. He mutters soundless words, each and every one swallowed by you as soon as they’re spoken. Pleas and prayers, worships and praises. 

You’d show him what real ascension felt like.

You probably should be embarrassed, or at the very least shameful to be putting on such a show in front of what you know are watching eyes. But you know that Gojo is far past shame at this point and you're too enamoured by the beauty that is Satoru Gojo clinging to you like he’s about to break.

To be honest, you can't find it in yourself to give a shit about any of them. About anything but him, focusing your attention on devouring him whole as he shatters, ready to catch every piece as they fall into your waiting hands. No matter if the shards rip apart your skin and leave you a bloody mangled mess.

You break away first, fighting a smile at his whine as you pull away from him, panting. 

He looks unravelled, messy. His usual flirty facade lost to pleasure. His watery eyes and heartbroken whines gone as well. Overwhelmed by swollen lips and gasps to make up for lost air. A blush like he’s just realized where he is, burying his face into your neck to hide from the probing eyes. To whisper, "You're too good at that, you know?.”

You bark a laugh and he nuzzles into your skin. 

And then you’re redirecting him to your lips again.

In a flurry of hands and lips, messy steps and you’re clumsily stumbling into the bathroom. Quickly, Satoru is shoved against the door, fingers fumbling for the lock.

Your lips find his neck, fluttering a barrage of open-mouthed kisses over the heated skin, dragging your tongue along his thrumming heartbeat. 

He whines and he begs, muttering nonsense that makes it to your ears but not to your head as you hum against him. Slender fingers knit through your hair, holding you close to him, pleading for you to never leave him.

“Touch me, touch me, touch me.” He repeats, slurred and slow, his eyes drooped shut, his voice husky with want, with lust and everything he’s been just barely repressing all this time.

But you've only ever been a slave to his desires.

So you respond in tenfold, nipping and sucking, leaving evidence that you've been here, staking a claim that doesn't exist and maybe never will but for tonight maybe you can play pretend.

Because he keens when your teeth sink into his skin and his back arches, pressing evidence of his wanton yearnings against you like you might devour him whole.

Like he wants you to.

He quieter when he whispers something that could change everything. “Love me?”

Your heart pounds in your chest but you’d never turn him down. 

Fingers deftly undo the buttons on his tight-fitting button up, revealing porcelain-like skin underneath. His nipples are hard and pink and fucking pierced. 

He gasps when you touch them, pinching them between your thumb and forefinger.

And you've never been particularly mean but you can make an exception for the God in front of you, leaving him to tortuous touches all while he throbs and thrusts into nothing but the fabric of his too-tight pants, whining from the stimulation that's all too little.

He's been begging for this all night. Whispering dirty words like a little tease, like a shameless slut.

He got you all riled up and for that you think that he should take his own share of teasing.

For retribution, for your own piece of mind and the pleasure it is to watch him squirm against the wall, eyes squeezed shut and tearstained and begging in small breathless whimpers barely over a whisper.

But you've never been able to resist him long, not then, not now and not ever.

Your hand finally reaches for his waistband, his body shivering with the feeling of your fingers dipping onto hot, untouched skin.

But he stops you.

His hand, large and pale landing over your own in a quick moment of lucidity.

His voice emerged, a whisper of uncertainty and longing. "Y-You'll take care of me?"

You met his vulnerability with a promise because you could never leave him with any less. "Yes," your words a whispered caress, a undying oath in itself, a vow that you'd take beyond this in whatever may happen.

Your lips brush over his ear, his eyes squeezing shut as your hand wraps around him, dragging a ruinous moan from deep in his throat.

"I promise, I will."

And your hand is wrapping around him, hot and wet and hard, all for you. Just for you. And his head is turned off, just sensations and feeling and you.

Just you.

"F-fuck, yes, please," so broken, fragile almost as ironic as it is. "Yes, pl-please, feels so go-good."

He doesn't last long and you don't know if it's from all the teasing you've administered or from how long he's been worked up for.

But you rather like the thought of him being sensitive enough that your voice and a few strokes is enough to bring him to the edge.

To have him pulsing in your hand while his arms wrap around your shoulders, blunt nails scraping into you skin as his hips thrust with reckless abandon.

His body quivering with pleasure as your hand forms a loose hole for him to fuck into, your thumb playing with the sensitive head of his dick.

"Please, please I need it, need it so bad," And he has no right sounding this good, looking this good while fucking into your hand like a goddamn dog. "Need it more than anything."

He always has been one for dramatics.

His head falls back against the wall, throat bobbing with the moan deep in his throat, fuck how the marks of your teeth stand out on the pale skin of his neck. Your lips permanent on his body for now, forever maybe if he'll let you keep replacing them.

"Fuck, Satoru," You free hand threads through his head, pushing his lips to meet yours, messy and slopping as he arches against you, hips thrusting erratically to match your pace. Keening when you nip at him, teeth tugging at his bottom lip, nails scratching at his scalp sending tingles down every part of his body.

He breaks away with a gasp and a cry when and only when he absolutely has to, eyes shining and chest heaving with breaths to fill his burning lungs.

And he's crying. And he's beautiful.

More beautiful than anyone or anything you've ever seen in your life.

"Shit, I'm close, m' so fuckin' close-!"

You’re half out of your mind and you couldn’t feel more sane. Like this was meant to happen-like he was meant to be yours. 

"Don' stop, please don't stop," he gasps, like you'd ever think about it, like you'd could even if you wanted to.

“Satoru,” And he shakes.

“Satoru,” And he sobs.

“Satoru,” And he breaks, head falling back as if in prayer, a finger pushing his chin up, clashing against a higher power he didn't think possible.

“My one and only Satoru.” Soft and sweet and just for him and only him. And he’s gone.

Ropes of cum spurt out, rope after rope, covering your hand and the floor. Covering his thighs and his stomach in a mess.

Everything feels fuzzy and his cheeks are pink. A stupid grin crossing his face as he melts, boneless in your arms. "I love you." He mutters, distantly, foggily.

Perhaps somewhere beneath the haze he thinks that maybe you've said the same back. But he isn't quite sure anymore. He needs to be sure.

Slowly, he's lowered onto the floor into a sitting position. The tile is cold against his bare skin but it's okay because you're still caressing him, holding his face in your hand, thumb wiping at his tears.

"You love me right?"

You leave for moment and a whines at the loss of you pressed against him. Even if it's only for a few seconds he feels lonely and empty without your touch.

But then you're back and you're wiping him down with a wet towel, cleaning off his skin so gently, as if he's made of glass of porcelain, like he something to be cherished and taken care of.

"Hey pretty boy, you good?" He recognizes your voice even throughout the cloud in his mind. He nods and you smile and he's melting all over again.

"Do you love me?"

You roll your eyes and for an awful second he thinks that maybe you're going to say no. But then you're pushing the hair off his forehead and kissing him so fucking gently he thinks he'll cry.

"I do love you Satoru."

And his heart is bursting-he swears it is, it's beating so fast and so hard he's absolutely sure that you can hear it and that the quiet laughs escaping your pretty lips is because you can tell how dumbly in love with you he is.

But that doesn't matter.

Because right now he's normal person and you're a normal person and nothing else will matter but the fact that he's your's now.

"I love you too, y'know?" He mumbles.

You kiss him again, and again, and again. On his forehead and his temples, his cheeks and the tip of his nose and each of his eyelids. You kiss everywhere on his face until his lips are pouted out and he lets out a little whine of frustration.

And then you kiss his lips. Barely a peck, too fast and short for his taste but he doesn't have time to complain as you pull him off the floor.

“C’mon pretty boy, let me bring you home.”

“Mmm,” He doesn’t move, boneless against you. “Will you fuck me again?”

You laugh, soft. “Like I’d be able to resist you.”

[moonlight-prose]

I saw that prompt list you reblogged and so if you’re looking for logan ideas i really liked:

10) finding their partner’s sex toy/toys and making them play with it in front of them

Love your fics btw too!!! 💜💜

hunger

a/n: oh my brain went to mush at this one. like actively i've lost brain cells and am currently scrounging to find more. this is basically me being a horny bitch for this man. (possibly cause i'm ovulating). but that's okay. we're all here to do the exact same thing!

summary: things are set into motion the second logan opens your drawer. suddenly you find yourself the center of a show with only one audience member.

word count: 1.7k+

pairing: logan howlett x f!reader

warnings: EXPLICIT SO MINORS DNI, mutual masturbation, overstimulation, hints at oral (f receiving), cigar smoking, voyeurism, dirty talk, he's so filthy i blushed writing this.

Accidental was far from the word he'd use to describe the current situation. He'd rather say it was intentional. At least that's what it felt like when you sent him to your drawer for a pair of clean boxers you stole from him in the first few weeks of dating. Logan was used to the act. Finding his flannels strewn throughout your closet—his leather jacket draped across the foot of your bed like a fancy throw blanket.

He felt it before he saw it. The soft silicone feel of something small—an uninteresting object he normally would have overlooked. He pushed it out of the way at first, mistaking it entirely for the little portable charger you usually keep by the bed.

Only for it to roll to the side, the button hitting the drawer. A loud buzz drew his attention close within seconds. His hand grasping the small vibrator and flicking it off with a smirk. A look he wore when the choice to fuck you into the mattress solidified in his mind.

"Hey what's taking so long?" You stepped out of the bathroom wrapped in a towel—water droplets streaming off your naked body, forming a small puddle on the hardwood floors of your shared bedroom.

He close his fist around the small device when he stood, holding the clothes you were waiting for. Logan watched you smile, reach for his hand, and stop short as his other palm opened—revealing the black little toy you only kept for emergencies.

For nights when he was called on a mission that might land them in deep waters for days on end. You never minded—it was part of the job after all—but telling Logan that you fucked yourself in your spare time to ease the thoughts of him that plagues you...wasn't an easy conversation to have. Yet there it was. Staring directly at you; taunting you with the knowledge that he found it before you could locate a better hiding spot.

"Got somethin' to tell me bub?"

Your mouth dried at the sight of his grin—nostrils flaring as your scent sharpened in the air. Thicker than before; the tell tale sign that you weren't angry or irritated. But interested in where he might take this.

Before you could snatch it from his hands, he tossed the clothes back into the still open drawer. His smile on deepening at the sight of your swallow—the steady thrum of your heart now a quick flutter under your chest. There was no hiding how you felt with him. Not when he was so in tune with your body it nearly scared you.

He could smell the pool of slick that began to form in between your clenched thighs. The sharp breath you sucked in giving him enough confirmation to keep going. You wanted this—him. And though he could never understand why, he rarely questioned it.

So he nodded towards the bed, dragging the chair you kept at your desk over to sit a foot away from where you were perched. Your hand still clutching the towel and eyes stuck on the vibrator in his hold.

Logan lowered himself with a sigh—legs spread and body relaxed as your eyes trailed down his stomach to the thick expanse of his thighs. Last night you were perched on one, reduced to a whiny moaning mess as he dragged you along the rough denim. Watching you work yourself into a high that left you immobile.

His head tilted, gaze dragging down your body, tongue swiping out to wet his bottom lip. "You aren't gonna need the towel bub," he rasped.

"I don't know what we're doing."

"Don't you trust me?" You nodded quicker than you expected. "Then drop it and spread those pretty legs for your old man."

A soft whimper barely legible above your gasp echoed in the room. Logan heard it as if you pressed it directly to his ear. You scooted back on the bed, the towel now forgotten and dropped to the floor. He shifted at the sight of your feet pushed against the soft comforter, your cunt on full display for him to view.

"There we go," he murmured.

Your hand slipped down, sliding through your slick for barely a second before he was clicking his tongue. "That's not what I want."

"B-but you said-"

"I said spread 'em. Not touch your pretty little clit."

"Logan," you breathed, fighting the pull that demanded you find some sort of relief. Even if that came in the form of your own touch.

He merely lounged in the chair, smiling at how you battled with yourself in order to be good for him. Oh how he loved the sight of your brows pulled together—need eating away at the very core of your body. If he was a better man he'd let you choose what to do.

He'd follow your lead.

But that remained something he never excelled at.

"Don't worry. She'll get the attention she needs." He leaned over you, placing the familiar device between your breasts—a kiss quickly snuck against your nipple that peaked under the wet heat of his mouth. "I'm real interested in how you use this sweetheart. Show me?"

The breath escaped you with a punch to your stomach as he settled back in his previous spot. You glanced at him—heat spilling beneath your cheeks—and felt a wave of slick drip down to the bed at the sight of him pulling a cigar free. He cut the end off, stuck it between his teeth, and flicked the lighter on with practiced ease.

This was a show and he remained the only audience member.

"Go on," he mumbled, smoke unfurling past his lips. "Be a good girl."

With a shaky breath, you gingerly picked up the vibrator and turned it on. This was second nature to you now. Laying in bed with your legs spread as you listened to the buzzing sound that would bring you your desired orgasm. You'd been here before. You would no doubt be here again.

Only this time Logan paid attention to every minuscule movement. He clung to the way you slid your hand down and pressed the end of it to the very top of your clit. Almost as if you were the best fucking program he had the privilege to watch.

Instead of the rush of sweaty embarrassment you almost expected. You were greeted with a boost of pride at the sound of his harsh groan. The chair creaking under his weight as he shuffled to find some relief for his growing cock.

"How's it feel bub?" he breathed, inhaling another drag from his cigar.

You sighed, high pitched and needy. "Good."

"Yeah?" He shifted again when you slid the vibrator through the lips of your cunt, a moan spilling past your parted lips. "Fuck. You normally take your time with it?"

Nodding, you dragged it back up to your clit, teasing yourself with small circles. "F-Feels better like this."

That familiar tug in your gut began to grow the longer you held it against yourself, building quicker than before. You knew it was on account of him watching you. Licking his lips and white knuckling his cigar to keep from sliding his tongue through your slick. You had half a mind to beg him. To see if you could get him to break.

The minute you slipped it down further and plunged it into your tight walls was enough for him. He snapped with a feral grunt. His hands working the belt buckle of his jeans—a whisper of his zipper being tugged down—before his cock sprang free. The tip red and shiny with precum.

You moaned at the sight, legs trembling as you pumped the vibrator clumsily into your cunt. "Touch yourself," you gasped, stomach going taut. "Please. Need to see you baby."

"Fuck sweetheart. Gonna make me cum like a fuckin' teenager." He spit loudly into his palm, slicking up his cock with a heady moan.

"P-Pretty," you slurred.

"Look whose talkin'," he huffed. The cigar now clamped between his teeth.

The intensity of his gaze only grew when you replaced the device with two of your fingers. Rapidly working them in tandem with the buzzing on your swollen clit. Sparks shot down your spine, heat clamping tight around your stomach. What time you thought remained now worked its way to an eviscerating crescendo.

"Your creamin' around your fingers bub," he grunted, the wet slap of his hand blending with the echo of your cunt. "Want to lick you clean after this."

Your walls fluttered, heart leaping to your throat. "Can I suck your cock?"

A ragged moan filled the empty spaces that lay between. "Can't say no to you."

"Logan," you mewled. "'M gonna-"

He snarled, abruptly sitting forward, hand still working his cock in rapid strokes. "C'mon. Cum for me. Give me a show."

The string holding you together broke in two, flooding your body with bliss and turning your vision blurry. His name was a broken cry torn from your throat—hips canting up into your touch as you pushed the vibrator harder against your clit. Until the pleasure began to seep into pain. A whimper echoed in the room when you pulled away, legs falling to dangle off the bed—body now entirely spent.

The soft press of his lips against your knee jolted you slightly; the nerves under your skin still sensitive. He dropped to the floor, eyes latched onto the way your entrance fluttered, cum now forming a mess between your thighs.

"Made such a pretty mess for me bub."

You sighed, a smile pulling at the corners of your lips. "You like it?"

Wet open mouth kisses trailed along your inner thigh, his nose pressed to the curls above your center. "I fuckin' love it," he sighed, inhaling your heady scent with a groan.

"It's yours."

You gasped when his tongue slid along your cunt, thumbs spreading you to reach every fucking inch. "Yes it is." He pressed a kiss to each lip, sucking them into his mouth as if he was kissing you. "All fuckin' mine."

[youreyeson1y]

˗ˏˋ fuzzy ‎ socks and ‎ ‎ ‎ warm ‎ ‎covers ‎ ‎✶ˎˊ˗

pairing: bang chan x gn! reader ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ cw: tooth rotting domestic fluff, est. relationship + try not to cringe because love is ew :(‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ note: is this all because of the selcas chan shared? yes, yes it is. (also wanted to post something before I go on hiatus cause of exams lol) ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ word count: ‎ ‎0.96k ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ enjoy ! ‎ ‎ bang chan masterlist.

snuggled under three layers of blankets on the couch, you felt perfectly content.

your hands absentmindedly fiddled with the empty cup in your lap, the faint warmth from your drink still clinging to it. a quiet smile played on your lips face as you watched chan throw his hands up dramatically, fully immersed in the story.

“and the host was so shocked when hyunjin started doing that move in the middle of the stage, because who knew there’s another song called sticky?”

“wait,” you cackled, already excited for the clips to emerge. “so you’re telling me that he danced to kiss of life’s sticky in the reality show? damn, can’t believe i missed that.”

chan laughs, the sound filling the room with warmth. a movie was playing on the tv, but you found your boyfriend’s endless stories more entertaining.

sitting on the plush carpet in front of you, chan was wearing a black tank top and grey sweatpants, while you had more layers on than you could count. the room became quiet for a moment, but the hairs on your arms stood up as you saw a mischievous smirk appear on chan’s face.

“no, nope,” you warned him as he stood up, a playful sparkle in his eyes, and you instinctively pull the blankets tighter around yourself. “don’t you dare, christopher bahng.”

“don’t be so mean, ” he pouts, his knees on either side of yours. “do you want your boyfriend to freeze to death out here?”

“well, there’s always the option for sweaters and jackets… or even a tshirt;” you mumble, your face growing red as your boyfriend’s nose touches yours, a soft smile playing on his lips.

he gently takes the cup from your hands and places it on the centre table without breaking eye contact, putting you in a trance. as you let your guard down and lean in for a gentle kiss, you jump in your seat with a yelp as his freezing fingers touches your waist under the covers.

the cold sensation sends chills down your spine as you shiver, goosebumps covering your body.

“christopher,” you whine, finally giving a reaction as he melts into your body. “i hate you.” you shiver as he wraps his arms around you, engulfing you in a chilly but warm embrace as he settles under the covers.

despite yourself, you lean into his embrace instinctively.

“i love you too,” he giggles, dimples on full display, as he hugs you tighter. “and why would i need a sweater when i have you to warm me up just as fine?”

you blush, whatever resolve you had melting away.

“whatever,” chan chuckled as he saw you half heartedly roll your eyes. “i’m wearing the socks you gave me, so i guess you might as well warm up your toes too.” you looked at anything but him in an attempt to appear nonchalant.

his laugh made you feel warmer than the blankets ever could.

chan shifted, tucking himself into your side as you both shifted into a more comfortable position. his legs intertwined with yours, rubbing over your fuzzy socks. his arms wrapped around your waist, adding a comforting weight.

the room grew silent, the only sound being your steady breathing and the soft voice coming from the television.

“oy,” you nudge him after making sure he wasn't asleep. “what happens next?”

“huh? next to what?”

“i dunno. i just want to hear you yap.”

the way chan’s face immediately became red was almost comical. he tried hiding his face in the crook of your neck, making him seem more adorable.

“stop…” he whined, his demeanor changing from his usual cool charm to a fumbling mess.

“what? i just love listening to my boyfriend yap, is that a crime?”

“i mean,” his voice came out small. “i’ve been boring you with my stories all evening today. aren't you sick of hearing my voice already?”

he tried to laugh it off, but let out a shriek as you playfully swatted his arm.

“hey!” you pinched his arm for extra emphasis. “don't ever say that okay? listening to you talk is literally the favourite part of my day.”

“you're just saying that,” chan huffed, hugging you tighter in an attempt to hide his flushed face.

“no, bubba, it's true. i love hearing your voice and i love how you literally light up when you talk about something you find funny or are looking forward to.

plus, it's funny seeing you get worked up over the silliest things sometimes; like that one time jeongin told you your beanie didn't go with your outfit.”

if it was possible to fall even more in love with your boyfriend, it was in this moment, watching him completely melt at your words.

“you remember that?” he whispered. it was so endearing seeing him turn into an adorable mess in front of you.

“of course, i remember that! i remember everything you tell me. and that's cause i’m genuinely invested in all your stories.” you grin.

“you're like my personal podcast. and the best part is i get to keep you all to myself.”

chan adorably wriggled his whole body with shyness, unable to handle the attention. you laughed, reaching out to hold his hands which were covering his face.

“have i told you how much i love you today?” he finally said as he peeked from between his fingers.

“well, not enough.” you tease, and he leans in for a kiss.

he didn't need to tell you how much he loved you, because you felt it in the way the biting cold outside faded into insignificance. it wasn’t the fuzzy socks or the layers of blankets keeping you warm, but rather the undeniable warmth of his love wrapping around you.

“i love you.”

“i love you, too.”

a/n: sappy ending yes but it's currently 1:25AM and it's the best i can do rn rahh (also was this fic just me promoting the propaganda that chan is the biggest yapper ever (chan's room, bubble, yt live hello???) maybe. but was this 100% because i am a professional listener and could listen to him yap all day every day? yes.

please reblog and leave comments, they truly mean the world !

bang chan masterlist.

[orphicmeliora]

You were sure you had dreamed it all.

Thin streaks of sunlight peaked into the room, the signs of a rising sun apparent through the glass windows. You were laying in the middle of a huge, empty bed, the sheets felt like spider-silk brushing against your skin, your hair splayed out like dark waves over the pillow.

You're body ached in places you couldn't even name.

You traced the tips of your fingers over your body, naked in all its glory—the blankets having been kicked off long since and you were in no hurry to cover up. You felt it all like a phantom ache that refused to be banished from your subconscious.

You remembered the way his hands, like vipers pulled you close in an embrace of sin. Laying you down on the bed, undressing you one article of clothing at a time like unwrapping a gift so preciously adorned, while you panted puffs of air, so restless in the face of your desires.

Your hands ghosted over your stomach and remembered the way he had pushed down on it when you tried to sit up and undress him with your clumsy limbs. Remembered his warning glance and the things it did to your head. So impatient, he had clicked his tongue. Your efforts to hasten things only resulted in him growing more languid in his ministrations.

When your fingers brushed your chest, you remembered the way his eyes had darkened, his tongue peaking out of his mouth and you longed to catch it with yours, as your chest rose and fell with each heavy breath. Remembered how his fingers worked you up to a high so addicting and then as his mouth, a warm cavern on a chilly night, joined the fray—and how it all came loose. The embarrassed whine that left your lips as you tried to hide your face but he wouldn't have that—he wanted to watch everything.

As your fingers traced up your neck, more memories flood into your mind. The smirk on those sinful lips when you'd throw your head back seeking reprieve from the intense waves of your pleasure and he'd cease the opening you left—opportunist man that he is—and descend on your neck, teeth and tongue lathering you in marks with all the restraint of a starved man before a hot meal. And you'd have no choice but to grasp his hair to drag him up and look him in the eyes. Your man was weak for eye contact and crumbled easily.

The pads of your fingers caressed your face and you remembered the way his breath had brushed your skin as he whispered filthy promises in your ears. Remembered his hands caressing and grabbing as they traveled down your body. The gasps and moan he tore out of you and simultaneously stole as he claimed your lips.

You rubbed your thighs together and remembered the other wicked things he'd done to you.

You were so sure you had dreamed it all, but you remembered it all too vividly for it to be just a dream. Maybe the longing had made you sick.

With a lovesick smile you turned on your side, unwilling to get out of bed just yet—

You ceased all movements. Heart pounding wildly against your ribs.

There he sat leaning forward on the chair, legs spread and elbows planted on his knees. His shirt was unbuttoned all the way leaving his skin bare for your eyes to feast upon but you could hardly focus on that when he was looking at you like that.

The hungry look in his eyes set your senses ablaze. His smile—akin to a predator's—sent shivers down your spine. As if all that action just mere hours ago wasn't enough to satisfy him. Perhaps, just perhaps, he had longed for this too.

You immediately missed the protection of the blanket on your skin.

"Is the show over?" He asked smugly, the air around him turned thick with complacency. Your skin flushed red as you recalled how you were feeling yourself up shamelessly right in front of him!

He stood up, striding toward the bed. His rakish intentions clear in his eyes. Feeling shy under his hungry gaze, you tried to clutch a pillow close to yourself. Keyword being tried.

In two quick motions, he had your wrists pinned above your head with one hand and the other gripped your hip. He pressed his body down to yours leaving nary a distance between you two.

"Didn't I tell you," he whispered against your lips, his voice a raspy and deep baritone symphony, "never to hide yourself from me?"

You whined something incoherent back to him.

He chuckled, the sound shooting straight to your core. His hand on your hip traced a path ever so slowly down your thighs and to your knees where he tapped twice.

"Spread your legs, love." His tone sounded reprimanding yet his eyes gleamed with perverse satisfaction. "Seems like I'd have to remind you all over again in great detail this time."

How could you ever refuse him when he looked at you like that?

[chrisbesitos]

MORE 21 YR CHRIS W 19 YR READER PLEASE 🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏 IM BEGGINGGGGG

chris helps his girlfriend when she feels displaced with his friends.

"This party was sooo good!" A girl said, the triplets were throwing a party in their house. Y/N is not a big fan of parties, but she agreed to go. "Do you remember, Chris?"

"Yeah, it was good." He replied hugging his girlfriend's shoulder, she wasn't talking too much, she was just listening to them.

"Have you been there, Y/N? I don't remember seeing you there, in reality I don't remember anything."

"Oh, no. I don't go to parties actually." Y/N gave a small smile, looking down and laying her head on Chris' shoulder. The girl laughed.

"Sorry, I forgot you're a kid." Then everyone laughed, Y/N felt embarrassed.

"Stop with this." Chris said, holding his girl harder.

"Sorry, Chris, it's just hard to have a conversation with someone who was at high school until last year."

Y/N was looking at her hands, playing with her fingers. She wasn't comfortable, actually parties made her feel like that, since she's not a big fan of crowded places with loud noises and people she doesn't know. But she agreed to go out with Chris, because she wanted to be a good girlfriend.

Chris seems mad, while Y/N was distracted with her fingers and own thoughts, Chris made his friends change the subject and stop talking about his girlfriend. But the damage was already made.

"I need to go to the bathroom, I'll be right back." She whispered to Chris, he nodded and gave a peck on her lips.

Instead of going to the bathroom, Y/N made her way downstairs, going to Chris' room. She was tired of them. Y/N closed the door and sat in the bed, she tugged of her shoes and tucked her legs under the blanket.

It didn't take too much for Chris to realize she wouldn't come back, so he dismissed his friends and made his way to his room. He opened the door and looked at his girlfriend on the bed, Chris made a pouty on his lip while he got in. Y/N cleaned the tears on her face and Chris sighed.

"You're not having fun, right? I'm sorry, I should've known." Chris said while he sat in the corner of the bed, Y/N shake her shoulders keep looking down.

She was upset and wasn't going to hide this from Chris, because it was his friend's fault. He tugged his snickers out, he sat by her side and pulled her legs to his lap. Chris rubbed her tights, feeling really sorry about what happened.

"I should've known they would be idiots, I don't know why I still hang out with them."

"I'm not a big fan of parties either, I was uncomfortable and I should've said no."

"It's not your fault, you know that." Chris cleaned her tears on her cheeks, he pulled her to sit on his lap. "I should've taken care of you better, I'm really sorry."

"Don't be, I'm okay." She smiled, hugging Chris' neck and then she gave a kiss on his lips. "You don't have to stay here with me. I'll be okay."

"You really think I'm going to trade a good time with my princess to stay with drunk people?"

Chris stayed in his room with Y/N by the rest of the night, they watched her comfort movie. He knows sometimes she feels displaced by her age, but he always finds a way to make her feel better and loved.

i don't know why i write an angst blurb, but i was in the mood. plus being a girl with social anxiety, i wish he makes me feel comfortable when i feel displaced in crowded places 😞

Tags: @lizzymacdonald06 @deliciousluminaryanchor @lushjunkie @sweetreliever @watercolorskyy

join my taglist!

[moonlightwritingf1]

Worthy of You | LN4

❄️ summary ━━━━━━━ Lando rented a cabin in France for Christmas but couldn’t enjoy it when Y/N suddenly left. Desperate, he flew back to England, where she admitted overhearing his doubts about being worthy of her. Lando confessed his love, and Y/N revealed she felt the same but feared rejection.

❄️ pairing ━━━━━━━ Lando Norris x she!reader

❄️ word count ━━━━━━━ 4k

The cabin was nothing short of breathtaking. Nestled in the heart of the French Alps, it seemed straight out of a holiday movie—a sprawling chalet with rustic charm. The exterior was draped in a blanket of snow, the wooden beams of the house warmly contrasting the wintery landscape. Snow-dusted balconies framed sweeping views of the towering peaks outside, their jagged lines stark against the pale sky. Inside, the atmosphere was nothing less than luxurious: vaulted ceilings with exposed timber, a massive stone fireplace crackling with warmth, and furniture covered in soft faux fur throws. Twinkling fairy lights danced around the banisters, casting a soft glow, while the scent of fresh pine from the enormous Christmas tree filled the air, welcoming everyone into its festive embrace.

Lando had rented the cabin for the week leading up to Christmas, hoping to host a cozy retreat for his closest friends. It was supposed to be the perfect escape—a time to unwind, relax, and create new memories. But as he stood in the living room, with the warmth of the fire behind him and an unshakable emptiness in his chest, he felt anything but at ease.

Pacing back and forth, phone in hand, Lando’s jaw was tight with frustration. Y/N had left earlier that day, telling him that she needed to return to London for some "urgent" matter. The words didn’t sit right with him. Something was off, and he couldn’t quite shake the nagging feeling that she was hiding the real reason.

"She just... left," he muttered under his breath, running a hand through his messy curls.

"You’re going to wear a hole in the floor," Max commented from the couch, watching Lando with an amused, yet concerned, expression.

Lando didn’t respond, his eyes glued to his phone. He had already called Y/N three times and sent two messages, all without any reply. Max raised an eyebrow, leaning against the kitchen counter with a beer in hand.

"Still no word from her?" Max asked.

Lando shook his head, glancing at the phone in his hand as if it might magically ring with her name. "No. Nothing. She just said she had to leave and that was it."

Max frowned, clearly puzzled. "That doesn’t sound like her."

"Exactly," Lando agreed, frustration lacing his voice. "She was fine this morning—excited, helping decorate the tree and everything. Then out of nowhere, she says she has to go. It’s like she couldn’t wait to leave." He tossed his phone onto the coffee table with a huff, running a hand through his curls again.

Max shrugged, his expression neutral. "Maybe you should wait until she gets back to you instead of spiraling. She’s probably just busy."

But Lando wasn’t convinced. "I can’t wait. Something’s wrong. She looked at me before she left—like there was something she wanted to say but couldn’t. It’s not like her to just leave like that."

Max raised a brow, offering a pointed look. "You sure you didn’t say or do something to upset her?"

Lando scowled, shaking his head. "I didn’t even get a chance to talk to her. One minute everything’s fine, and the next... she’s gone."

Max didn’t press further. Instead, he simply sighed. "Well, maybe give her space. She’ll reach out when she’s ready."

But Lando couldn’t do that. He needed answers now. Without another word, he slipped out of the kitchen and onto the balcony, the chill of the evening air biting at his skin despite his thick coat. Leaning against the railing, he gazed out at the snow-covered mountains, his mind racing with unanswered questions. Y/N had been acting strange lately—distant, quieter than usual. The sudden departure was the final straw. Something didn’t add up.

Meanwhile, hundreds of miles away, Y/N sat alone in her London flat, the flickering lights from her modest Christmas tree casting a soft, warm glow in the otherwise quiet room. Outside, the city streets were slick with rain, the muted sounds of traffic filling the silence. Her fingers curled around a steaming mug of tea, but she barely noticed the warmth.

Her phone sat on the coffee table, buzzing intermittently with Lando’s name lighting up the screen. Each time, her heart clenched, and each time, she couldn’t bring herself to pick it up.

She sipped her tea, trying to quiet the storm in her mind, but the memory of that morning wouldn’t leave her. She had been standing in the hallway of the cabin, a box of ornaments in her arms, when she overheard Lando and Max talking in the living room. The words they spoke felt like a punch to her gut.

"I don’t know what to do, mate," Lando’s voice was low, tense.

"What are you talking about?" Max had asked, clearly confused.

"It’s Y/N," Lando admitted, and hearing her name made Y/N freeze, her breath catching in her throat.

"What about her?"

Lando sighed deeply, and Y/N could almost hear the weight of his thoughts. "I care about her more than I should. More than I’ve ever cared about anyone. But I can’t tell her. She’d probably just laugh in my face or—worse—pity me."

Y/N’s heart twisted painfully in her chest.

"You really think she’d react like that?" Max asked, his voice skeptical.

‘’Wouldn’t you?" Lando responded bitterly. "She's amazing, Max. She deserves someone who's not... me. Someone who doesn’t come with all the problems of my life. I don’t know... it’s just complicated.’’

Y/N couldn’t bear it anymore. Hearing Lando doubt himself, and by extension, their connection, had hurt her more than she could explain. She dropped the box of ornaments where it stood and rushed to her room to pack her things, not bothering to tell anyone why she was leaving.

Now, in the solitude of her flat, Y/N replayed his words over and over, trying to make sense of her own emotions. Did she love him? She realized that the answer had been in her heart for months, but she’d been too afraid to face it.

Her phone buzzed again, pulling her from her thoughts. Lando’s name flashed across the screen once more. This time, her thumb hovered over the screen, hesitating before she tapped it.

She read his message: Please, Y/N. Just let me know you’re okay.

Her heart ached as the words weighed heavily on her. She typed a reply but paused, her fingers trembling. After a deep breath, she hit send:

Y/N: I’m fine. I just needed some time to think.

On the other end, Lando’s phone buzzed once more, and he lunged for it, his heart leaping when he saw her name appear.

"She responded," he said quietly to Max, who gave him an encouraging nod.

Lando opened the message and read it quickly, his brow furrowing with confusion. "She’s fine?" he muttered, feeling unconvinced by her words.

Max leaned over to glance at the screen. "Sounds like she just needs some space."

But Lando wasn’t satisfied. He typed back immediately: Think about what? Did I do something to upset you? Please, Y/N, talk to me.

Back in London, Y/N stared at his message, her chest tightening. She didn’t want to hurt him, but she wasn’t ready to confront her feelings—his or hers. She needed more time.

Lando opened his mouth to argue, but then stopped short. He had spent months hiding his feelings for Y/N, terrified of scaring her off, of ruining the connection they shared. But now, her sudden departure was making him question everything.

"Do you think she knows?" he asked quietly, his voice barely above a whisper.

Max frowned. "Knows what?"

"How I feel about her," Lando admitted, his gaze shifting away as if he were ashamed.

Max studied him for a moment before shrugging. "If she does, she hasn’t said anything to me. But maybe that’s the problem—you’ve been waiting for her to figure it out instead of telling her."

Lando’s jaw tightened at the suggestion. "And if I tell her and she doesn’t feel the same?"

"Then at least you’ll know," Max said simply. "But honestly, I think you’re underestimating her."

The next day, Lando couldn’t take it anymore. The cabin, with all its festive decorations and roaring fire, felt too big and too empty without Y/N. With no more time to waste, he grabbed his coat and car keys.

"Where are you going?" Max asked, looking up from his phone.

"London," Lando replied with quiet determination.

It was late afternoon by the time Lando arrived at Y/N’s flat. The crisp winter air stung his skin as he knocked on her door, nervous energy bubbling inside him.

The door opened, and there she was—her expression a mix of surprise and apprehension.

"Lando," she said softly, her voice tinged with uncertainty.

"You didn’t answer my calls," he said, his voice tight with emotion. "I needed to see you. I needed to know why you left."

She stepped aside, allowing him to enter. The warmth of her flat enveloped him, the scent of cinnamon and pine filling the air. They stood in the living room, the silence between them thick with unspoken words.

"Y/N, talk to me," Lando urged. "Did I do something? Did I say something?"

Her eyes filled with tears, and her voice trembled as she finally spoke. "I heard you, Lando. At the cabin, talking to Max."

His heart sank. "You... heard me?"

She nodded, her voice breaking. "You said you cared about me but couldn’t tell me because you thought I wouldn’t feel the same. That it was too complicated."

Lando closed his eyes in anguish. "Y/N, I didn’t mean for you to hear that."

"But you meant it," she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper.

He stepped closer, his expression softening as he reached for her hands. "Of course I meant it. I care about you more than you know. But I didn’t say anything because I thought you’d pity me—or worse, push me away."

Y/N’s tears spilled over, and she wiped them away quickly. "Lando, I could never pity you. And I would never push you away."

His brows furrowed, searching her eyes for understanding. "Then why did you leave?"

"Because I didn’t know how to handle it," she admitted, her voice raw with emotion. "Hearing you doubt yourself—it scared me."

Lando gently took her hands in his, looking deeply into her eyes. "I’ve been scared, too. Scared of losing you, of ruining what we have. But I can’t keep hiding how I feel."

Her breath caught in her throat as his words sank in.

"I love you," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "I’ve loved you since the moment we met. And if you don’t feel the same, I’ll understand. But I couldn’t let you leave without telling you."

Tears streamed down her face as she looked up at him, her heart pounding. "I do feel the same," she whispered. "I’ve been in love with you, too. I just didn’t know how to say it."

A smile spread across his face as relief and joy flooded his chest. Without another word, he pulled her into his arms, holding her tightly. "You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting to hear that."

She smiled through her tears, resting her forehead against his. "I’m sorry for running. I should’ve just talked to you."

Lando held Y/N close, his heart racing as if it were a race day. For months, he’d rehearsed this moment in his mind, but nothing could have prepared him for the overwhelming relief and joy that came with hearing her say she loved him too.

"You don’t have to apologize," he murmured, brushing a strand of hair from her face. "I should’ve told you how I felt sooner. I was just too much of a coward to risk losing you."

Y/N pulled back slightly, her eyes meeting his with a soft vulnerability. "You’re not a coward, Lando. You’ve been so patient with me, and I’m sorry if I ever made you think I didn’t care."

"You didn’t," he assured her. "I just... I got in my own head. I do that sometimes."

She smiled gently, the tension finally starting to ease. "We’re both pretty good at overthinking, huh?"

"Clearly," he replied with a chuckle, his thumb brushing against the back of her hand. "But maybe we can work on that together?"

Y/N nodded, a blush creeping onto her cheeks. "I’d like that."

The air between them shifted again, quieter now, but no less intense. Lando’s gaze flickered to her lips, and for a moment, he hesitated.

"Can I kiss you?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

Her response was immediate—a shy but confident nod as she leaned in. Their lips met, soft and tentative at first, but quickly deepened as weeks of unspoken feelings spilled into the kiss. Lando’s hands slid to her waist, pulling her closer, while Y/N’s fingers tangled in his curls.

When they finally broke apart, both were breathless, their foreheads resting together.

"That was worth the wait," Lando said, his voice tinged with humor and awe.

Y/N laughed softly, her cheeks still flushed. "Yeah, it was."

Lando glanced around her cozy flat, the Christmas lights casting a warm glow over everything. "As much as I love this place, it feels like we’re missing out on our cabin Christmas."

Y/N frowned slightly, guilt creeping back in. "I’m sorry for leaving. I ruined the trip for everyone."

"Hey," he said firmly, cupping her face with both hands. "Don’t do that. No one blames you, least of all me. Besides," he added with a teasing smirk, "I rented that ridiculously fancy cabin for selfish reasons."

Her brows furrowed. "Selfish reasons?"

"Yeah," he admitted, leaning in closer. "I was hoping I’d get some time alone with you."

Y/N’s eyes widened slightly, and then she laughed, a sound that sent warmth flooding through him. "Well, I guess you got what you wanted in the end."

"Not quite everything," he said, his tone turning serious. "But I’m working on it."

By the following evening, they were back at the cabin. Y/N had been reluctant at first, but Lando insisted, saying he wanted to finish what they’d started.

As the car pulled up to the chalet, Y/N couldn’t help but gasp. Seeing it again, with its snow-covered roof and twinkling lights against the backdrop of the Alps, it felt like stepping into a postcard.

"It’s beautiful," she said softly.

Lando grinned as he grabbed their bags. "Wait until you see it at night."

Inside, the warmth of the fireplace welcomed them, and Y/N felt a wave of nostalgia for the short time she’d spent there.

"I didn’t unpack everything after you left," Lando admitted as he set her bag by the stairs. "Figured you’d be back."

Y/N turned to him, her heart aching at how much faith he’d had in her. "Thank you for not giving up on me."

"Never," he said simply, his eyes locking with hers.

They spent the evening decorating the tree, finishing what they’d started days ago. Lando playfully scolded Y/N for her questionable ornament placement, while she retaliated by draping tinsel over his head.

When the tree was finally done, they sat on the plush rug in front of the fire, a bottle of wine between them.

"This feels nice," Y/N said, her voice soft.

Lando leaned back on his hands, watching her intently. "It feels perfect."

Y/N glanced at him, her cheeks heating under his gaze. "You’re staring again."

"Can’t help it," he said with a small shrug. "You’re kind of my favorite thing to look at."

Her laughter was quiet but genuine. "You’re such a flirt."

"Only with you," he admitted, his tone earnest.

They fell into a comfortable silence, the crackling of the fire filling the space. Y/N sipped her wine, her mind wandering back to the moment she overheard him at the cabin.

"Lando?" she asked hesitantly.

"Yeah?"

"When you said it was complicated... What did you mean?"

He exhaled deeply, setting his glass down. "I meant that my life is messy. The travel, the attention, the pressure—it’s not easy, and I didn’t want to drag you into all of that if you weren’t ready. But I realized something after you left."

"What?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

"That none of it matters if I don’t have you," he said, his eyes shining with sincerity. "You make everything better, Y/N. And I’m done letting fear get in the way of that."

Her chest tightened, and she reached out to take his hand. "I don’t care about the mess, Lando. I just want you."

His smile was soft but filled with relief. "You’ve got me, then."

And as the fire burned low and the snow fell gently outside, they sat together, finally at peace. For the first time in a long time, everything felt right.

As the evening drew on, the crackling warmth from the fire grew more comforting, and the glow of the twinkling lights on the Christmas tree made the cabin feel like a perfect little world of their own. Lando and Y/N had fallen into a comfortable silence, the soft clink of their wine glasses and the occasional laugh over a shared memory keeping the air light.

Y/N leaned back against the soft rug, feeling the warmth of the fire seeping into her body, and caught herself glancing over at Lando. His attention was on the flames, but there was something different in his expression tonight—a vulnerability she hadn’t seen before. The weight of everything between them—the distance, the confusion, the undeniable connection—had been lifted, and what remained was something new. Something hopeful.

"Lando," she began, her voice just above a whisper, tentative, yet full of curiosity.

He turned toward her, his eyes still soft but intense, always making her heart beat a little faster. "Yeah?"

Y/N swallowed, the words feeling heavy on her tongue, unsure of how to articulate the depth of her thoughts. "I’ve been thinking about everything—the way things unfolded, the way I left, and how much I was running from us… from what was right in front of me."

Lando’s gaze softened even more, and he scooted closer to her, his hand brushing against hers before he stopped, as if asking for permission. She placed her hand in his, lacing their fingers together, the simple touch sending a jolt of warmth through her chest.

"You’re not the only one who was running," he murmured, his voice low and sincere. "I think I’ve been too scared of what we could be. Of messing it up. But now… with you here, everything feels right. And I can’t keep pretending it doesn’t."

Her heart fluttered at his words. "I was scared, too," she admitted softly, gazing into his eyes. "Scared that maybe I was just a distraction for you. That maybe I was too much for you, or that you wouldn’t feel the same. But I don’t want to feel like that anymore."

He smiled, and for the first time in a long time, it was a smile that reached his eyes—gentle, warm, full of promise. "I feel everything for you, Y/N. I just didn’t know how to show it. How to tell you, especially when I thought you might not feel the same."

Y/N looked down at their intertwined hands, feeling a tightness in her chest at the realization of just how much they had both been holding back. "I’m sorry for leaving like I did," she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. "I shouldn’t have run away. I just… I was so overwhelmed."

Lando lifted her chin gently with his fingers, his touch tender as he urged her to meet his gaze. "You don’t need to apologize," he said softly. "What matters now is that we’re here. Together. And we don’t have to hide from what we feel anymore."

For a long moment, they just stared at each other, the air thick with the weight of everything they hadn’t said before. There was something sacred about this moment, as though time had slowed, giving them space to let everything they had kept buried come to the surface.

And then, without warning, Y/N felt the rush of emotions she had been holding back for so long. She leaned in slowly, her eyes never leaving his, as if testing the waters, seeing if he would pull away. But he didn’t. Instead, he met her halfway, their lips brushing in a tentative kiss that was soft but filled with an intensity neither of them had expected. It was the kind of kiss that spoke of years of friendship, years of longing, of waiting for the right moment.

But when their lips finally met, it felt like the world had shifted. It wasn’t just about a kiss. It was about all the unspoken words, all the time they had spent pretending they didn’t care, when all along, they had been waiting for this very moment. The kiss deepened, slow and desperate, as though they were both trying to make up for lost time, to erase the doubt and the distance they had allowed to grow between them.

When they pulled apart, their foreheads rested together, and neither of them spoke for a while. The only sound was the soft crackle of the fire and the distant howling of the wind outside.

"Everything feels different now," Y/N whispered, her voice full of wonder.

Lando’s lips quirked up in a gentle smile. "Different in a good way?"

She nodded, her fingers tracing the lines of his palm. "In a way that makes everything else feel unimportant. Like nothing else matters but us."

"Yeah," he agreed, the weight of the words settling in. "I’ve spent so much time thinking about the future, about racing, about everything else. But in this moment, with you… I know what really matters. It’s you."

Y/N felt a warmth spread through her chest, her heart swelling with affection. "I’ve been thinking the same thing," she said, her voice soft but steady. "I was scared. But now that we’re here, I’m not afraid anymore."

Lando tilted his head, studying her face with an intensity that sent a rush of heat through her. "So, no more running?"

She shook her head, her smile gentle but full of certainty. "No more running."

Lando leaned in again, his lips capturing hers in another kiss—this one slow, full of everything they had been holding back. There was a tenderness in it, a promise that they would take this slow, that they would learn to navigate whatever was to come together. But more than that, it was a kiss filled with the knowledge that they were finally on the same page, finally together in a way they had always been meant to be.

As they broke apart, Lando reached for the bottle of wine and poured them both another glass, the soft clink of the glasses a gentle reminder that they had come a long way.

Y/N glanced out the window at the snowflakes gently falling from the sky, each one unique and fleeting, just like the moment they were sharing. "It’s beautiful out there," she said softly.

Lando turned to look as well, and for a moment, they were silent again, watching the world outside. But then he turned back to her, a playful glint in his eyes.

"Not as beautiful as you, though," he said with a grin.

Y/N rolled her eyes, but she couldn’t help the smile that tugged at her lips. "You’re such a flirt."

"Only with you," he replied, his voice low and teasing. He leaned in closer, his breath warm against her skin. "And I always will be."

Her heart raced at his words, her body feeling alive with the anticipation of everything that was unfolding between them. She leaned into him again, her lips brushing his, more sure of herself now than she had ever been.

And for the first time in a long time, she allowed herself to believe in the possibility of everything—the future, the love they had shared, and the love that was still waiting to be discovered between them.

[buckyalpine]

Bucky comfort. What I need like air right now is a sweet, chubby baker Bucky who notices his bunny is down. She doesn't say anything out of the ordinary when she comes to visit the bakery, kissing his soft scruffy cheek before taking a seat at the booth with a fresh Danish he made.

Cherry, because that's her favorite.

He can tell something is off when her smile doesn't quite meet her eyes and she's curled up in his hoodie quietly nibbling on the pastry instead of clinging onto him like she usually does.

He doesn't like it. Not one bit.

He loves when his girl hugs his thick waist tightly from behind while his works at the dough and rolls out croissants. Her little hands usually knead at the fluff around his belly. Instead she seems to be in her own world, wrapping her arms tightly around herself and pushing herself further into her seat to hide from the rest of world. You tell him you have to run a few errands and he doesn't miss your steamy eyes and small voice as you scurry off out of the bakery and it just adds to his worry.

Bucky was having none of that.

He lets Sam and Steve take over a couple of his orders, cleaning off and deciding to go straight home to you instead, he knows you don't actually have errands to do, he always makes sure to take care of them anyway. When he arrives back home, he isn't surprised to see your smaller form curled in a ball on the couch, eyes wide, surprised to see him.

"Bucky?" the quiver in your voice gives away that you'd been crying moments earlier.

"C'mere baby bunny" Bucky cooed, scooping you up in his beefy arms, and cradling your body to his, holding you to his chest while you nuzzle into his neck. "Wanna tell me what's going on in that little head of yours" He whispered against your hair, stroking it while you pull back, giving him a shrug. He knows you don't always want to talk about it but he's going to do what he can to make you feel better

"I'm not sure" You say with a sigh, your mind still running around a thousand miles a minute. Nothing particularly bad happened but one thought led to another; questioning if you were happy with your job, if you were happy with where you were in life, if you were someone Bucky would actually even want to be with, someone so sweet and loving and handsome like him, all your friends seemed to have found their footing and you were still here so unsure-

"Shhh" he kissed your forehead as if he could hear your insecurities screaming at you from inside your head. "What do you need sweet girl" His lips brush against the top of your head, breathing in your soft scent of peach body wash and vanilla lotion. He has you perfectly tucked into his much larger form, as if he were trying to protect his baby bunny from the rest of the world.

"Cuddles?" You cling onto him, sighing contently when he shifts so he can wrap you up in his arms while you bury your face into his chest. Everything about him is so comforting, if you could find a way to burrow yourself into him, you would. Your wiggling and shifting to get even closer makes Bucky chuckle, cooing at the whine you let out when he pulls away.

"Not going anywhere bunny, just getting us more comfortable" You're not sure how he does it but with minimal effort and movement he's helped you strip off all your clothes along with his, tossing the fluffy throw to cover you both up. You love feeling his bare skin against yours, practically purring now that you can feel every bit of him.

The rumble of your stomach doesn't go unnoticed by Bucky and he makes sure to wrap you up in a blanket burrito before getting up and padding over to the kitchen.

"Where are you going now" You pout and he cups your face with the gentlest touch.

"You're hungry bub, I'm just getting a snacky" and with that he walks off, grinning at the giggle you let out watching his perfectly perky ass saunter off.

"Yummyy" You wiggle happily from under your blanket at both the sight of you very pretty, very naked boyfriend carrying in a plate of more Danishes and a bunch of other pastries and fruit he grabbed on the way out when he left the bakery.

Bucky adores seeing you like this, setting down the snacks so he can hold you again when you give him grabby arms. He doesn't let you lift a fingers, feeding you another Danish, kissing the crumbs that clung onto your lips. He runs you a bath next. His bunny doesn't feel like moving much so he's happy to carry you there while you wrap yourself around him like a koala bear.

By the end of the night he loves seeing the light return to your eyes, your soft giggles when he has you perched on the bathroom counter doing your skin care routine with him.

"Keep your little paws to yourself, doll" Bucky swats away your hands when you reach for the lotion, taking over the job for himself. He's more than happy to massage up and down your calves to your thighs. He massages all the knots out of your back and shoulders before carrying you off to bed again for more cuddles and kisses.

Anyway, this was sitting in the drafts for weeds and it's still what I need rn.

[bi-writes]

Since he won't have MOB lift a finger in their home and given how he reacted when she came out in her lingerie, I like to imagine Simon gets a little flustered whenever he's doing the laundry and he's got to sort out her underwear from the rest of the clothes

mail-order bride

it's quiet this afternoon. it's cold outside again (what a surprise), and there's rain pattering gently against the windows. there's a stew in the oven, but it still needs a few hours to get that perfect tender texture. nevertheless, the house is filled with a warm smell, something hearty and wonderful.

something like home.

when simon walks into the living room, he sees you there. you're curled up on the couch, wrapped in a blanket, head resting on a throw pillow as you watch a movie. there's a mug of tea in front of you, steam rising from it, and simon comes over to greet you.

you turn your head, looking up at him towering over you, and you smile up at him as you snuggle a little further into the pillow. you hold out your hand for him.

"wanna watch with me?" you ask, and he clicks his tongue, shaking his head. he takes your hand anyways, and you swallow hard as he presses your knuckles to his lips, giving them a light kiss before letting go.

"doin' the laundry. can't find yours."

you go to sit up, but simon frowns, visibly upset that you're moving from your spot.

"don't get up," he tells you, tucking the blanket back over you. "just tell me where it is."

you bite your lip.

"uhm...it's in the closet. there's...a bag there."

simon hums, thumbing over your jaw before making his way into the bedroom. he flicks the light on in the closet, moving hangers around until he spots a canvas bag on the floor there, stuffed to the brim with your dirty clothes. he picks it up, cursing a little from how heavy it is, and he carries it with him to the washroom. when he passes the living room, he stops for a moment.

"oi," he calls out to you, and you turn your head, smiling at him, and he points to the bag. "you put y'r clothes with mine from now on, yeah?"

you tuck your face behind the blanket a little more to hide your growing smile. you nod anyways, and he huffs a little before continuing. he puts his basket of laundry on top of the dryer, opening the lid of the washer, and he lifts your little bag up next to the basket. after he sets it down, he steps back when the bag starts to move.

"oi! wot the fuck?!"

at the shout, you scramble off the couch, hurrying towards where he is.

"what? what?! what happened?"

"bag's fuckin' movin'!" simon huffs, but when you try to come further into the room, simon puts a hand on your chest gently, pushing you backwards and behind him. he blocks you completely with his body, and you still can barely see as you stand on your toes and try and look over his shoulder.

"simon--" you sigh. "simon! wait--let me see!"

"fuck no," he snarls, "stay there."

he pushes the bag over so that it tips over, falling onto its side. your clothes tumble out, spilling onto the dryer and onto the floor, and simon reaches around him and wraps one big hand around your waist protectively to hold you back as he cranes his neck to see.

"what is it? simon!" you hiss, and simon holds his breath as the bag continues to move. there's a wiggle of a shape under the canvas before a familiar little head pokes itself out from the opening, one of your shirt sleeves framing their face and hiding their ears.

simon groans audibly, relaxing immediately.

"fuckin' hell," he mutters, letting you push him aside, and you hold onto his bicep as you try and hide your laugh. the cat wriggles its way through your shirt sleeve before shaking, fluffing her hair back up before she takes a seat on the edge of the dryer lid and starts to lick her little paw. "'ow did it fuckin' breathe in there, eh?"

you step past him and reach for her, picking her up off the dryer and tucking her into the crook of your arm. she lays her little head on your arm, blinking slowly up at you, and you tap her nose gently before looking back and up at simon.

"sorry she scared you, big man," you giggle, and he scrunches his nose a bit as he glares at the cat.

"wasn't scared," he huffs, and he brings you closer with a hand on your jaw, drawing you nearer. he runs his tongue over his teeth, looking down at you, and you swear his gaze lingers on your lips for just a second too long. "got precious cargo in m'house. couldn't let anythin' happen ta 'er."

you blink up at him, opening your mouth to say something, but you sputter, laughing, looking away from him. you shrug him off with a roll of your eyes, but you look back at him just as you're about to turn the corner and leave. he's already back to picking up your clothes that have fallen onto the floor, and you nearly choke when he's got one big hand wrapped around bright red lace.

he holds up the edges of it for a moment to inspect it, and he swallows when he realizes it's a pair of your panties.

your favorite panties.

when he looks over his shoulder, your eyes lock, and you squeak as you hide behind the doorway, shutting your eyes as you cringe at yourself for reacting so silly.

for fuck's sake, it's your husband--husbands wash their wives undergarments, right?

you poke your head back into the doorway, just enough for your eyes to get simon in view again. he's putting the rest of the clothes in the washer, putting a small amount of soap into it before shutting the top and putting the water on cold. you hide again when he turns around, flattening your back against the wall, and when he comes out, he's got a hint of a smirk on his face, knowing, because he knows he's caught you.

when he passes by you, you go half-lidded and slack when his hand finds your face again, thumb against your bottom lip. his eyes are so dark; beautiful, pupils blown wide, a magnet that draws you closer, up onto your toes until his thumb is nearly touching your tongue and your lips are nearly brushing against his.

simon takes your breath away when he leaves. you follow him hoping to get it back.

[wandaslittlebird]

Gentle With Mama

Stepmom!Wanda x Reader

After waking up next to Wanda for the first time in years, you find yourself rediscovering who taught you to be gentle.

CW: Stepmother/Stepdaughter, wet dreams, MOMMY ISSUES, breastfeeding, size kink, strap ons, first time? (kinda?), flashbacks, dacryphilia, R is a terrible fuck.

Word Count: 4.4k

A/N: This one is straight up Freudian filth, but I'm unironically proud of it so be nice to me.

A/N: There will be a third part to this eventually, but don’t hold your breath I’ve got a lot of other WIPs I’m going to try to finish first.

Part 2 of Her Special Girl

Wanda was almost embarrassed of the way her heart sang when she woke up with you in her arms the next morning. You were home! Her baby is finally home! 

She hadn’t really even realized how much she’d missed until you’d come back. Sure she thought about you everyday, wondered how you were doing, slept in your bed when she found herself unable to sleep, wore your hoodies around the house, fantasized about you while she…okay so maybe she had missed you more than she cared to admit. 

She giggled when she peeled the covers up to find both your thighs and hers covered in cum, as well as the sheets and the blankets. “Aww my sweet girl,” she cooed, pulling your head up under her chin. She kissed the top of your head stroking it gently with her thumb. “Did you have a good dream?” Even in your sleep, she could’ve sworn she felt you nod. 

It was tempting to shake you awake now. Maybe she’d even make a little fuss about the mess you’d made, watch your face get all red with embarrassment while you tried to hide under the blankets, covered in your own slick. God you’d be so cute. And she was willing to bet you’d do anything to make it up to her, little doe eyes pleading for forgiveness over something Wanda was not even upset about in the first place. She could have you as putty in her hands all morning. 

She shook the thought from her head. As tempting as it was, you’d had a rough week already. She opted instead to grab the discarded towel from last night and use it to clean herself up. Then she pulled back the blankets, smiling when you whined and grabbed around for them in your sleep. “Shh, detka. Keep sleeping. Mama’s gonna get you all cleaned up.” 

She gently wiped you down with the towel, shushing your whines as the cool fabric hit the warm skin of your thighs. You moaned when the fabric hit your core, stuttering your little hips against the fluffy towel. Wanda chuckled. “Settle down, honey. You're gonna get yourself all worked up again.”

When she finished with the towel, she pulled a sheet from the closet. She climbed onto the bed between your legs, lifting you off the bed while she scooted the clean sheet underneath you. She heard a sleepy little whimper in her ear as she lifted you up against her chest. “Mama?” 

She laid you back down against the clean sheet, pulling up the duvet to tuck you back in. “Shh, it’s okay little love. Go back to sleep.” She wiped the hair off of your sleepy face, pressing a kiss to your forehead. 

She wadded up the wet blanket, throwing it into a pile with the towel. You groaned. The extra blanket was definitely missed without any clothes on in the middle of winter. Your face reddened as you started to realize she was cleaning up a mess. Probably your mess. 

“Did I wet myself last night?” You asked, sitting up in bed as panic started to build in your chest. Did you seriously just wet the bed at 22 years old? Did you seriously just wet your parents bed at 22 years old?

She sat down next to you pulling you in to kiss your head. So much for not embarrassing you. “You made a little bit of a mess, but it’s okay. Mama took care of it. It wasn’t a potty mess, if that’s what you're worried about. My sweet girl just had a really good dream is all. You don’t need to be embarrassed, honey.”

“O-okay,” you nodded, still blushing fiercely as you curl into her. You were unsure if it was more or less embarrassing that you’d cum in sleep rather than having pissed the bed. Still, you were able to relax into her, recalling bits of the dream that had caused the mess in the first place. “Mama?”

“Yes, little love?”

“It’s not a bad thing to have naughty dreams, is it? Cause, like, you’re asleep and you can’t control it.” You couldn’t look her in the eyes as you spoke. 

Wanda chuckled and kissed the top of your head. She knew your shame well and never wished to perpetuate it anyway. “No sweetheart. It’s not a bad thing.”

You nodded shyly. “Not even if they’re about mama?”

Wanda smiled, pleasantly surprised by your admission. “Especially not if they’re about mama, honey.” She squeezed you tight, pressing a long kiss to your forehead. She bent and whispered in your ear. “Sometimes mama has naughty dreams about you too.”

You smiled up at her, kissing her jaw before kissing your way further down her body. You rubbed your hands over the soft expanse of her stomach, admiring each curve and dip with endless wonder, caressing her with gentle hands. You traced the stretch marks that littered her side, curving upwards from her underbelly and her hips. 

She’d always loathed this part of herself. She never, for a second, regretted her boys, but she could not deny the havoc having twins wrecked on her body. Two babies meant she grew bigger all at once, leaving her skin stretched grotesquely. She hated when people brought any attention to at all. 

Yet, when she looked down at your face, she could not bring herself to ask you to stop. You look at her with a wonder she’d never experienced before. The innocent look in your eyes was not one of someone trying to console her about her broken body, but one of pure worship. It had never even crossed your mind that such attributes could be considered ugly. To you, she was nothing short of pure perfection. 

You kissed her just below her navel, nuzzling your nose in the space above it. You hummed contentedly, resting your head on her stomach, rubbing small circles on her lower abdomen.

But after a while, your face fell from one of contentment and joy, to one of an almost sad longing. 

Wanda noticed the shift immediately. “Is everything alright, love?”

You paused, unsure of what to say without making it weird. You could barely speak above a whisper. “It’s not fair.”

Wanda tried to pull you up her body so she could hear you better and give you comforting kisses, but you were cemented in place. “What’s not fair, detka?”

“I didn’t get to grow inside of you. I had to grow inside of some rotten woman who doesn’t even love me anyway!” Frustrated tears pricked your eyes. Nothing was fair. Your hands continued to gently caress the womb you envied. “I hate her! She was never my mama!”

Wanda sighed, playing with your hair. She held an equal amount of hatred for your mother, if not more. Her lack of dedication and responsibility towards you had always been equal parts confusing and infuriating. “I’m sorry, detka. I’m sorry she doesn’t treat you like the special, important little girl you are. You deserve so much better than her. She doesn’t deserve to call herself your mother.” Wanda pulled you up her body again, this time dragging you up by force. She needed you closer. 

You conceded allowing her to slide you up the bed and tuck your head under her chin. She gently petted your hair and rocked you against her, shushing your cries and wiping away your tears. “Why doesn’t she love me?”

Wanda felt her heart shatter into a million pieces. She wasn’t sure what to say. She couldn’t understand how any mother could treat their child so carelessly, least of all when that child was as brilliant and wonderful as you were. “Because she’s only ever looking out for herself. Because she’s so blinded by her own misery to see what a beautiful thing she has created.”

Your hand gently caressed her chest, feeling her nipples harden under your fingertips. She shivered under your touch, watching you as you looked longingly at her chest. 

She recalled a random conversation she’d once had with your mother in which she had said she didn’t breastfeed any of her children because it was quote “not her responsibility to get up in the middle of night when the baby got hungry.” 

God I would’ve been so much better at being your mother. I would’ve stayed up all night just to watch your sweet little face as you nursed. 

She smiled sadly. She couldn’t turn back the clock, but she had you here with her now. She couldn’t change what you did and didn’t have then, but she could give it to you now. 

“Come here, sweet girl. You can suck on mama. It’s okay. You don’t have to be embarrassed.” She manually parted your hesitant lips with her thumb, allowing you to take her into your mouth. “That’s it sweet girl,” she cooed, stroking her hands through your hair. She ran her knuckle over your soft cheek, still covered in fine baby fuzz. Your lips were soft and warm around her. She thought she’d never get tired of the sight or the sensation. 

For a moment, you felt a sense of peace wash over you. Despite never actually having been breastfed, your body knew instinctively what to do. It’s like it had been waiting all along, for Wanda to come around. You sucked at her with effortless rhythm, perfectly massing her nipple with your tongue. But then, a new sadness and longing creeped into your mind. There was no milk here. There was no milk here for you, and there never was because she was never truly yours. 

You pulled away, shrinking back down her body. You clutched at her waist, nuzzling into her so hard it was like you were trying to crawl under her skin. You wanted to be inside of her where you'd be safe and warm and comfortable. You needed to be inside of her. It felt like the only thing that could quell the aching in your heart.

“Mama?”

“Yes, little love?”

“Can I…?” You pressed on her lower abdomen in indication. “Please?”

She looked down at you, your big soft eyes pleading with her. How could she ever deny you anything? “Aww sweetheart, do you wanna be inside mama?”

You nodded eagerly, still clinging to her lower half. 

She stroked your temple with her knuckle. “Alright, honey. You can be inside mama. You just have to be gentle. Can you do that? Do you remember how mama taught you to be gentle?”

You laid with your head pressed to her stomach, recalling what it meant to be gentle. 

—————

“I’m scared, mama,” you said, voice shaking slightly. You were 18 again, a newly deflowered girl who was yet to explore anything beyond a few fingers. The two of you’d been talking about this for a couple weeks now, and you were sure you wanted to try it, but you were still so nervous. “Is it gonna hurt?”

Wanda gently slid a soft towel under your butt. She warned you that you might bleed a little tiny bit, since it was your first time. “It might. But it will only hurt for a little bit, I promise. And then you’re going to feel so so good, baby. I just know you’re gonna love it.”

Wanda knew what she was getting herself into here. She knew the moment she was inside of you, you were going to be hooked on the feeling. She had no doubt you’d be begging for her strap every single time you were alone together. 

And god she could nearly cum from the thought alone. 

You, sitting at her feet while she worked, begging to be fucked just one more time. You, falling apart as she buried herself inside of you. You, incoherently mumbling her name while you cried on her big toy. 

Deep breaths. She had to pace herself. This was only your first time after all.

“Mama’s gonna be so gentle, okay? And if you don’t like it, we can stop and you don’t have to try it again,” she cooed. 

You nodded. Poor thing, you looked like you were already about to cry and she hadn’t even touched you yet. 

“It’s okay to cry, sweetheart,” she insisted, more for her own purposes than for your comfort. She stroked your cheek gently, watching the first of many tears roll down. “It’s okay. Mama’s got you. Take a deep breath for me honey.”

You nodded again, closing your eyes to take a deep breath. “I trust you, mama.” 

“I know, love. Mama’s gonna take good care of you.” She opened a little bottle on the side table. “Now this is gonna be a little cold, okay?” She said before pouring a little bit of lube down your folds. She slowly massaged it inside of you with her fingers, shushing your little squeaks of discomfort as the cool liquid hit your most sensitive parts. Then she massaged a generous amount onto the shaft of her toy. 

She could have, admittedly, gone a bit smaller for your first time. But, as much as she didn’t want to hurt you, she couldn’t pass up the opportunity to watch you squirm on a bigger toy. It wasn’t anything outrageous, of course, but it was still a generous 8 inches and probably twice as thick as the three fingers you’d had inside of you before. 

She slid the tip of the toy through your center, wiggling it against your clit. You shivered at the new sensation, your nerves still growing inside of you. She lined the toy up with your entrance. “Okay, baby. Take a big deep breath for me.”

You did as instructed, taking in a long shaky inhale, and exhaling. On the exhale though, she pushed the first inches of the toy inside of you. You cried out, flailing around underneath her as she pushed into slowly. Your hands shot down between your legs, pushing against her lower abdomen to keep her from pushing in any further. “Mama please, please mama it hurts.”

She took your hand from her stomach, gently placing it over your head. She intertwined her fingers with yours, allowing you to squeeze her hand as much as you needed. “Shh baby, it’ll only hurt for a second. I promise it’ll feel good in a minute. Just trust me love.”

You bit your lip hard, but nodded your head, allowing her to keep going. You whimpered and cried with each cruel inch that made its way into you, but eventually she stopped. 

“That’s it baby. It’s all the way in. Aww, sweet girl mama’s so so proud of you. I know it hurts baby but you’re doing so good,” she praised, kissing away your tears and softly caressing your face. Her body was flushed with yours. You squeezed her hand, trying to relieve some of the pain. 

She whispered soft words of comfort and soothed you while your face slowly shifted from contorted in pain, to mindless with pleasure. She used her free hand to wipe your hair from your forehead. “There you go sweet girl. Does it still hurt?”

You shook your head. “N-no. I just feel… you.”

She kissed your forehead gently. “I’m going to start moving now, okay? Just tell me if it hurts again and I’ll stop.”

You nodded, wrapping your free arm around her back, clinging to her. Your other hand still squeezed hers. 

She started slow, just as she promised she would. It stung, a little, but more than anything, you just felt full of her. It felt heavenly. You weren’t sure how you’d live your entire life without it. You wanted her buried inside you forever. Anything less, you thought, would be unsatisfactory. You’d felt heaven, and now you’d never be satisfied on Earth. 

Almost unintentionally, you scratched her back, leaving red tracks down her spine. She gasped and thrust into you. You cried out, freeing your other hand from her grip and wrapping it around her back, now clinging to her with both arms. 

“I’m sorry baby,” she whispered, kissing your temple in apology.

“It’s okay, mama,” you mumbled, face buried in her shoulder. “Please don’t stop. Please don’t leave me.” You wrapped your legs around her waist, holding her inside of you. 

Wanda knew in that moment, she had you hooked. She rocked into you faster, your old bed creaking with her movements. You whined and whimpered with each thrust, but matched her hips with your own. You were so desperate for her, so desperate for her to make you hers. 

“I-I love you. Mama I love you. Please don’t stop. Please mama never… I want you inside of me forever. Please, you feel so good,” you rambled breathlessly, clawing into her back. You hadn’t stopped crying through the whole ordeal. You were unsure when the crying had turned from pain to pleasure. 

She breathed heavily in your ear, your desperate clinging forcing her to double her efforts. She was only spurred on by your scratching. Each jolt of pain sent her hammering into you harder than before. “You’re doing so good, baby. Mama’s close, honey. Oh love, just like that. You’re gonna make mama cum.”

You felt her hips stutter as she came, finally collapsing breathlessly on top of you. She laid there for a few moments before reaching down between your legs to pull the toy out. 

“No! Mama please don’t take it out yet. Please just a little longer. Just for a little bit while we cuddle,” you pleaded. 

Wanda laughed breathlessly. “Okay, sweet girl. We can leave it there for another minute longer. But then you have to sit up and drink some water.”

She laid on your chest, letting you play with her hair. You ran a gentle hand over the long red lines that covered her back, occasionally hitting a spot that would make her wince. 

“Oh! Careful detka. You gotta be gentle with mama,” she said. 

You bent down and kissed her back, brushing your hands over the scratches more lightly this time. “Gentle with mama,” you repeated, coddling her body until she fell asleep inside of you.

—————

You nodded. Gentle. You remembered gentle. 

“Okay, detka,” she chuckled. “I’ll go get it.”

She hopped up off the bed, heading into your bedroom. She kept the secret toys in the top of your old closet with the remainder of your clothes, a place she knew your father would never look. She pulled down an old duffle bag that had remained almost entirely untouched since you left. 

She returned with a large scarlet strap, your favorite, already secured to a harness. You excitedly clambered off the bed, allowing her to help you buckle it around your waist. 

You were tempted to pull her into a bruising kiss right there, back her up until her knees hit the bed, and push yourself inside of her until you both forgot where you ended and she began.

But you promised to be gentle. So you would be gentle. 

You waited for her to crawl up on the bed before crawling up behind her and kneeling between her legs. She reached back to grab a bottle of lube from the drawer at the side table, reaching down to rub a generous amount onto the strap. 

She smirked when you whined, bucking and twitching against her hand like you could actually feel her movements. With how reactive you were, she was sometimes genuinely convinced you could. 

“Already, honey. Nice and slow for mama,” she instructed, allowing you to start slowly pressing yourself into her. 

You did as instructed, lining yourself with her entrance and watching in fascination as her body took more and more of you inside of it. Your eyes went wide and you watched a small bulge form at the base of her abdomen. In a moment of excitement, you pushed yourself all the way inside of her, bottoming out unexpectedly.

“Fuck!” She shouted, hands immediately pushing your hips back. 

“Sorry sorry sorry!” You apologized frantically. You hadn’t meant to hurt her, you’d just gotten excited. Your hand ran gently over her abdomen, instinctively trying to soothe the pain you’d caused. 

“It’s okay baby. Just nice and gentle for mama. Can you do that for me?”

You nodded eagerly. Slow and gentle. You could be slow and gentle. Just like she taught you. 

You tried again, this time succeeding at a slower pace. You reached down to touch the bulge in her stomach. Your heart raced with excitement. That’s me! That’s me inside of mama! 

You started to slowly rock your hips back and forth, whimpering as you watched the bump in her stomach slowly move. “Mama…”

Wanda had her head tossed back over the pillows, head spinning with the sensation of being so incredibly full. “That’s it, baby. That’s my sweet girl, being all nice and gentle for mama,” she moaned. “You can start moving, sweetheart.”

You moved slowly at first, clearly very nervous to accidentally hurt her again. But after watching the rhythmic movement of the bulge in her stomach for a few minutes, your thrust became more erratic. You rutted into her with absolutely no rhythm, your own head spinning with too much excitement to care.

Words like “slow” and “gentle” were forgotten to the wet sound of her cunt swallowing you. You panted pathetically, whimpering as thoughtlessly chased your own pleasure. 

Two hands fell on your hips, stilling them and forcing you out of her. “Okay, honey,” she chuckled, amused by your lust blown eyes pleading with her to let you keep going. “It’s okay baby, you’re okay.”

She grabbed you and flipped you over, pinning you underneath her. She straddled your waist. “Now just be a good girl and lay down for me just like that. Mama’s gonna have her turn now okay?”

You nodded eagerly, propping your head up with pillows so you could look at her. 

She lined the toy back up with her own entrance, slowly lowering herself down onto it. Your eyes went wide at the sight of the beautiful woman, in complete ecstasy as she took your toy down to the last inch. She threw her head back, moaning with unrestrained pleasure. 

Your hands clambered up her body, desperate to grab a hold of anything at all. She took one of your hands in hers, flattening it out and placing it against her lower abdomen as she rode you. “You feel that baby? That’s you, honey!”

You nodded dumbly. “Inside mama.”

“That’s right, detka. You’re inside your mama,” she cooed. “Oh fuck, you feel so good baby. Do you like being inside mama, sweet girl. Do you like feeling your big toy moving inside of her?”

“Mhm,” you groaned, biting your lip. “You feel so good. It’s so tight and warm. You’re so beautiful mama. So so beautiful.”

She smiled. “Thank you, baby,” she said, squeezing your hand. “Fuck your making your mama feel so good.” Her voice cracked and her eyes rolled to the back of her head. 

You sniffled, tears pricking the corner of your eyes. You could hardly take it, watching her face contorted in pleasure while you felt yourself moving inside of her. It was all too much. 

“Aww, sweet girl,” she cooed. “Come here, honey.” She pulled you up by the arm so you were sitting up, flush against her. She ran her fingers through your hair. “You’re doing so good, sweetheart. You feel so good buried inside of mama, right where you’re supposed to be, huh?”

You nodded against her chest, arms wrapping tight around her waist. “Uh huh.” Your nails clawed at her back in a desperate attempt to pull her closer. 

She groaned at the feeling of you, slicing at her skin. “That’s it, detka. Hold onto mama, baby. I’ve got you. No need to scratch, honey. I’m not going anywhere.”

She continued to ride you while you cried into her chest. “Mama… I love you! I love you, mama! Please mama! I love you so much.”

“I love you too, darling,” she moaned. “Do you wanna make mama cum, sweet girl? Do you wanna feel mama cum around you?” She lead your hand between her legs, guiding you to play with her clit. 

You nodded frantically into her chest, circling your fingers around her swollen bud. “I wanna make you cum. Please. Please cum for me, mama.”

Before you could even finish your sentence, she was crying out, pulsing around the toy. She quickly swatted your hand away, instantly overstimulated by the intensity of her orgasm. 

You caught her as she nearly fell backwards. The toy popped out of her and bounced against her stomach. You eased her down against the bed, stuffing a pillow up under her head. You wrapped your arms around her torso, cradling her head in one hand. You pressed a long kiss to her forehead. “I got you, mama.”

You got up, making quick work of removing the harness before crawling back into bed with Wanda, who lay completely breathless. You managed to turn her around, laying her gently against the headboard so you could press a cold glass of water to her lips. 

She smiled, taking the water from you and happily gulping it down. “Thank you, sweetheart.”

You smiled back at her and kissed her temple, grabbing your pajama shirt and using it to very gently clean her up. She winced when you touched between her legs, still terribly sensitive from her orgasm. 

You grabbed her hand, intertwining her fingers with your own. “It’s okay, mama. I’ll be gentle.”

She smiled down at you, beaming with pride. “You really do remember how to be gentle with mama.”

You grinned. “I learned from the best.”

You tossed the dirty shirt towards the hamper, just barely missing and landing on the towel and blanket from earlier. Wanda chuckled, pulling your body against her own. She guided your head down to her chest, encouraging you to take her nipple into your mouth. “Do you wanna try again, little love?”

You nodded, wrapping your lips around her, suckling peacefully. This time, it didn’t matter that there was no milk there for you. It didn’t matter that you hadn’t grown inside of her, or that she wasn’t the first person to ever hold you. She was holding you now.

She was still your mama, and you were still her baby. Everything else was white noise.

Taglist: @wandasdove @themilfsland @moonxytcn @jordy-12 @the-lakes89 @boredandneedfanfics @bwe-esfr @wandasslut3000 @kaymariesworld @wandasfreak @lesbiansweet

[nightfiilms]

— is it casual now?

summary: in which you and sevika have been hooking up for months!

content warnings: nsfw, 18+, MDNI, smut, reader!giving, reader!receiving, strap-ons, tribbing, biting, fingering, face-riding, choking.

a/n: first fic kinda nervous…

You’d made plans a week ago to meet tonight, but Sevika had proven busier than usual, following the loss of her previous partner, so the two of you didn’t really talk much about it beforehand. But that didn’t stop you from showing up to her apartment at your usual time. You use the key she put in your coat pocket a few months ago, saying that she wants you to be able to walk in without her knowing, she likes the surprise, though, you always showed up on schedule anyways.

When you walked in, you immediately realize that she’s not inside. You assume that she’s out on business and let yourself in anyways. It’s a place you’ve spent countless nights and countless mornings in, cuddled up under her body or sitting on her counter as she cooked you breakfast. She usually keeps the place quite neat, everything in its place, but you can tell that the woman has been pretty busy. Her shoes are not neatly lined on the wall like they usually are, the empty glasses on the table, the unfolded blanket on the ground.

You know that you’re going to wait for her, so instead of sitting mindlessly on her bed, you pick up the living room and wash the dishes in the sink. It feels silly, but you know that if it were you, you’d appreciate the help. It takes you less than half an hour to finish everything and then you take yourself to her bedroom, deciding to just sit until she came back.

It only takes about another 15 minutes before you hear her front door open. Your heart immediately starts to race, you try to hide the giddy grin on your face but you can’t. You always look forward to these nights with her.

You hear her drop something onto the ground and her footsteps head in your direction, it makes you squirm, you can’t wait to see her face. Even in the dim light of her apartment, you can still see the outline of the smirk on her face when she spots you lounging, like it’s your own.

“Didn’t know if you’d show.” She says, her voice is hoarse and you notice that her once missing arm, is replaced with a newer, bigger one. You want to ask about it, but you want her to come over to you more.

“I always show.” You reply, crossing your legs, knowing it’ll avert her eyes down.

It does.

You like when she looks at you, watches you. You like it more when she’s touching you, but you also like the wait, the anticipation.

Sevika takes a step closer before pulling her jacket off, throwing in to the side. You can feel her from here, just her presence alone can get a reaction out of you. You lift your hand and wave her closer, you want nothing more than to feel her hand on your skin, but you also know control.

Sometimes Sevika is quick and to the point, and other times she makes it agonizingly slow to the point of suffocation. Tonight seems to be the latter. She walks to you slowly, her eyes glazing over your body as you rest on her bed, waiting for her. When she reaches you, your hand slowly wraps around her thigh, the muscle tightening under your touch. Her hand slowly finds its way into your hair and now you have no choice but to angle your head up to look at her.

“How long were you waiting?” Her voice is low, tired, and so so so sexy.

“You know what time I come,” You smile, “Don’t act like you don’t.” It makes Sevika smirk again, you want to kiss it off of her.

“Hm.” Her head tilts as she looks you up and down again, you’re drowning under her gaze, feeling yourself ready to give it all over right now. “Can you wait a little longer?I had a long day, I needa shower.” It almost sounds regretful, like she’d rather be here with you right now than doing anything else.

You sigh, “I think I can manage.”

Sevika leans in close, her lips inches from yours. “Don’t pout, love, I’m all yours tonight.”

She’s gone before you can even process the words, you were too intoxicated by the feel of her hand in your hair that you couldn’t think straight. You were always like this around her, you couldn’t help it, she just knew how to turn you on without even really doing anything.

You don’t really know how long you’ve been seeing Sevika, you lost count how many nights you spent with her tongue on your skin. You didn’t venture outside of silly, playful dynamic you already had going on, but when you went home, you always stripped in front of your mirror and traced every bruise, bite mark, and hickey you could find. You loved looking at them, feeling them, remembering them. You loved that she marked you, that she felt like you were hers and she could claim you like that.

You didn’t know whether or not Sevika thought about you outside of this bedroom, but sometimes, when it’s been a little longer that you haven’t seen each other, you notice that she grips a little harder, kisses a little longer, and holds just a little tighter.

Which could mean nothing.

You lay down while you wait for her, listening to the sound of the water running from the other room. You think about going in there, stripping down to nothing and climbing in there with her. You imagine the look on her face, shock mixed with intrigue. You can picture her grabbing you up and pinning you against the wall, the warm water hitting your face as she sucks on your neck. But then you remember her saying that she had a long day and you let her have a moment of peace in the shower.

The room is dark when the water turns off and you’re feeling impatient. It doesn’t help when Sevika walks out with nothing but a towel, squeezing the excess water from her hair. She’s completely bare and beautiful and you feel your fingers tremble with desire.

She comes to you immediately, climbing into bed, hovering over you. You can smell her, it’s some earthy, deep scent that you can’t place, but god, does it smell divine. She leans in and presses her lips to yours. Sevika kisses like she fights, angry and hungry for more, rough and without thought. Her body feels like heaven on top of yours, it’s soft but you know it’s seen the worst of Zaun, which only makes you want to touch her more. She’s not gentle with you, she’s not gentle with much in her life, but she handles you differently. Like she’s knows that you’re gentle, and she’s okay with that.

She dips her body down, her breasts touching your chest, you suddenly wish that you were naked as well, craving the skin to skin that the two of you are so used to.

Your hand reaches up and takes a fistful of her hair, deepening the kiss so she knows that you’re ready. Sevika gets the hint, pressing her knee between your legs as she kisses harder. You can’t help but gasp, your other hand instinctively grabbing at her skin. The second your nails dig into her non-mechanical arm, she bites down on your bottom lip, pulling another small gasp.

“You’re wearin’ too much.” Sevika mutters against your lips, and you couldn’t agree more. It only takes you a few seconds to strip off all your clothes, leaving you just as bare as she is. Her hand is cold when it touches your stomach and you flinch under it, but she grabs you, pulling you on top as she flips over onto her back. This is your favorite position, you love being on top of her, looking in her eyes as she comes undone underneath you.

The two of you fall into the groove easily, you know each other’s bodies too well, too intimately. You could say with confidence that nobody knows your body the way that she does, no one can make you feel how she does, no one can make you finish as quickly as she does. She’s too perfect, too good, too delicious, you want to go down but you already know her rule. She always finishes last.

So you let her pull you back into her mouth, licking in hungrily, your chests finally touching in all its rawness. You grind down, letting out of moan into her open mouth. You know what turns her on, you know how to get her started. Her hands grip your hips and the movement starts out slow but the more you feel yourself on her, the faster and harder it gets. You thrust yourself on her over and over again, quick and untamed. You can feel her fingers gripping your hips but it doesn’t matter that they’ll be a bruise there later. Sevika has always gotten off on you getting off, and when you let out a greedy moan, you can hear her breathing pick up. She’s watching you with hungry eyes.

“Fuck, Sevika…” You groan softly, slowing your pace, you don’t want to cum yet, you’ve been waiting all week for this, it’s going to last longer than a few minutes.

“Tell me what you want.” She whispers, her breath on your neck.

“Touch me, please.” You push her hand down and she gets with the program quickly, her fingers working their way into you with a swift movement. You let out a deep moan, your head falling back as you begin to move your hips, riding her fingers. It’s slow, you let yourself feel her inside of you as she thrusts her fingers in and out of you.

With her new arm, that you’ll ask her about later, she grabs the back of your head and pulls you forward so you’re face to face with her. She’s looking at you hungrily, like she needs you just as much as you need her right now. Your eyes are locked as you begin to shake, knowing what’s about to come. Your mouth falls open and a breathy moan spills from your lips. Sevika doesn’t waste any time before sticking her tongue in your mouth, a twin moan she tries to hide.

You love this, her noises that you imagine only you can bring out of her. The two of you breathe heavily against each other for a moment before you crack a smile, “I didn’t want to cum so quickly.”

Sevika smirks, “Don’t worry, it won’t be the last time tonight.”

You can’t help but surge forward, pulling her into a kiss and wrapping your arms around her neck. She’s gorgeous in this light, the softest you’ve ever seen her. You want to feel her in your mouth, every part of her.

So you do.

You start at her neck, kissing, biting, licking, leaving the same marks that she never lets you leave without. Then you move down to her chest, kissing here and here and here until you finally suck a nipple into your mouth. You’ve tasted Sevika before, but never like this. You’ve never been in control, and the fact that Sevika is relinquishing it so easily, submitting without hesitation makes you burn hot. You didn’t expect her head to fall back with a moan as you flicked your tongue, you never expected to see her like this underneath you.

So you go down farther and farther, kissing her everywhere, leaving dark marks in places you’ll see the next time you see her. The sight of Sevika opening her legs, inviting you in, is absolutely breathtaking.

On your knees, Sevika spread out in front of you, and the deep hunger inside of you, you don’t even hesitate to lick her open. Your hands grip her thighs as her back begins to arch. You look up only to see her eyes squeezing shut as she bites down on her bottom lip.

Her hips rise and fall, she wants more and you’re are more than willing to provide. You use your fingers as a companion to your tongue, she gasps when you slide them in. You want to hear her, for her to let go of her bottom lip and let it all out.

Her face shoots up when you stop, you meet her gaze, “I want to hear you, Sev.” You mutter, loving the taste of her on your lips, knowing that she can see herself on your mouth. God, she’s ravishing. A sight so unlike anything you have ever seen before. You want to devour her.

She grits her teeth and grabs a fistful of your hair, pushing you back down. You get back to work instantly, and this time, you go in with both at the same time, releasing a gorgeous moan from her lips. It’s untamed and loud. You’ve never heard anything that made you feel the way that did. If you are undoing Sevika now, then what are you already? It’s more than that. You are rendered useless with her. She has undone you so many times that you don’t even know what it feels like to be whole unless you’re with her.

It’s stupid, but it’s true.

You don’t know how long you go for, it doesn’t matter, you’d go forever if it meant you’d hear her moan your name as her legs shake. You go until she’s dripping down your chin and she’s breathing so heavily that she can barely kiss you. But it’s worth it.

You collapse next to her when you pull away from the kiss and let her catch her breath.

//

Sevika wasn’t lying when she said there would be more time. You don’t know how it happened, but at some point, Sevika ends up on top of you, hands pinned above your head with her mechanical arm, a reassurance that you can’t move, and the other one wrapped around your throat. It’s not tight, but Sevika always had a habit of showing off her strength, proving that she’s stronger and quicker than you.

You squirmed a bit as her grip tightened and she slowly slid the strap inside of you. She does it so slowly that you can’t help but moan her name. She does it softly at first, pushing it in, pulling it out, making you beg for more. She wants you to ask for it.

“Sevika.” You say sternly. You can see the glint in her eye as she slows the pace even more. There are always moments like this after Sevika cums, she loses all shame, every wall that she’s built has fallen, sunken into the floor, there’s nothing left there now but a woman starved. She smiles, and it looks so genuinely soft and precious, unexpectedly the best thing you have ever seen. “Please.” You whisper, almost choking with the grip around your neck.

She leans forward, the grip loosening just a tad as she connects your lips. She kisses you like you just said the magic word, slow and meaningful, it lingers even when she pulls away. The room is dark but you can still see her face and if your hands weren’t held down, you’d touch it, feel it, trace every scar.

And then, without warning, she thrusts into you hard and rough and fast.

“Fuck!” Falls from your lips before you can stop it. It’s loud and for a moment, you hope her neighbors can’t hear you. But then you forget all about them because Sevika is fucking you to the point of ruin and all you can focus on is the way her brows furrow, focused solely on your pleasure. It feels fucking incredible. She feels fucking incredible.

You can’t hold on for long, you’ve never been able to. Sevika is too good, too sexy, and you’re too wet, too horny, too needy to hold on. It doesn’t take many more for your back to arch and a cry to come out. Sevika slides out slowly, never looking away as your orgasm hits its peak. You can barely breathe but you’re sky high and you never want this feeling to end.

She leans down and presses a chaste kiss to your jawline before slotting in next to you. The two of you breathe heavy for a minute before you turn to her, reaching out and running a finger over her new arm. “This is new.”

“That’s what you’re worried about right now?” She asks, still breathing too heavily to relax.

You laugh, leaning in closer to her. Her skin is sweaty and you love the feeling of your body pressed against hers. There’s no place you’d rather be. You kiss her shoulder, “It was just an observation.”

She turns towards you now too. Her eyes are gentle when they look at you, it’s somehow the most intimate you’ve felt with her. She’s mesmerizing to watch. So rough and hard around the edges. A fighter. But here, in this space, she’s soft when she wants to be, a beauty to look at, and warm to the touch.

“Just an observation.” She repeats.

You can’t stop yourself from reaching over, a previous desire you can’t ignore, and trace a scar on her face. She doesn’t flinch away, instead, she takes you by surprise, grabbing your hand and gently placing a kiss on your palm.

You’ve never felt like this before.

“You said you had a long day? Did this help?” You ask, almost sheepishly. You don’t know if it’s the right thing to ask, or if she’s even going to answer, but you really want to know.

A smile forms on her lips, she’s holding back a laugh by sticking her teeth into her bottom lip. “Yeah, it did.” And then she kisses you like she means it.

//

You don’t know how time passed so fast, but you’re clenching the headboard in front of you to keep steady as you ride her face when morning comes. Her hands are gripping your thighs tightly, you know they’ll be bruised in a few hours. She spreads you open farther, sticking her tongue deeper, pulling a loud, “Fuck,” from your lips. “Sevika, my god.”

//

You guys fall asleep at some point, not soon enough to get the right amount of sleep, but that’s something for later you to deal with. For now, you admire Sevika as she climbs out of bed, still naked and as stunning as the night before. You want to pull her back in, kiss her roughly, tell her that the outside world could go one day without her.

“What?” She asks, noticing you staring.

Your cheeks heat up with a smile. “Come here.”

She stops for a moment, just looking at you like you’re something dangerous, and then she climbs back over to you, hovering above your body. “Yes, Y/N?”

Your breath is quickening already, “Kiss me.” You whisper, knowing that if you raise your voice even a little bit, it’ll quiver. And you can’t think of anything more embarrassing than that.

Sevika obliges.

The kiss is, above all else, delicate. A stark contrast to what was going on only hours before.

You’d take her in your mouth right now if you could, spreading her open and licking and sucking until she’s a mess all over your face again. But you also knew there were limits to whatever was happening between the two of you, and right now it was good, fragile and soft, there was no need for it to be anything more than that. Not with Sevika’s busy schedule.

So you opted for seeing her on her terms.

“How much longer do you have?” You ask against her lips.

She shakes her head, “I’m late, actually.” It’s regretful? Almost. It’s something.

Your head falls back onto the pillow with a huff and Sevika smirks, “I know, love. I’d stay if I could, you know that.”

You don’t. Not really. She doesn’t normally express feelings like this, but you like it, so you’ll take it.

“When can I see you again?” You don’t normally ask this soon, but you can still feel her inside of you and the thought of not knowing when you’ll finally get her again makes you want to die.

She kisses you again, smiling against your lips. Maybe you should ask more often.

“What’re you doing tomorrow?”

You can’t help but smile at the question.