#you knocked down my brother. my baby brother.

[traveler-at-heart]

Doctor's In - Part 8

Summary: It's Thanksgiving, your first official holiday with Wanda. Someone stops by to create a little havoc.

Wanda Maximoff x F!R

All the houses look the same, at least to him. The navigation system in his rental car isn’t any better.

Or maybe his sister gave him a fake address just to mess with him.

After a while, he decides it’s enough, pulling over when he sees someone jogging around the neighborhood.

“Excuse me”

“Hey” the woman says, stopping. Her smile is wide, and Pietro’s taken aback by how friendly she seems with a stranger.

“I’m looking for an address, can you help me out?”

“Sure”

“It’s Hill Drive 216”

“Right, well all you have to do is drive straight ahead for five blocks. Then turn right and then left” the woman says, leaning over the car window. As she’s giving directions, he can’t help but stare at her toned legs in full display.

“I really appreciate it. Maybe I can buy you some coffee to thank you?”

“Sure. See ya around” she says with a smirk, running in the opposite direction. Pietro didn’t get her number, but he figures she might know Wanda. So they’ll meet again.

In no time, he finds Wanda’s house. The woman is already sitting in the porch, as if she can feel her twin brother coming.

“This was supposed to be a surprise. You don’t look surprised”

“You asked my neighbor for my address. She called to know if you were a creep so she’d call the cops on you”

“What? She was so nice. And she’s very hot. You should have told me you had hot neighbors”

Wanda gives him a cryptic smile, but he doesn’t have time to ask the meaning behind it, as Tommy and Billy come running down the stairs.

“Uncle Pietro!”

“Bratan” he says, allowing the boys to tackle him to the ground. “You’re so big! What is your mom feeding you two?”

The boys laugh, pulling him inside so they can tell him all about school, soccer and their videogames.

A half hour later, there’s a knock at the door.

“I’ll get it” he volunteers. To his surprise, the girl he spoke to earlier is on the other side. She’s now wearing jeans and a long sleeved sweater.

“Hey, Pietro”

“I didn’t… tell you my name”

But before he can connect the dots, Wanda walks past him, standing on her toes to kiss the woman.

“Hey, baby. Apparently you already met Pietro”

“Oh, yeah. Heard he was hoping to get a hot date out of some simple directions”

At that, his sister and her girlfriend let out a laugh, and he groans, hiding his face in his hands.

—

It was totally worth it, to see Pietro’s face as realization hit him. You were Wanda’s girlfriend.

He looks shocked, and embarrassed as you walk past him, Wanda’s hand in yours.

“At least the Maximoffs have consistency in their taste” you comment, making Wanda laugh and Pietro blushes.

“She never sent me a picture of you, ok? How was I to know?”

“I didn’t send it because I knew you’d fall for her and she is all mine” Wanda rolls her eyes, arms around your waist. You kiss her temple, smiling.

“Are you staying for Thanksgiving?” you ask, curious about his plans for the holidays.

“That’s the idea”

“You’re little buddy Rogers isn’t joining us?” you glare, so he knows you know what he tried to do.

“Oh, yeah. Heard you felt threatened by him. Still jealous, Y/N?”

“Jealous? I’m a Trauma surgeon, for goodness sake. What is your job, by the way? Snowboarding? Or do you call it snow? You know, like Ken in the Barbie movie”

“It gets me all the girl’s phone numbers” he arches an eyebrow.

“You certainly didn’t get mine”

“Stop it” Wanda laughs it off to ease the tension, standing between you two. “It’s Thanksgiving. The holidays. A time to forgive and enjoy”

“Fine,” he agrees. “Truce?”

“Not until you take the kids for a movie so we have an afternoon to ourselves” you say, because now that you’re back to work it’s been harder to get alone time with your girlfriend.

“Alright”

—

“It’s very important to me” Wanda says, stuttering lightly as you kiss down her neck.

“Of course, baby” you say, holding her hips as she tries to continue the conversation. She’s saying something against your lips, so you roll her nipple between your fingers, which makes her quiet for a few minutes.

Then, you’re between her legs when she starts talking again.

“He’s my brother, we’ve known each other our whole lives. I really want him to get to know you”

“Wanda” you sigh, defeated. You look up, with a smile at her disheveled state. “Can we not talk about your brother when I’m eating you out?”

“Sorry”

You kiss her thighs, going up to lie next to her.

“Or am I that bad at giving you head these days, baby?”

“It’s not that” she rushes to say, straddling your lap. Wanda pecks your lips to appease you, hands going up and down your arms. You squeeze her hips, encouraging her to continue. “But I mean it, I want you to get along”

“I was joking before. Mostly”

“Y/N” she whines and you smile.

“Ok, I just feel… the last time we almost broke up because he was trying to test me using Steve, right? I’m a bit butthurt about it, you know I’m proud and petty like that. And I’m not… I’ve never met someone’s family. I told you I’m not good with this relationship stuff”

“All you have to do is try” she says, leaning down to kiss you. “And absolutely nothing will break us apart, my love”

“Promise?”

“Swear” she says against your lips. You kiss her again, hands going down to her ass.

“Can I carry on now or would you like to talk about more family members?”

“Carry on” Wanda giggles when you flip her on her back, but those turn to moans pretty soon, feeling how your tongue works through her folds.

—

“Ok, guys, just like we practiced” Pietro says as he parks in the street, looking at the twins. They nod, staying inside the car while their uncle walks to the door.

“Hey, sestra… ah, seriously?!”

All he sees as he walks in is his sister’s head thrown back on the couch, and he can guess where you are.

“I thought you locked the door” Wanda reprimands you, but you just smirk, getting dressed. You make sure that only Pietro is within earshot when you smack Wanda’s ass, and she yelps.

The man is glaring when Wanda opens the door, her hair a mess and your shirt all wrinkled.

“Where are the kids? Why are they waiting in the car?”

In that moment, the twins open the car door, and you can see they are carrying a small, white dog. You want to cackle, because Pietro is so dead. But you keep a neutral expression, staying behind Wanda.

“You idiot” Wanda says, followed by a string of curses in Sokovian. You’ve never seen her this upset and it’s kinda hot.

“Come on, kids. Let’s go back to my place and bathe this little dude”

“No, please don’t leave me alone with her” Pietro pleads as Wanda pulls him by the ear.

“Sorry, I don’t want to be a witness to whatever it is she’ll do to you” you give him finger guns, hurrying back to take the kids to your place. It’s pretty obvious Wanda won’t appreciate you using her bathtub to take care of the pup.

“So, wanna tell me what happened?” you say once you’re in the bathroom.

“Well, we found Sparky outside the cinema. He was looking for food in the garbage and was so sad and alone”

“Do you think Mom will let us keep him?” Tommy says.

“Let’s take him to the vet tomorrow. Maybe he escaped home and his owners are looking for him”

The boys remain silent as you rinse the soap from Sparky’s fur. Of course, he shakes as soon as you’re done, drops of water flying everywhere. Billy and Tommy laugh, which makes you smile.

They had never brought up the subject of pets, but you have a feeling that it’s because Wanda had told them that the answer was going to be no, no matter what.

You use an old t-shirt and your blow dryer to get him all fluffy. He is a cute dog, that’s for sure.

“Come on, let’s get back home” you tell the kids, letting Tommy carry Sparky.

Pietro is in the porch, hand on his cheek as he sulks around the stairs. His ear is so red from all the pulling that Wanda did and you almost want to laugh.

“She won’t talk to me” he mumbles like a grumpy teenager.

“Jeez, I wonder why”

You walk inside, going straight to Wanda’s room. Still, you knock and let her know it’s you.

“Hey, love. Woah” as soon as you open the door she’s hugging you, and you don’t know if her tears are from anger or sadness. “I’m here, what’s wrong?”

“Pietro is so… immature! Why would he think it’s a good idea to bring a dog into my home? He is always like this. Now, I’ll have to tell the kids we can’t keep him and they will hate me”

“Wanda, they won’t hate you. Breathe for me” you run your hands up and down her back. “Here’s what we’ll do. Tomorrow I will drive with the kids to the vet, they’ll check for a microchip or anything else that tells us if he has a family”

“They always wanted a pet and I just couldn’t do it, it was too much work for one person and I…”

“And you are not alone anymore, ok? You have me. And as it happens, my family’s always had dogs. Don’t stress, leave it to me” you say, kissing her temple.

“Thank you. I’m staying here. Can you make sure the kids have dinner?”

“Of course, baby”

You make a couple of sandwiches and let the kids eat in the living room, while Sparky walks around and smells everything. It’s a good sign that he’s not peeing in every surface of the house.

Once the kids have dinner, you take the dog to the backyard, noticing the wooden fence needs some work, or Sparky will be able to escape.

Another thing on your list.

“Is Mom mad at us?” Billy asks when you’re upstairs, tucking them in. Sparky is in the corner, sleeping between Tommy’s shoes.

“Not at all, kiddo. She’s just not sure we can take care of Sparky. Dogs can be a lot of work, ya know?”

“Did you have dogs?” Tommy says from his bed and you nod.

“Yeah, we had all kinds of dogs. Big ones, small like Sparky. You have to walk them, feed them, take them to the doctor…”

“Maybe it is a lot of work” Billy says, dropping his shoulders.

“Hey, no worries, we will figure it out. Just make sure you’re nice to your mom. She just wants the best for everyone. Rest now. And Sparky doesn’t sleep on anyone’s bed, got it?”

The kids giggle at that, and you roll your eyes, knowing they’ll probably break that rule.

—

“We’re home” you announce.

“How did it go?” Wanda says, while Pietro is in the living room, pretending to read.

“No microchip. But he did get blood work and everything seems fine, we also got him dewormed and he can start with vaccination in two weeks”

“You know a lot about dogs” Pietro says, but shuts his mouth the minute Wanda turns to glare.

“So, yeah. We could call a shelter and ask if they can take him”

“But he would be in one of those cages, alone” Wanda says, sounding sad.

“I guess”

“Let’s just keep him until we figure something out” she decides, looking as the kids play with the dog in the front yard.

“Yeah, ok. We got him some kibble, plates, a new leash and a bed, so he’s all set. I’ll just have to fix the fence”

“Oh? Will you wear your tool belt?” she says, biting her lip. Pietro gags from his place in the couch. Wanda turns to scold him. “Keep it up and you’re staying in a hotel”

“Bossy. And mean. I love it” you say, pulling her closer. You share a quick, but passionate kiss.

“I could fix the fence” Pietro offers.

“You don’t even know how to drive a nail,” Wanda argues.

“I’m trying to do something nice, sestra”

“You’ve done enough”

They begin to argue like a couple of teenagers so you have to step between them, raising your hands.

“Enough. Pietro can help me when I fix the fence. We all win. Isn’t that great? Two of your favorite people working together” you say.

“Only one” Wanda says and Pietro is ready to fight when you snap your fingers.

“To your corner, Pietro” you warn him, dragging Wanda to the kitchen. “Hey, gorgeous”

“Mmm?” she melts when you rub that spot in her lower back that always relaxes her.

“I don’t think Pietro meant to do any harm with this. At most, he thought you’d end up loving Sparky more than me” Wanda laughs, and she leans against you. “He’s visiting and you’re always talking about how much you miss him, so try to forgive him”

“You’re right”

“You sound surprised,” you joke, kissing her softly. “I have work. I’ll be back tomorrow, ok?”

“Don’t leave. I know nothing about dogs” she pleads.

“I’m always one call away, love of my life” you promise.

—

Five missed calls. You sigh when you leave the OR, though it is from an unknown number.

Before you can return the call or contact Wanda to make sure she’s fine, Darcy finds you, dragging you by the hand without any explanation.

“Does this belong to you?” she says, pulling the curtain to reveal Pietro, holding an ice pack against his right hand.

“It belongs to my girlfriend”

“It? Seriously?” he complains, but Darcy ignores him.

“Came in with hammered fingers and cries every time I try to examine him”

“I will take a look. Thanks, pal” you force him to remove the ice pack, ignoring his protests. “What happened?”

“I tried to fix the fence”

“Mhm” you bend his fingers and move them around, trying to check if there’s a fracture. He complains and tries to jank his hand back, but you don’t let him.

“Can’t you take some X-Rays?”

Now, where’s the fun in that?

“Honestly, I think you’ll just have some swelling and pain. Let’s put a bandage in those three fingers and make sure you don’t move them too much”

“At least Wanda’s less mad at me”

You smile.

“Glad to hear it. Did she drive you here?”

“No, I wasn't in the mood to be lectured. I just told her I needed something from the hardware store and came straight to the ER”

You nod, writing a prescription for him. Once you’re done, you take the hand, bandaging the three fingers together.

“You know, I just worry” he interrupts the silence.

“About what?”

“Well, has she ever told you about the twins’ father?”

You glance back at him, arching an eyebrow.

“No, and I respect that. If she ever feels like telling me, I’m sure she will. So I’d appreciate it if we keep it at that, Pietro”

“I’ll just say, he was the biggest asshole. And it almost destroyed her. I promised myself no one would hurt her again”

You nod, still working in silence. Of course, the shovel talk. After the stunt he pulled with Rogers, this is nothing, really. Going along and nodding a few times might just do the trick.

“To be fair, I never liked him. You’re fine, I guess”

“I can live with being just fine in the eyes of Frosty the snowman” you mutter, finishing the bandaging and giving him some pills. “Now go back home and let me take care of the fence when I’m there”

An ambulance parks right outside of the ER and you excuse yourself. You don’t notice Pietro hanging back, watching as you help the paramedics move a woman from their gurney to a hospital bed.

It isn’t until a few hours later when you’re out of the OR and see a text from Wanda that you remember the incident.

Wanda: Thank you for checking Pietro.

Y/N: Happy to help the evil twin, love.

Wanda: What would that make me? The good twin?

Y/N: The hot, beautiful, angel twin.

The sound of your pager snaps you back to reality, which means the last hours of your shift will be busy.

—

“I should go and help”

“Please, don’t”

Wanda and Pietro are sitting in the backyard’s deck, watching as you fix the fence.

“Did you get Sparky as a test? To see how she’d react?”

“That is actually a great idea but no” Pietro laughs, stretching his arms. “I can’t believe you don’t remember”

“Remember what?”

“We were at school, back in Sokovia when we were five or six. The teacher asked us to draw our pet, but we didn’t have one so…”

“So you drew a dragon and said you wanted one for our birthday” Wanda suddenly remembers, frowning. “But what did I draw?”

“A white dog, with a very pink nose and fuzzy hair. And when we were at the theater, I saw him and thought, that’s my sister’s dog”

Wanda laughs, trying not to cry at her brother’s antics, wiping the corner of her eyes before she gets emotional. She reaches for his hand and he squeezes it, smiling.

“Why haven’t you told her about how you had the twins?” Pietro asks after a while, his voice soft.

“Because… I’m afraid she’ll see me differently. And I don’t know if it’s worth it, dwelling in the past. It’s done and nothing can change it”

“It’s not about dwelling in the past, it’s about sharing everything that makes you who you are. And that’s a big part of it” Pietro insists, standing up when the boys show up with Sparky. “We’re going to the park. See you for dinner”

Wanda stays on the deck, watching as you finish replacing the last wooden panel.

“I am so ready for a shower and a nap” you sigh, plopping down next to her. “At least Sparky can be out safely now”

“How can I pay for your very hard work?” Wanda says, and your hand squeezes her thigh.

“I can think of a few ways, Mrs. Maximoff. But when I’m not all sweaty”

“You’ll have to leave the toolbelt on, though” she says, making you laugh as you kiss the spot behind her ear.

You enjoy the breeze as you sit together on the deck, drinking a beer while Wanda looks out her yard.

“If I told you something, would you promise not to judge me?”

“I would never, my love” you say, putting a strand of hair behind her ear gently. “What is it?”

“It’s about the twins”

“Uh. Did Pietro put you up for this?” you click your tongue. “You don’t have to tell me anything; whatever the situation is, I imagine it’s not easy”

“I think… It would help explain why he’s so protective of me. And I want you to know, I do”

“Alright, then. I’m listening”

It takes her a moment to gather her thoughts, looking at her clasped hands.

“We met in college” she begins. “I was 20 and he was on an exchange program. Came from Oxford University, I think. We were in different faculties but somehow crossed paths at a party and got talking. It was the first time I was in love”

“He was elegant and acted like a gentleman, and said funny things without being crass. He acted differently than the rest of guys I ever tried to date. So we were together the whole semester, until winter break came. I was considering inviting him over to spend Christmas with us when he got an unexpected visit from his fiance”

You breathe deeply, knowing where this is going. Wanda still won’t look at you, and she takes a moment to continue.

“Uhm. So, yeah. The minute I saw them together I wanted to scream, but all I could do was hide. I felt like such an idiot. He didn’t even try to find me and apologize. And for a few weeks I was… sick. I threw up every morning, and felt tired. But I thought it was stress”

“Wanda, I’m so sorry” you say, pulling her close and kissing her temple. She leans against you, letting your touch ground her. Wanda’s hand goes to hold your own, and you squeeze it, trying to show your support.

“When I realized what it was, I tried talking to him. I thought he at least deserved to know. But he just wanted to give me some money to deal with it, in his words”

Those words make your heart ache, but you grit your teeth. You admire Pietro’s self control more than ever.

“I’m gonna need you to give me a name so I can find him and kill him”

“I let that go, for my sake. I had two babies to care for. No matter how it happened, I knew I always wanted them. So I told my parents everything and then Pietro, well…”

“He went crazy, I can imagine. Can’t really blame him”

“So, now you know it all. I still have things to figure out, because sometimes the kids ask me about their father and I don’t know how to tell them he never cared about us” she sighs, leaning against you.

“We’ll figure it out together, when the time comes” you promise, kissing her cheek. “And you don’t have to be afraid of me judging you, you did nothing wrong, Wands. I’m so sorry you had to go through that”

“I just thought… I wanted you to know”

“Did you ever see him again? I mean, does he even know their names?”

“No, and I hope it stays that way. If he comes back, I don’t want him anywhere near Tommy and Billy” her voice shakes with emotion, and a bit of her accent comes back.

“That’s ok. We won’t let it happen” you promise, kissing her temple.

“I love you”

“I love you too. And our boys”

“And our dog” she says, which makes you look back at her. She smiles at your shocked expression. “We’re keeping Sparky. No further comment”

“Yes, Ma’am”

—

The twins couldn’t believe it when Wanda told them they could keep Sparky. Pietro smiled as the kids hugged their mother, promising to always take care of him.

“You’re the best mom ever!” Tommy says, running around the living room.

“You’re welcome” Pietro mocks as he walks past her, and she elbows him.

You spend the evening watching a movie in the living room, Sparky sitting between both boys.

The 36 hour shift, coupled with the work on the backyard leaves you exhausted, so 15 minutes into the movie you begin to fall asleep.

“Come on, sweetheart” Wanda says when your head keeps loling to the side. “You need to rest”

“No, but I wanna know what happens with Big Welder” you mumble. Wanda stands up, kissing your forehead and pulling you all the way to the stairs. After brushing your teeth and almost sleeping while standing up, you plop down in bed, taking everything off and deciding to sleep in nothing but your underwear.

“Very tempting” Wanda comments when she sees you.

“I thought you’d be watching the movie” you stretch, appreciating how Wanda’s eyes linger on your breasts.

“Uh, they started playing video games. So that was my cue to go” she crawls into bed with you, not ready to go to sleep but wanting to share some alone time. “Before I forget, who are you inviting for Thanksgiving?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, dinner. We’re having turkey, the Barton’s are stopping by…. You do know it’s this Thursday, right?”

“I haven’t had a Thanksgiving dinner in like 15 years”

“You’re kidding” Wanda says, and you shrug your shoulders.

“I started volunteering when I was 16 to avoid being home. And you know I rarely went back for that stuff. I think the most I’ve done is eat pizza with Darcy while we’re working”

“Well, Darcy should come too! Have her over, I only get to see her at the hospital”

“You sure?” you say, smiling nervously. All you know about holidays in the last decade has been the chaos of a hospital.

“Yeah. It’s gonna be great, you’ll love it” she promises, kissing you.

—

Chaos isn’t exclusive to the ER, it seems. You’ve had a busy morning, mowing the lawn, cleaning the deck and getting ready to set a large table for everyone who’s joining. To your annoyance, Pietro is using his bruised hand as an excuse to not help.

“You’re doing great” he gives you a thumbs up and you want to throw the broom straight to his head.

“You could help your sister in the kitchen” you say, wiping the sweat from your forehead and coming to look over his shoulder. “Tinder? Seriously?”

“Yeah, check this out” he says, showing you some of the matches he’s had.

“Oh, wow” you whistle at a picture of a blonde woman in a bikini. You’re about to comment something else when you hear a cough behind you. Of course, Wanda is staring, her signature head tilt letting you know you’re in danger.

“I mean, oh, wow, what a horrible, unattractive person. Blegh. So not my type” you say, pretending to gag.

“I’m only letting it slide because it’s Thanksgiving” she warns and you nod.

“Yes, love. I’m sorry”

Pietro snorts and you turn to slap the back of his head.

“Sestra, are you gonna let her do that to your brother?”

“Yes” Wanda says, leaning forward to snatch his phone. “Come help me in the kitchen. Now”

“You know, I’m twelve minutes older” he says as they go back inside.

Once you’re done with mowing and picking up the dry leaves, you set a table across the backyard and some lights for extra decoration. Hoping the kids won’t look, you set up a trampoline you know they’ve been asking for.

“Alright, come supervise” you ask Wanda, and for some reason the entire Maximoff entourage follows behind.

“It looks amazing!” she says, inspecting the lights you installed. “I love these”

“I know. I may have stalked your Pinterest board, @witchy16”

“Billy, look!” Tommy points at the trampoline, running to try it out, his brother close behind.

“Be careful” Wanda warns. “I’m not sure I love that”

“They can use it only when I’m around” you promise, turning to her. “That way I can get more alone time with my girl”

Wanda laughs, but the sound is drowned out by your lips on hers, and your hands travel south to squeeze her ass.

“I’m right here!” Pietro complains, which makes you smirk.

“I didn’t see you, sorry” Wanda says.

“I did” you smile, earning a slap on the shoulder from your girlfriend. Something pings in the kitchen, so she excuses herself.

“You know, we usually save the presents for last”

“What presents? This isn’t Christmas” you say.

“People give each other presents during Thanksgiving too. Isn’t it obvious? How do you give thanks to someone? You get them something” he insists, which makes you doubt yourself. Pietro leaves to join the twins on the trampoline.

Maybe he’s right. What if Wanda got you something and after everything she’s done to make sure you enjoy this holiday, you have nothing to give back.

Fuck.

“Hey, sweetheart. Are you done in the backyard?” Wanda says when you walk in.

“I… yeah. Do you want me to do anything else?”

“No, that’s fine. I’m just letting everything in the oven for now. Come sit” 

“Actually… I need to go check something” you lie, feeling awful about it. But you have to get her a present.

“At the hospital?”

“Yes. I won’t take long, I promise” you say when she looks disappointed. “I’ll be back in an hour and I’ll help with whatever’s missing” 

“I just want us to spend time together,” she smiles, taking your hands. You lean forward, kissing her. “Oh, and call Darcy, I just want to confirm she’s coming”

“Yes, my love” 

Pretending to be super calm, you walk to your car. You only let panic take over when you’re driving around, finding the traffic to be awful. Seems like people always leave everything for the last minute, and you hate yourself for not thinking about this sooner.

You can’t let Wanda down.

Darcy’s the only person who can help out, so you call her while you try to find a place to park.

“Hello”

“Hey. Wanda wanted to confirm you’re coming to dinner”

“I am, only for the amazing food. But the hospital will page me if there’s an emergency so don’t expect me to stay for long”

“Got it. By the way, did uh, your family happen to give each other presents during Thanksgiving?”

“No, they only get drunk and yell at each other. Why? Do I have to bring a present? Because then I’m out”

“No, that was just me being stupid, never mind. See you at seven”

You hang up, leaving the car to walk around the shops. Most of them are closed, because of course, it’s a holiday. The only places still working are supermarkets. So, what? Will you have to get your perfect girlfriend toilet paper and say “happy holidays”?

After walking down several blocks, you finally find a jewelry store open. 

“Welcome. How can I help you?” a woman says.

“Hi. I can’t believe you’re open at this time of day” you comment, looking around the store. Wanda never really wears bracelets, or earrings. Necklaces, yes. Though they’re always very discreet. 

“You wouldn’t believe the amount of people who have to buy a peace offering for the holidays” 

“Huh”

“Or last minute engagements” 

“Oh. That’s definitely not the case” you smile, and something behind the woman catches your eye. “That’s a nice pearl necklace”

The woman puts on her sales hat, telling you every detail about the very elegant, very real pearls and how it is an absolute must for any woman. It honestly doesn’t take a lot of convincing. It’s beautiful and you remember how Wanda mentioned she always wanted one, but considered it a bit of a silly expense with two kids and no real use for it.

“I’ll take it” 

“You don’t want to look at the price?”

“I imagine it’s those four figures there”

“Yes”

“Yeah. That’s fine. I’m a trauma surgeon” you explain with a smile, feeling a little smug. 

“She’s a lucky lady”

You don’t really agree, considering this is very last minute. For the twins, you decide to take some of the Christmas presents you started to buy for them and store at your house.

And as much as Pietro annoys you, you’ll have to get him something too. 

Looking at the time, you decide to keep shopping for a bit longer, hoping no one notices if you’re gone too long. 

Wanda definitely notices. By the time you come back home, you’re sneaking around with a few boxes but she comes out of the kitchen.

“Where have you been?” 

Her tone makes you jump, and you look at her with wide eyes.

“I…”

“Doesn’t matter. I need you to go to the supermarket and get me some boxes of mac and cheese for all the kids. And a few bottles of wine, in case Laura and Clint stay longer” 

“Ok” you say, wishing she had called you since you were around the supermarket not long ago. 

By the time you finish all her errands, it’s four and you’ll only have an hour or two to rest. 

“Hey, here’s everything you asked for” you greet with a smile, hoping Wanda is less stressed now.

“Oh, thank you, sweetheart. I think the Bartons aren’t even staying for dinner so I made you go for no reason, I’m sorry”

“It’s ok” you say, putting your arms around her. “What’s wrong?”

“I want this to be perfect. For you to know that having a family is nice so you won’t…” she trails off, trying not to look at you.

“So I won’t, what?”

“So you won’t leave. It’s silly”

“Hey, I’d never leave… sorry” you grumble, looking at your phone and ignoring the call.

“If you need to pick up...”

“It’s just my landlord asking about the lease renewal” you roll your eyes which makes her laugh. “As I was saying, I don’t need a perfect Thanksgiving as a reason to stay. I love you. That’s it”

“I love you too” she smiles, leaning forward to kiss you. With your hands on her cheeks, you deepen the kiss, enjoying how she sighs against your lips when your tongue darts out. Then, your hands travel south to squeeze her ass, encouraging her to put her legs around your waist. 

“Hey, can we…? Ugh, not again” Pietro says, covering his eyes. “We’re thirsty”

Without dropping Wanda, you go through the stuff in the fridge and hand him some drinks.

“We’ll be upstairs, don’t go up in… 20 minutes” you say, making Wanda giggle.

“You guys are gross,” Pietro complains, crashing against the table as he keeps his eyes closed.

“Come on, let’s make those 20 minutes count” you say, carrying Wanda to the bedroom.

—

The Bartons arrive at 7, just like Wanda told them to. Sparky is the main attraction, as all the kids coo and aw at the funky little dog that loves all the attention.

“Pietro, nice to finally meet you. I’ve heard so much about you” Laura says.

“Only good things, I hope”

“That must have been a short conversation” you laugh at your own joke, while Pietro glares.

The kids run around the yard as Laura and Wanda chat, Clint handing over Nathaniel to you while Pietro talks about his job.

Darcy shows up a little later, and you make your rounds, introducing her to everyone that hasn’t met her yet. 

“You again” she says when her eyes land on Pietro. 

“What? You’ve heard a lot about me too?” 

“Yeah, mostly bad shit”

“Bad word” all the kids turn to point at her, and she facepalms.

“Fuck”

“Two bad words!” Cooper says. Laura covers Lila’s ears, though she is laughing. You clasp your hands over Darcy‘s mouth because you know she can keep going forever.

“Kids, have you tried going on our brand new trampoline? You can take Sparky with you” that gets them distracted enough, running away to the backyard. “There. Don’t worry, it took me a minute to get used to the no swearing”

“This is why I don’t hang out at PG-13 events. Anyways, I brought some stuff to make pumpkin cocktails and guacamole. Help yourselves” Darcy says, holding a bag of tortilla chips.

“Nobody eats guacamole at Thanksgiving” Pietro says. 

“They do if they’re Mexican. We can pretend. I’ll call you Pedro all night long” Darcy says just to annoy him. “Plus, this is all I can make” 

“Are all surgeons bad cooks?” Wanda teases, and you’re dumb enough to answer honestly.

“Not all! Carol is actually a great… huh” you scratch the back of your neck at Wanda’s glare. 

“Someone’s in trouble,” Pietro guesses.

“Yeah” Wanda tilts her head, making you smile weakly. 

“I’m making cocktails” Darcy interrupts everyone, dragging you to the kitchen. For a while, you talk about some patients that arrived during the day, but it was still a strangely calm shift at the hospital. It was usually busy during dinner or after that some people got injured, while driving back home. 

“Take this to Wanda, that will make her forget that Carol comment” 

Approaching slowly, you put the drink in front of your girlfriend, who takes a sip and then coughs.

“Wow, what is this?” she laughs, the alcohol strong enough to knock her off her feet.

“A fire hazard” Clint comments, able to smell it across the table. Still, Wanda sips on the drink and nods, enjoying the taste.

“Go easy, Miss Maximoff” you joke, which makes her smile.

“I still remember why I’m mad at you”

“Then forget what I said, take these like tequila shots”

“Carol is an ex,” Pietro says, putting together the information. 

“As in Carol Danvers? Nice” Clint comments, earning a slap on the arm by Laura.

“Thread carefully” 

“Ah, jeez. Look what you made me do” Clint laughs, looking at you.

“Pumpkin cocktail for Laura coming right up”

“I’ll bring it, I have to check the turkey” Wanda says, slightly slurring her words. 

“If you go anywhere near the oven, leave that thing here” Clint points out, not wanting to put out fires on his day off.

You take Wanda’s place, sipping casually on the rest of her drink. Everyone stares as you don’t even make a face to the amount of alcohol on it.

“We’ve known each other since college” you explain. ”So this is just like drinking water”

While you keep chatting in the backyard, Darcy and Wanda are both in the kitchen, your friend making herself a drink while Wanda turns off the oven to get the turkey ready.

“Want another cocktail?” she says, pushing a glass towards Wanda. The woman grabs it, sipping again. The sweet taste of the pumpkin hides a bit of the alcohol, so the punch isn’t hitting quite yet. 

“Listen, I know your brother already gave my friend the shovel talk” 

“Really? When?” Wanda says, a little too loudly. 

”Back in the hospital. And I had to hold off on mine because you were always in my territory and I didn’t want to seem like a bully. However, now is the time to tell you… she’s my best friend, has been since college. Life hasn’t been particularly fair and her mother certainly didn’t help, though I’m sure she’s made it seem like no big deal, but Y/N really does deserve someone nice and kind. So don’t break her heart. Under any circumstance”

“I’m not planning to, Daisy” Wanda nods her head, her thoughts a little fuzzy.

“Nobody plans to hurt someone they love. And I’m Darcy”

“I’m a little drunk” Wanda clicks her tongue, leaning on Darcy as they go back to the backyard. 

“Everything ok, love?” you say when Wanda comes back, and to your surprise, she sits on your lap instead of a chair.

“These things are strong. A couple more and I’ll consider doing that thing you wanted to try in bed”

“Oh, dear God” you blush, while Clint, Laura and Darcy whistle. Pietro covers his ears, gagging. “No more cocktails for you… at least with the kids around”

The Bartons stay a little while longer, eating and drinking until Lila and Cooper approach Clint.

“Can we get a dog?”

“That’s our cue to go” he sighs, standing up.

“Please, we want one!” Lila insists, and you laugh at Clint’s defeated expression.

“We’ll see” he compromises. “Come on, we gotta stop by at your grandparents”

They leave, thanking you for the food and you promise to take the twins and Sparky to play at the farm very soon.

Pietro finally gets off his ass to bring the turkey, which looks absolutely delicious. He carves it, saving the biggest piece for his sister.

“I love Thanksgiving” you say, enjoying what’s probably the best meal you’ve ever had.

“Me too” Darcy agrees, getting seconds and thirds of everything. Truth be told, you never get to sit around and eat as much as you like so this is a total luxury for a workaholic doctor.

As you’re finishing up, Wanda takes out a pecan pie. 

“I’m in heaven” Darcy comments upon the first bite.

On the other hand, you cannot hold back a moan, which makes Wanda bite her lip, one of her hands going to squeeze your thigh. 

“Hey, quick question, will you marry me?” Darcy says to Wanda and you elbow her.

“Right in front of my pecan pie?”

“I’m just saying, if you don’t, I will”

“She better get a ring then” Wanda says, smiling at you. Your mind goes back to the woman at the shop, telling you about those last minute engagements.

Surprisingly, Pietro is the one that changes the subject.

“You know what I always find funny? How the flavor makes my throat all tingly. And my tongue numb”

Everyone looks at him in silence, until Darcy speaks.

“That’s an allergic reaction”

“What? No” Pietro dismisses her point.

“It is” you insist, which earns another hand gesture from the man. “Oh, you’re right, what do we know? We only went to medical school”

“You’re so dumb” Wanda says, laughing and holding her sides. “You’ve been allergic our whole lives? Oh, my God!”

“Very funny, sestra. But now you can’t make this anymore”

“Hey, eat a granola bar or something” Darcy snaps, getting a second slice. “Why should we pay the price for your weakness?”

“Let’s finish the pie so he doesn’t get an allergy” you tease.

Darcy and you keep eating while Pietro is instructed to clean up the table and load the dishwasher. As the celebration ends, Darcy goes back home with tons of leftovers.

“I’ll walk you out ” you say, accompanying your friend. As you’re chatting, your phone rings again.

“Your mother?” Darcy guesses when you ignore the call. You click your tongue, putting the phone back in your pocket. “Let me guess, she’s calling for the usual wish you were here bullshit while never calling in advance”

“Yeah, that’s our thing. This year I’m not in the mood to do it, though”

“Well, she’ll hopefully get the hint” Darcy’s pager goes off and she sighs. “There it is”

“Want me to tag along?”

“It’s fine. I’ll call if it gets too crazy. Bye, pal”

You wave as she drives away, walking back with Sparky. For a second, you feel guilty and think about calling your mother back, but this day has been perfect and you don’t want to ruin it.

“Hey, kiddos, did you have fun?” you ruffle Tommy’s hair when you get home, getting Sparky his dinner.

“Yeah, it was awesome!”

“Well, you better check your rooms because I got you a little present”

As usual, Tommy is faster, but Billy is right behind him, both of them shouting excitedly.

“What is all that noise?” Wanda says, alarmed.

“Just following tradition” you explain with a smile, waiting for the kids to open their presents.

“What tradition?” Wanda says, looking confused.

“Thanksgiving presents”

Then you hear it. Pietro snorts a laughter from his spot in the kitchen.

Motherfucker.

“I’m gonna kill you, Evil Twin” you say, going straight to where he’s standing. Pietro runs around the kitchen island, putting distance between you two.

“Stop it, you two!” Wanda says, hands on her hips.

“Sorry, love. But he’s got it coming” you throw a towel his way, and take advantage of the distraction to jump over the counter, falling on top of him.

“Cool!” Billy says, watching as you have Pietro in a headlock.

“How are you so strong?” he complains, unable to free himself.

“I’m in the ER, do you really think I don’t have to deal with drunk assholes?”

“Enough!” Wanda shouts, pulling you by the belt loop of your pants until you’re off balance. “Explain” she asks standing between you two.

“He told me you gave each other presents during Thanksgiving!”

“We love ours!” Tommy says, showing the stands for their controls. You smile, fixing your shirt.

“Well, you’re the only ones getting one. Your uncle is definitely not”

“You got me something?”

“Yes, and it was a damn good present” you smile, knowing the curiosity will drive him crazy.

“Come on, can I have it?”

“No” Wanda and you say at the same time.

You make fun of him, and then Wanda tilts her head.

“Did you get me something?”

“Of course I did” you pat the back of your jeans, finding the necklace box there. “Here”

Wanda’s eyes widen as soon as she opens it, her hand covering her mouth.

“What? You don’t like it? I can return it. Or maybe I can’t. But you don’t have to wear it” you rant, afraid that it’s too much for a tradition that isn’t even real.

“Sweetheart, stop” she says, smiling. “I-I love it. Thank you”

“Well, I love you” you lean forward, letting her kiss you. Billy and Tommy protest at the contact, something that they have unfortunately picked up from their uncle.

“Can I have my present? Please?” Pietro says.

“No, wait until Christmas” you say.

“And for this little joke you’re gonna clean the kitchen” Wanda says, pointing at all the dirty pots and pans.

“My joke got you a pearl necklace”

“Chop, chop, Pietro” she ignores him, pushing the kids upstairs so they can get ready for bed. “You two stink, go and take a shower”

“Where do you want me, Bossypants?” you joke, standing next to her.

“Mhm” she smiles, leaning forward to whisper in your ear. “You like it when I’m bossy?”

“Yes, Ma’am”

“Then go shower too. And stay in bed. You were running around all day”

“Wanna join me in the shower?”

“I’ll help Pietro clean. Or we’ll never hear the end of it” she says, smiling when you pull her close, kissing her cheek.

“Don’t be long”

By the time Wanda comes up, you’re asleep, wearing nothing but shorts and a t-shirt.

The gentleness of her lips against your neck wakes you up with a shudder, and you bring your hand to rub up and down her back.

“Are you done with cleaning?” you say, trying not to yawn. Wanda’s teeth, marking the spot between your shoulder and neck jolt you awake. “Baby?”

“You always give me so much. I want to thank you” she says, moving down your lap. You lean on your elbows, unsure if you’re understanding what she’s saying.

“Wanda?” you’re about to ask something else, but the words get stuck in your throat when you feel her rubbing her nose against your clit through your shorts. “I… uh…”

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing is wrong” you say, having trouble breathing when she pulls down your shorts, revealing you’re not wearing any underwear.

“Perfect” Wanda smiles, leaning down. You can tell she’s hovering, teasing you with anticipation. Even when she kisses the inside of your thighs, it feels heavenly.

You make the mistake of looking down, and Wanda’s eyes meet yours. She has a predatory smirk on her face, one you’ve never seen before. She knows how much you want this, she can see it, smell it. You’re about to plead for her to continue when she goes down, tongue licking a strip down your center.

“Fuck” you say, your legs instantly going to close around her head. You’re so sensitive and she’s sucking on your clit with such abandonment. Wanda lets you ride her face, enjoying the feeling of your juices coating every inch of her chin.

When you’re close to coming, she manages to pull free of your hold, pushing her hair back. Her chest is heaving, face glistening with your arousal.

“Wha-“ she doesn’t let you finish, pulling down her own shorts, and crawling on top of you.

“I want you to come with me” she sighs against your mouth, allowing you to taste yourself. Her pussy comes in contact with yours, eyes rolling to the back of your head as you feel her wetness.

“Be quiet for me” she hisses, though there’s certain tenderness in her voice. Her palm covers your mouth, and Wanda only moves when you nod, pushing her hips against yours.

“Wanda” you plead, not knowing exactly what you’re after. Even though she’s also getting pleasure out of this, she’s still very much in control, keeping you steady as she rocks her hips, setting the pace.

As your breathing quickens, Wanda picks up the pace, and your arm snakes around her waist, pulling her closer until she drops her body on top of yours, moving and panting next to your ear.

“I’m close” you breathe, and the way she bites down your neck is what pushes you over the edge, letting out a groan and a string of curse words that would put your best friend to shame.

Wanda’s release follows, and you let her dig her nails in your shoulders as she comes. She relaxes against your chest, her heart slowing down as you run your hand up and down her back.

You don’t need to look to know there’s a mess of sheets and clothes around you. Wanda is too far gone to care, the intensity of her orgasm and the exhaustion of the day making her doze off.

“Can we make this into a tradition?” you whisper against her temple. She laughs, cuddling against your side.

“Totally”

—

Wanda: Hey

Y/N: Hey, gorgeous

Wanda: Miss you

Y/N: Miss you more.

Y/N: Thinking about that mindblowing orgasm too.

“Someone got laid for Thanksgiving” Carol reads over your shoulder and you huff.

“Mind your business, Danvers”

“Darcy said it was the best meal of her life. What do we have to do to get invited next year?” she says as you walk down the hospital halls.

“Go back in time and not sleep with me”

“Damn. Wanda’s still jealous? Would it change if I’m a married gal?”

“You set a date?” you stop Carol, excited to hear more.

“Your invitation should be in the mail soon”

“Congrats!” you smile, pulling her for a hug.

“There’s one more thing… I was wondering if you’d be my maid of honor…”

The request catches you completely off guard. Carol had been your friend since you arrived at the hospital, but considering everything that happened, you’d figure Maria wouldn’t be comfortable with that.

“I mean… I would love to, but Maria”

“She’s fine with it. Understands it was just a distraction”

“Aww, that makes me feel so special” you put your hands over your chest, sighing dramatically.

“You know what I mean” Carol says, making you walk to the ER. “So, you in? You’ll have to do dress fittings. Organize a bachelorette party. Make sure I’m there on time”

“Fine, yes. Oh, did I mention we got a dog?”

On the way to the ER, you show Carol a bunch of pictures of Sparky, and she’s still obsessing over his funky hair when you find Kate, finishing some charts.

“How was your night, Bishop?”

“A bit crazy. Some accidents on the road, and cuts with kitchen knives… but it’s been pretty quiet now”

Carol gasps and you want to scream.

“Don’t say the q word, Bishop” you plead.

“Why?”

Two ambulances park right outside and you nod towards them.

“That’s why”

True to the lore, the word quiet attracts a wave of emergencies and freak accidents that take up most of your shift.

That’s not what has you on the edge of a nervouse breakdown, though.

During your first break of the night, you answer a text from Wanda, telling her you’ll be sure to be there for Pietro’s dinner tomorrow, as he’s finally leaving on Monday morning.

No one ever leaves a voicemail so you check out the notification, and you wish you hadn’t.

“For someone who works in the ER, you sure as hell aren’t around for family emergencies” your mother says. “Well, it’s not really an emergency, but you get my point. We’re gonna be in town, Jane’s probably applying to Westview university next year. Call me when you can, it would help if you give us a tour around the city. And pick up the damn phone, it’s Thanksgiving”

Kate finds you in that moment, making you jump out of your seat.

“You wanted me to…”

“Follow up with the patient in 403, yes. I’m going out for a while. Call me if it’s urgent”

The first thing you want to do is throw your phone away, but you settle for walking to a nearby store, looking for a pack of cigarrettes and a lighter. If you didn’t have a shift to go back to, you’d certainly get a bottle of cheap booze.

As you sit on the sidewalk, your hands tremble when you light up a cigarrette. It’s been ten minutes and you’re through the third one when Darcy stops by.

“What’s the matter with you?”

Since you can’t find the strenght to explain it, you hand over your phone. Your friend physically recoils at the sound of your mother’s voice, that’s how much she dislikes her.

“I’m sorry” Darcy says, sitting next to you. “She might not even make time to see you, she’s probably just pretending, like with every holiday”

“It’s not just that, Darcy. What if Jane goes to Westview University? I’m going to… I’m going to be worrying about whether or not she’ll be around. If her daughter needs anything, she’ll call me, if something goes wrong and I don’t find a way to fix it immediately, I’ll be the screw up of a daughter who never cares about her family. I’m gonna have to move, there’s just no way I can…”

“Slow down” Darcy sits next to you, her hand on your shoulder. Her touch helps you stay calm, and you breathe slowly. “That’s a massive if. You don’t know if it’s happening. And we’re both very much aware that you could do everything your mother asks and it still wouldn’t be enough. Don’t let her control you”

“I don’t know how” you admit, your voice breaking down.

“That’s ok” Darcy pulls you in, hugging you. “We’ll figure it out. Or just take her to the nastiest places in town, she’ll never let Jane come here again”

You let out a laugh at that, wiping your tears.

“I love you, friend” you say, feeling exhausted.

“Ugh, you always get so emotional when that witch is lurking around. Careful or you’ll end up proposing to Wanda”

“I don’t want my mother anywhere near Wanda. If she says anything hurtful to her, I swear to God she’ll really regret the minute she pushed me out of her fucking insides”

“Damn, bitch, now that’s the fire I want to see in you” Darcy claps, pulling you up. “Come back inside. Heard it’s been non stop since your minion summoned the entire city”

“Yeah, she said the q word”

“Queef” Darcy sighs and you cackle.

“Sassy queef”

—

The last thing you want to do when your shift is over is have dinner and be social, but you promised Wanda.

So you walk through the door with a smile on your face and some flowers for your girlfriend. Wanda greets you with a kiss, but quickly pulls apart.

“Did you smoke?”

“Uh…”

Seems like the entire pack of gum after smoking for the last 48 hours didn’t do the trick.

“Yes, sorry. I’ll go use some mouthwash and change clothes”

“Hold on” Wanda pulls your hand, looking at you. “What’s wrong? You only smoke if you’re stressed”

“Sestra!” her brother calls, and you’re actually grateful for the interruption.

“I’ll tell you later. Pietro needs your help”

Thankfully the conversation centers on the other Maximoff and his plans for the upcoming weeks, now that the conditions seem more favorable for snowboarding.

You ask a question here and there, but mostly keep to yourself, eating the chicken paprikash and drinking wine. Yeah, you definitely drink a couple of glasses to keep your cool.

If Wanda notices, she keeps it to herself once again.

“Well, sounds like you’ll be needing a pair of brand new gloves” you say to Pietro at one point, taking out a box from behind the tv. “Hidden in plain sight”

“She’s a keeper!” he exclaims when he notices the fine material. “I’m definitely coming back for Christmas now”

“Hey, you better get me something nice too”

You’re halfway the second bottle of wine when everyone’s done with dinner, and the kids are debating between going for ice cream or watching a movie. It’s safer to stay in the kitchen, cleaning everything and hoping you can excuse yourself early.

Truth is, you really want to drink until you pass out but that would raise too many questions with Wanda.

“They settled on Jumanji” Wanda announces when you’re drying your hands.

“Mmkay. I’ll take Sparky out for his walk then” you volunteer, rushing to get his leash before she can ask anything else.

The cold air makes you sober up a little, remembering what Darcy told you.

Don’t let her control you, don’t let her ruin your life.

You’ve told Wanda your relationship with your mother is not the best, but how could you possibly explain that’s a wild understatement?

“Isn’t that the cutest dog?” Agatha greets Sparky, who wags his tail. “What’s their name?”

“Sparky”

“Oh, wow” Agatha waves her hand in front of her nose. “Booze and cigarrettes, did you have fun at the casino?”

“Uh…”

“Come on, I’ll get you a special tea. It always helps”

She rushes you to her porch, making you sit while Sparky is on your lap, comfortably napping.

“One cup of “specialty”. Hah! Get it? Special tea, specialty”

“Very clever… oh, wow! Does this have peppermint?”

“Yes, clever girl”

“My grandmother grew peppermint on her front yard. I always loved the smell of it… even the taste when she made tea” you smile, sipping slowly.

“Everything ok, kiddo?” she asks after a beat of silence.

“No, not really”

“Well, I’m here if you want to…” your neighbor says, petting Sparky.

“I mean, thank you, but I feel like I don’t have a lot of people to tell this to, without being judged. Because you know what it is? I fucking hate my mother, Agatha”

To your surprise, the woman let’s out a loud laugh.

“Oh, honey, please. Tell me about it. My mother was a witch”

“Is that figuratively or…”

“I mean, who knows. She was evil, that’s for sure” Agatha rolls her eyes, and then looks at you. “Yeah, I get it. Most people say that you have to love your family, just because you share blood. Blood is thicker than water, they say. Meanwhile, they don’t know the full phrase is the blood of the covenant is thicker than the water of the womb”

“Is that so?”

“Trust me, I know” Agatha nods. “My mother would tell me I was evil, I was bad. Just rotten to the core, in her own words.”

“I’m so sorry”

“Darling, you don’t owe anyone an explanation. You have your own family with the Brady bunch over there.”

“I guess a part of me still believes she’ll apologize”

“Don’t hold your breath. And if she doesn’t, it still doesn’t mean you did something to deserve her shit”

“Thank you, Agatha”

The woman pats your leg, smiling.

“My love, are you coming back to bed?” a voice says from the inside of her house and you almost snap your neck looking back.

“Coming, Rio”

“I had no idea I was interrupting, I’ll leave right now” you stutter, carrying Sparky down the steps of the woman’s porch.

“Don’t sweat it, hot stuff. She needed a break after everything we just did” Agatha winks.

“Good talk, bye Agatha, bye Rio” you wave your hand, running back home all flustered.

The kids are with their uncle watching tv when you go inside. You let Sparky go so he can sit on the couch with them, and go upstairs to get changed and sleep.

Once you’re settling in bed, Wanda pushes the door open, eyeing you curiously.

“Sweetheart” is all she says. It’s both a question and an affirmation.

“It’s been a long day” you admit, too tired to pretend you’re ok, but also not in the mood to explain everything.

Maybe your mother won’t even come, and you’ll have shown Wanda how broken and fucked up you are for no reason. She doesn’t need to know it. Not now, at least.

“Let me help” she offers, climbing on your lap, kissing every inch of your face. You hold on to her waist, digging your fingers in her flesh. “I love you”

“I know. I love you too” you smile, finally connecting her lips with yours. She’s meant to comfort you with her touch, not wanting to start something else, because everyone’s downstairs. But when you swipe your tongue across her bottom lip, Wanda lets out a groan, nails scrapping your scalp as you deepen the kiss.

“Please” you say, switching positions so she’s on her back, you on top. You don’t really know what you’re asking for, but she can sense your desperation, holding on to your shoulders.

“It’s ok. I’m here. Use me, love. Take me”

Those words spurr you on, making you go down to kiss her neck, unbuttoning her shirt and leaving a trail of marks all the way to her hips. You desperately pull at her pants, immediately going down on her, your touch impatient as Wanda covers her mouth to keep quiet.

“Please” she manages to ask, and you give her more, stretching her with two of your fingers. “More”

You’re happy to comply, adding another digit and working them in and out of her clenching cunt, while you go back to meet her lips in a messy kiss.

“I fucking love you” you say against her mouth, and that sends Wanda over the edge, arousal gushing out of her with each of your final thrusts.

“I was… supposed to make you feel better” she says, trying to catch her breath.

“Oh, trust me. You did”

Wanda laughs, looking at you lovingly while you kiss her temple.

“I love you too” she says when your lips meet hers for a quick kiss.

“I know. I’m very lovable”

Her laugh makes you forget all the bad shit you’ve been carrying with you for the last day and a half.

—

“Take care, brat” Wanda says, her arms going around her brother. “See you soon”

“Yes” he then says something in Sokovian, making Wanda laugh.

“Do you guys know what they’re saying?” you approach Billy and Tommy.

“No, mama hasn’t taught us any Sokovian”

“We think it’s so they can say bad words without getting caught”

“Huh”

“What is all that mumbling I’m hearing?” Wanda says, making you stand straight.

“Nothing” the three of you say at the same time, making her laugh.

“Relax, sestra. You two, be good while I’m gone. And if you’re not good…”

“Be careful” they finish the sentence, laughing.

“And you…” Pietro points at you. Wanda is about to intervene, thinking he’s about to give you another shovel talk. but you wink at her, smiling. “Welcome to the family”

“Thank you, Evil Twin. See you at Christmas”

“You’re dressing up as Santa this year” he says in a low voice and you laugh.

The man gets in his car, waving goodbye one last time.

“Alright, you two, we’re gonna be late for school” Wanda says, and the routine slips you back to reality.

“Hey” you say, pulling her close to you. Before she can answer, you kiss her, hands on her cheeks. She squeezes your wrists, smiling. “Do I really have to be Santa?”

“We’ll see” she laughs, kissing you once again. “Come on. We got a busy day ahead of ourselves”

You smile, letting her take you back home.

Whatever happens next, you just need Wanda to get through it.

[newtonsheffield]

“We’ll tell you when it gets close”

can we see Neddy finally meeting his new little brother?

Imagine how excited he is to see his baby brother. His poor Auntie Eddie is at her absolute limit with Neddy bouncing around.

“He’s here right?”

“He’s here.” Edwina confirmed, “And in a little bit I’ll take you to meet him and see Amma and Daddy.”

“Okay.” Neddy paused, “Has it been a little bit yet?”

“It hasn’t.” Edwina sighed. “It’s been seventeen seconds.”

“But I wanna see him!”

“Amma’s really tired, buddy. She just needs a bit of time.”

“Why? Is it hard getting a baby delivered?”

“Spoken like a true man, Neddy.” Edwina sighed, “It took hours and hours when you were born.”

She remembered it. She remembered how Kate’s hand had clasped hers so tightly, the other held in Mary’s. But she remembered the minute Neddy had been born, the look on Kate’s face and the tears that had run down her face when she held him for the first time. There’s been tears in Edwina’s eyes as well, watching the bond forming between mother and son, right in front of her.

“Nah I was quick.” Neddy shook his head.

“Oh were you?” Edwina chuckled, “Do you remember?”

Neddy paused, “Yeah I remember.”

“Silly boy.”

Neddy’s jumping up and down when they finally go to the hospital, desperate to see the new baby.

Neddy peered through the door when Edwina knocked and opened it, suddenly a little nervous.

“There’s the new big brother.” Anthony crouched down in front of his son, kissing his forehead. “Hey buddy, Auntie Eddie get you chippies?”

“Yeah! And ice cream.”

“Oh and ice cream? Amazing!”

“Is he here?” Neddy peered around Anthony, looking at his mother. “Amma? Are you okay?”

“Of course I am. I missed you Baby.”

Anthony picked him up, settling him on the bed next to Kate, letting him peer down at the tiny baby.

“This is my brother?”

“This is him.” Kate confirmed, “This is Miles.”

“Miles.” Neddy said quietly, “He’s little.”

“You were this little.” Kate hummed, “Maybe even littler.”

“No!” Neddy giggled. “I’ve always been big.”

“Do you want to hold him?”

Neddy nodded, “Can I? Am I big enough?”

“Daddy’ll help you a little.”

Neddy took a deep breath, “Okay.”

He stared down at the baby in his arms, “I’m a big brother now. I’m gonna be such a good one. We can teach Newtie tricks together. All sorts of cool stuff. And maybe next time we’ll get a little sister.”

“Jesus, give Amma a second, Neddy.”

[peppermintquartz]

(felt like adding something to this)

Buck stumbles out of bed and gets to his door before the knocking gets any more agitated. No one has texted him to say they're coming over, so it may be an irate neighbor here to complain about the KitchenAid.

He's not ready to see Tommy standing outside in a black fitted tee and tight jeans.

Tommy looks... different, in the week since he walked out on Buck. His shoulders aren't rounded and his posture is perfect. There's a sharpness to his jaw and his hair is gelled with a swoop. And he's wearing boots instead of his usual sneakers.

"Evan?"

Buck blinks. Something is wrong. This isn't how Tommy says his name, unless Tommy really doesn't -

"Tommy."

"No, not Tommy. I'm Donovan. Tommy is my younger brother - twins." He flashes a smile, and it's so similar to Tommy yet so different that Buck's mind is reeling. "He was supposed to introduce us next week, when I have time to come and stay for the weekend."

Inhaling sharply, Buck takes a step back. "He has a twin. Six months... What other secrets did he have? Maybe he's not even gay! M-maybe he has a, a wife and three kids and that's why-"

"Hey, Evan, breathe. Relax."

"Don't call me Evan," Buck snaps at Not-Tommy. Donovan. "Shit. This is... This is bullshit."

Donovan steps back and holds up his hands. "I don't know what I'm supposed to call you, because Tommy only ever talked about his 'boyfriend Evan' to me."

"Buck. You can call me Buck."

"And I prefer Rocker." Rolling his eyes at Buck's quizzical frown, he says, "Tommy and I are twins that didn't grow up together. Since we were eight, we've been living with different parents. Divorce. Mom got me, Dad got him. It sucked for Tommy and Mom tried her best, but, well."

"Still doesn't explain why Tommy didn't mention a twin."

"Look, can we talk inside?" Rocker asks.

Buck folds his arms and blocks the door. "No."

"Dude, I just wanna-"

"Donny!" The shout comes from the elevator. Buck looks over and his heart skips three beats. It's Tommy, the real one, and he looks an absolute mess. He's a little broader in the jaw and the features of his face softer, gentler. He's not shaven, there are bags under his eyes, and his hair is frizzy and tangled in the longer parts. The shirt he has on is a size larger and his jeans are relaxed fit and he has his blue Reeboks on.

That's his Tommy.

(His. His his his his his.)

"I'm trying to help," Rocker says, his hands on his hips.

Tommy makes a face and his mouth goes thin and unhappy. "You can't just show up at my boyfriend's place - ex-boyfriend. I meant." He clears his throat and glances at Buck. "Sorry. We'll leave."

"Hell we are," says Rocker. He slings an arm around his twin's waist and catches Tommy's free arm before he can land a punch. "Baby bro, I've taken down armed men who want to kill me. Your efforts are futile."

"You're the fucking worst."

Buck stares at the two, and exhales heavily. Stranger things have happened. He steps aside and says, "I've a walnut loaf and an apple pie that needs eating. Come on in."

As Tommy is dragged past him, Buck says, "If you call me Buck, I'll whack you with a rolling pin."

Donovan Rocker tilts his head and a delighted smile creeps onto his face. "Oh, so that's why I can't call you Evan!"

"This had better be good," Buck grumbles, even though he's secretly happy to shut and lock the door with Tommy in here with him. His brother can find his own way down from the balcony.

"Donny, not today."

"Hell you mean not today," Donovan Rocker pushes his way into his twin brother's house. "You drunk called me, crying about your boyfriend whom you were supposed to introduce to me next week, saying that you broke up 'for his own good', and you think I won't take a couple days off to check on you? Fat chance, fathead."

Tommy groans and drops onto his sofa. "Whatever, man."

"What happened?"

"He asked me to move in with him."

"Tommy that's awesome! You love the guy!"

Tommy cracks open an eye. "Donny, he didn't even tell me he loves me. And I have a fucking house, okay? I have a whole damned house which you are sitting in."

Rocker makes a face. "Did you say that to him?"

"Like that's gonna make a difference." Tommy shuts his eyes and tilts his head back. "Fuck. Fuck all this. At least now he doesn't have to know how shitty I am."

Humming in sympathy, Rocker sits next to Tommy and carefully gathers his twin into a hug. Tommy resists a little at first, but then gives in to lie on Rocker's shoulder, curling his socked feet onto the cushions.

"Sometimes I think Mom should've fought harder to have custody of us both," Rocker says quietly, after a while. "She'd have got that low self-esteem out of you somehow."

"Yeah, well. Wishes and horses."

Rocker kisses the top of his twin's head. "I'll stay here tonight, baby bro. Seems like you need someone in your corner."

"I'm only eight minutes younger," Tommy grumbles, but he doesn't chase Rocker away; his arms wrap more tightly around his twin, pretending it's not a different body he wants in his embrace.

[auteurdefeu]

Half-Strangers

I’ve only recently started working through NADDPOD so I just got to Trinyvale and I just. Jens and Nyack make me so sad. I can only hope it’ll get better by the end but right now, my heart is just hurting watching Jens disrespect everything about Nyack’s home in the jungle and his father :(( And right after a bit of character development when fighting his own dad !! talking about Nyack actually being fine and super supportive !! There is not enough brother bonding fics out there of them, I think I’ll have to change that myself when I get caught up

[fisheito]

hiya l'il-- medium?...large?? Assorted Sizes-Guy

oh thanks! i could always use more spices-

. what am i supposed to do with this.

[autumnmatt]

𝘨𝘰 𝘣𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘭𝘦𝘦𝘱 𝘣𝘢𝘣𝘺.

summary: matt is playing fornite with his two brothers and he gets to loud when he keeps losing, causing his girlfriend to wake up from her slumber.

classification: fluff

warnings: kissing, pet names, suggestive language, use of y/n

it was about 3 in the morning and you were fast asleep in yours and matts bed, snuggled up in a blanket with matts stuffed pug mr. wrinkleton tucked under your arm.

matt on the other hand was in the middle of a very intense fornite match with his brothers nick and chris. there were about 10 people left in that match and your boyfriend was very determined to win.

all was going good during the game play until him and his brothers came across this very sweaty team. “on me on me!! these kids are good I need backup quickkk” matt yelled to nick and chris through his headset.

he then faced one of the opposing teammates but of course he lost the battle between them and got knocked. “FUCKKKKK” he screamed out of frustration. nick also got killed a little while after matt did by the same person.

y/n wasn’t that much of a heavy sleeper so when he started to yell out, she shifted in bed a little opening up her eyes to see what the yelling was coming from.

she looked up and saw the bright screen in front of her with fornite being played along with her boyfriend sitting in his gaming chair banging on the desk from just getting killed. she puts the blanket over her head and closes her eyes in an attempt to fall back asleep.

“CHRIS DUDE YOURE SO BAD THOSE KIDS WERE ASS” matt yells, slamming his controller on the desk making a very loud sound that could be heard throughout the room.

y/n tossed and turned once more slowly losing the battle of getting back to sleep. so she got up, yanked the covers off of her body, and started sleepily walking over towards matt, dragging her feet with every step she took.

once she made it over to the chair where he sat she stood there, waiting for matt to realize she was standing here. and once he did he could see the pout forming on her lips, instantly feeling guilt for being so loud so late at night.

“oh baby I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you.” he frowned, muting his mic and taking his headset off then holding his arms out to her and patting his lap, inviting her to come sit down.

she straddled him and rested her head on his shoulder, enjoying the comfort of his warm body and taking in his familiar scent, the scent she loved most.

“go back to sleep baby, I promise I’ll keep it down”. he said and kissed the top of her head, wrapping his arms around her so that he could still have access to the controller also slowly rubbing up and down on her lower back.

“come to bed with me.” she groaned into his shoulder. she was already strarting to fall back asleep.

“of course I will baby.” he smiled taking his hands off the controller putting the headset on one last time to tells his brothers his was going to sleep. he shut of his computer, put his headset and controller up and gently picked her up to bring to the bed.

you wrapped your arms around his neck to prevent yourself from falling out of his arms. your face now buried into his chest.

he set you down on your side of the bed before walking over to his pulling the blanket over the both of you and situating the pillows so they were at a comfortable position under your heads.

you faced him for a few seconds to say your goodnights. you kissed his lips lazily before speaking. “goodnight I love you.” you spoke up, resting your head onto his chest and wrapping your arms around him.

“goodnight I love you too baby”. he said before wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you into him. he kissed your forehead before you slowly drifted off to sleep in each others arms.

a/n: AHHHH I think this is so cute. my 2nd story on here, thank you so much for the love on my first story and definitely send me some requests. hope you enjoyed this fic, love you all!!!

taglist: @stayingstromboli @conspiracy-ash

respond to this post to be apart of my taglist!

[peachysunrize]

The King’s Retribution ⥃ prince Aemond Targaryen

Summary: when he walks back to the Keep, Aemond finds his brother’s wife in distress while her youngest child keeps her awake. Maybe it’s time to show the King that no one can humiliate the one-eyed prince.

Warnings: 18+ mdni! Smut, p in v, rough sex, lactation kink, reader is Aegon’s wife, post B&C, s2e3 inspired, dacryphilia, Aemond feels humiliated after the brothel scene, hair pulling, doggystyle, they do it in Aegon’s rooms👀 kind of a chubby/overweight reader because she has baby weight, tell me if I’ve missed something. English isn’t my first language<3

Word count: 3.6k+

A/n: a very special thank you to @aemonds-holy-milk for this incredible request!!! And a very honorable mention and thank you to @arcielee for helping me with the plot and beta-ing for me! Your touch made this much hotter and better!🩷 Reblogs and comments are more than welcome<33

Aemond pushes the door to one of Maegor’s tunnels, peeking through to see if anyone is around. He scoffs when he finds the hallway empty, with no guards, no maids or handmaidens. He walks upstairs to the royal chamber’s floor, one hand pushing his hood off while the other twirls his dagger.

He is filled with such rage that he can burn this castle down without Vhagar’s help. The sting of humiliation keeps poking through his ribs, making him heave with each breath he takes. He had to keep his composure back in the brothel, he had to show his power by walking outside the room naked as the day he was born to regain some control his brother took away from him.

He walks past the rooms of his family, skipping a stair here or two as he follows the path to his chambers in silence, until he reaches his brother’s doors, catching the sound of a soft hiccuping and muffled wailing of a child.

Aemond unsheathes the dagger as he steps closer to the unguarded door, shaking his head in disbelief at his brother’s ignorance, especially after what happened to Jaehaerys. He opens the door slowly, not wanting to startle whoever is inside — a nursemaid or the queen.

He finds you sitting in front of the fireplace with baby Maelor crying fat tears in your arms as he tries to latch onto your exposed breasts to fill his tiny, hungry belly. Aemond’s eye wanders over your bare upper body; heavy swollen teats leaking with milk, a tired and teary expression on your face as you try to lull your son back to sleep, tending to him, caressing him, loving him. 

He has never seen a sight more beautiful than this.

He sheathes his dagger and pushes it into his belt before knocking on your door gently so as not to scare you and his nephew. He watches you closely as you snap your head in his direction, the tension leaving your shoulders as you smile at him sadly.

“Aemond,” you call him, gasping when your son bites your already sore nipple with his gums, trying to latch on to it but failing. He cries harder, face twisted angrily, his chubby cheeks red and puffy with how long he’s been searching for some comfort.

“Please, please don’t — mommy is trying,” you cry with him softly, standing up to pace around the room while you rock him, shushing him and wiping his tears. You are trying your hardest to feed him properly, but every second is wasted in vain as he cries and fusses in your arms.

Aemond closes the door behind him, enraptured with the sight you made—watching you walk around the room, half bare and beautiful to his eager eye.  He unfastens his cloak and belt that holds his daggers and sword before laying it on the nearest table, walking towards you with his hands locked behind his back.

You look like The Mother coming real, a god he should worship at your altar.

“Oh, my darling boy,” you coo at Maelor, sniffing as he sobs harder, his little fists flying on your chest as he searches for your breast, mouth parted and ready to be filled with his late-night meal.

Aemond stands behind you, not too close to intrude on your personal space, especially in such a vulnerable state you are in, but to keep looking at you. His eye roams across your nude chest, your fuller stomach, and hips that carry the remaining weight of having pushed a babe into the world.

He listens to your words, remembering the sight of his brother mocking him at the brothel, while he was being cuddled and taken care of — what an ugly laugh he has, Aegon. 

His gaze darkens as he looks at you, his queen, his brother’s wife, his brother’s possession, being so vulnerable in his presence with your breasts out and your child finally suckling on them. His eye finds your form once more as Aegon's words replay in his ears — ‘My brother will not sample another.’ He will make sure to teach his brother a very valuable lesson and serve him a good punishment.

His cock starts to swell beneath the layers of his clothing as he stares at you with a newfound passion; you have always been a lovely figure in his mind, too sweet and beautiful to be wed to his brother, and yet, now your features seem to be bolder in his eye.

He strides forward when he hears Maelor crying again, this time much softer but a cry nonetheless. You scurry to cover your breasts when you feel him behind you, trying to look at least a bit modest now that your child is less fussy.

“I’m sorry, Aemond, I-I forgot you came to visit,” you say in a hushed tone, waiting with bated breath for him to say something.

He looks down at his nephew over your shoulder, reaching to wipe a drop of milk from his round cheek near his mouth, his fingers brushing against your sore nipple accidentally. Both of you inhale sharply — him with the new rush of desire and you in surprise. 

“What a messy eater,” he says, his eye meeting yours as he brings his wet finger to his mouth, licking the remaining of your milk off while he keeps eye contact with you, dropping his eye to your lips as soon as they part in surprise before he meets your eyes again — they look darker, cloudier, more lustful. Your lashes flutter, and your rosy lips let out a shaky breath as you keep your gaze on his pink tongue licking his finger.

“It runs in the family I’m afraid,” you reply, averting your eyes from him, pressing a kiss on top of your son’s head as you bounce him, trying to hide your embarrassment.

Despite how crude your husband is, he’s never been one for making you flustered by such a simple gesture, and yet, his brother seems to be the complete opposite; bold, daring, and he’s surely taking whatever he wants.

“May I?” Aemond asks, standing in front of you with extended arms, reaching to take Maelor in his embrace. You gently pass him over, and as soon as your arms are free you bring them to your chest to cover your breasts.

“I-I need to—would you mind holding him for a moment?” You pull the front of your shift up as you ask him, and he can’t help his gaze not fall back on your chest but looks upward to your eyes quickly before you catch him and nod.

He hugs Maelor close, resting his little head on his shoulder as he walks towards his crib, glancing at you walking past the privacy screen. Aemond shushes his nephew, rocking him gently while he hums a tune his mother used to sing for him to lull him to sleep. It seems his efforts have worked when Maelor grows quiet, tinted cheeks stained with tears and fingers fisted tightly. Aemond lies him down slowly, brushing a finger over the few strands of his nephew’s silver hair before his attention is turned to you walking towards him with a warm towel over your chest.

“He has been restless as of late,” you sigh, leaning down to brush a kiss on your son’s forehead, standing on Aemond’s good side, “as have I, as everyone in the Keep. It seems he feels the loss of his brother.”

“We are all shaken by the loss of Jaehaerys,” he replies, his good eye looking up at your face, taking in every up and down of your face.

“Yeah,” you smile at him, ducking your head as soon as the tears gather in your eyes, “yeah…”

He takes a step closer, reaching to wipe the tear that fell from your eye, cupping your cheek in his large hand, “What ails you, my queen?”

“I just…” words die in your throat as he rubs soothing circles on your cheek, tracing the shape of your cheekbone with his thumb. “I’ve been feeling so unloved.” Your voice comes out a fragile whisper.

“Why is that, my queen?” He asks, swallowing harshly at the thought of his fool of a brother being neglectful to you. He’s been given the most beautiful maiden in the realm as his wife, so dutiful and sweet, but taken for granted because Aegon can’t simply keep his cock in his breeches for so long.

“Did you happen to see him when you were out?” You ignore his question, looking up at him from beneath your wet lashes that frame your eyes so perfectly.

He nods, his strong hold on your face never faltering, if anything he’s now more determined to punish Aegon, to take something he has been given on a silver plate but failed to care for. His touch is warm and welcoming, it grounds you to this moment of brief recognition of your feelings. Aemond seems to understand it, willing to give more, but his main purpose of this visit is to hurt Aegon the way he has hurt him.

“Was he—“ a sob is stuck in your throat as you try to utter the words, “in the b-brothel?”

Aemond looks down at his muddy boots, recalling how his brother saw him, how he laughed and undermined him in front of his friends. Aemond forgets about your question for a second, pressing his lips into a thin line and gritting his teeth before he looks back up at you, not before looking one last time at your chest, watching your milk soak through the fabric.

“I-I apologize, maybe it’s best if you leave—” You move away from him, making his hand fall from your face as you try to put back the little dignity you have left before you embarrass yourself more in front of him.

Something shifts inside him as you hide yourself from him, putting more distance between as you move toward the bed. His brother was right; he has not sampled another and has always sought out the Madame, but maybe it ought to change, maybe the fire of his brother’s cruelty might quell if he takes his most precious possession from him.

“Allow me to help you, my queen,” he walks toward you slowly, his eye seizing you up, taking in the sight of your curls around your shoulders, your skin glowing under the orange hues of the candles.

You turn around, watching him take long steps until he’s standing in front of you. He raises his hand, brushing his knuckles on your collarbones, his eyes dropping down to your cleavage. You exhale shakily, whether it is in requited desire or surprise, he does not know, but you do not push him away, just a weak protest that ‘we should not do this, I am your brother’s wife.’

“My brother is a fool who demeans others to feel powerful, and he has done this to us both,” he dips his down on your neck, his hot breath fanning on your ear, “let me show you what you have been deprived of.”

“You wish to help me just to teach your king a lesson?” your voice comes out with a slight tremble as you reach to brush your fingers through his silky hair. “Is that truly why you want me?”

“I despise when Aegon takes what is his for granted,” he says, “He is a fucking twat who takes for granted the treasures he has been given: the throne, the crown, you. And he humiliates you, his queen, by stepping inside that sinful place," he mumbles against your skin, tracing his lips over your neck while his nose nudges your cheek. 

“What do you want to do?” you whine when he bites your earlobe; you cling to his shoulders.

“I wish to fuck you like a hound,” he groans into your ear, his hands coming to grip your full hips.

“We will experience his wrath, Aemond,” you try to protest, but with how focused he is on marking your skin, you cannot help but melt in his arms.

“He is the king, I’m a kinslayer,” he hovers his mouth over yours. “I will kill him too if he dares to subject you to his anger.”

“We must be quiet-mhm—” he cuts you off, smashing his lips to yours, swallowing your protest. His hands move to your waist, gripping and caressing wherever he can reach, his tongue meeting yours in a soft battle of dominance. 

You moan into his mouth when one of his fingers traces a line from your hip up to your breast, squeezing the heavy flesh in his large palm. He groans against your sweet lips in delight, loving the weight of you in his hand. His thumb swipes across the wet towel before he pulls it out of your shift and drops it on the floor, leading you backward past the privacy screen to the bed.

You tangle your fingers in his soft hair, reaching to pull away the tie and letting his shiny silver hair frame his face beautifully while he kisses your breath away.

He lies you on the bed, breaking away from your lips for a second to look down at you, making room on top of you with his gaze fixed on the way your milk soaks through the fabric. He grabs the sides of your shift, ready to rip it apart before you put your hand on his, shaking your head, mumbling a hushed ‘we need to be quiet’ before taking off the dress yourself, lying under his heated gaze all bare except for your small clothes.

“My brother is a fucking idiot,” he mutters before he leans down to lick a path from your neck to your heaving chest, swiping the tip of his tongue over your nipple. He hums as he tastes a few beads of your milk, but abruptly stops when you whine, looking up at you with a questioning look.

“Maelor, well, he can’t latch onto his wet nurses. They are a bit s-sensitive— oh!” Your hand flies to your mouth when Aemond closes his lips around your bud, sucking like a babe being starved for hours, finally having his fill.

His other hand moves to your other breast, pinching, squeezing, and playing with the flesh while he gets drunk on your milk, helping the weight of discomfort vanish immediately.

Your nipple falls from his lips with a lewd ‘pop’, and he moves to the other one, giving the same attention while he leaves sticky lines of your milk across your chest, sucking on your teat quickly, nearly growling at the taste.

You cannot do anything besides moaning behind your hand and arching your back, pushing your chest further into his face. You throw your head back as your hips buck into his, his bulge rubbing against your covered core.

Aegon has never done this for you, it’s always been his duty to plant his seed inside you with little to no care for you to just make an heir, and after Jaehaerys, he’s been ever more distant — no more dinners, no walks in the garden with you and the kids.

His interest weakened the more you started to show, your soft dolce features turned into one of a woman, a mother-to-be, so he sought his pleasure in the brothels to fill the void you could no longer fill. You were non-existent in his eyes, and for once, you are glad, because the other Targaryen brother seems as if he’s in heaven while he feasts upon your breasts like a deprived babe. 

He lets go of your nipple finally, giving the fat of your breast one last kiss before he works his way up to your lips. He unlaces his pants and breeches, urging you to reach and undo his doublet, dropping it down on the pile of clothes. He breaks away to gasp for air while he grabs the back of his linen shirt and stands on his knees stark naked, his cock red, angry, and ready to burst inside you. His mouth shines with drops of your milk and spit.

He grabs the back of your thighs, spreading your legs to his hungry eye, licking his lip as his gaze falls on your soaked cunt. Aemond’s patience runs thinner than before, he moves closer to you, and his hair falls around you like a silver waterfall.

He strokes himself a few times before aligning himself with your entrance, pushing in until his cockhead is inside your warm cunt before he slams all the way into you. He muffles your scream with his own lips, hands coming to rest around your head, caging you under him as he starts thrusting.

Finally, he thinks, finally he has taken something that belonged to his brother, something so precious and fragile. You are nothing like Sylvie, you are soft and delicate, you taste deliciously sweet, and oh so responsive. 

He relishes the way you scratch his back as he fucks you with abandon, snapping his hips into yours furiously as he lets the pent-up anger he feels pour out of him. It is the anger he had inside because of his brother’s idiocy, the words that cut him deep like a sharp dagger.

But no more, no, it is time to take whatever belonged to Aegon. You are just a beautiful touch to it, and he would make sure his brother knows who’s been here, on his bed, giving his wife the pleasure she has never experienced before.

“My queen,” he shushes you, reaching down to collect a drop of your milk before reaching to smear it on your lips, licking it off them. His cock pistoning inside of you quickly, but he is mindful of the baby sleeping on the other side of the privacy screen.

Your eyes roll to the back of your head, breasts bouncing with each deep thrust as you try to keep your voice at bay.

He remembers his brother’s words once more; ‘did you fuck her like a hound?’ No, not with the Madame, but he will fuck the queen of the seven Kingdoms like one now.

He pulls out of you, leaving you clenching and whining at the empty feeling before he flips you over on your stomach, pulling your hips up as he spits into his hand and strokes himself before making home inside your tight cunt again, his cock reaching deeper with this position.

You fist the pillows under your hands, biting the fabric to muffle your noises, and Aemond notices that it is your husband’s pillow you are lying on.

He chuckles lowly, one hand gripping the fat of your hip while the other runs down the curve of your spine before he fists your hair in his much larger hand, pushing your head into Aegon’s pillow even more.

“Breathe in his scent while I fuck you like a dog in heat, yes, good girl,” he groans, his limbs tingling with pleasure and anger, letting his emotions take the best of him as he picks up his pace. “Yes, remember how much of a pathetic husband he is, think of how he can never give you pleasure like I can while I fuck my child inside you.”

Tears run down your face from how intense he is taking you from behind, his hips snap into your arse. Your wetness drips down on the bed sheets, but there is little you can do but take what he gives you — a blinding and mind-blowing pleasure you have never had with your husband.

Aemond reaches around your body to find your pearl, rubbing quick and steady circles on the bundle of nerves, leaning down to prep your spine with feather-like kisses, taking in your mesmerizing scent, and looking closer at your tears, taking pure satisfaction in seeing what a mess he has made out of Aegon’s wife, the realm’s queen.

You come with a sob, teeth digging into the soft cushion while your legs shake, walls clamping down against his girth, eliciting a deep throaty moan from him. He lets go of your weeping cunt and grabs your bouncing breast, squeezing the heavy flesh in his hand while his face falters, his thrusts deepen.

When his climax washes over him, it’s all white hot pleasure that rushes through his veins. He shakes atop you while his cock twitches and shoots ropes of his warm spend deep inside you, filling you to the brim. He kisses your tears, his face pushed against your cheek as he lets out broken gasps and groans.

He untangles his fingers from your hair as soon as he calms down from his high, bringing his milk-covered hand to his lips to lick it clean while he meets your eyes.

You look angelic, glowing with the aftermath of your release. The Mother came to life, he thinks.

He pulls out of you gently, minding how sensitive you must feel after the brutality he bestowed upon you. Aemond helps you under the covers, not caring to clean either of you up before he lies down next to you wrapping one arm around you while you curl next to him with your head on his chest.

He notes how quiet you are, drowsy and sleepy in the aftermath of your climax. He takes pride in how peaceful you look, and how good he must have made you feel. His good eye falls on the nightstand on his side, finding his brother — no, the Conqueror's crown — glinting under candlelight.

“I will kill him,” he whispers, “I will make sure our son sits upon that chair and holds Blackfyre. I will kill him, and no one shall ever know it was me.”

[thevillainswhore]

New Tricks

Pairing: Virgin!Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

Word Count: 9.5k

Summary: After your brother has to cancel movie night, you’re ready to resign yourself to an uneventful evening back at your dorm, alone and dejected. But what you didn’t count on, is your brother’s best friend and roommate, bursting through the door and asking you to stay; to spend the night with him, instead

What unfolds, however, while you spend time with the star football player, both shocks and astounds you — one confession in particular. 

Bucky Barnes, the Prince Charming of campus, the man you have been crushing on for an eternity, is a virgin.

Warnings: first kisses, fluff, smut, grinding, making out, big brother!steve, college!bucky, shy bby bucky, mutual pining, swearing, pet names, huge ton of reassurances, lots of praise, big hints of subby bucky

Author’s Note: beta’d by my baby @rookthorne

Okay, so where to start with this… the idea for this fic sprung from a certain someone 👀 and I just had to write it. Thank you to my girl for being a huge support through this, I love you 💗

These two have my whole heart and who knows? Maybe more will come of them 😌 for all my playlist lovers, you’re welcome - new tricks playlist ❤️

New Tricks Masterlist

I hope you enjoy this as much as I’ve loved creating it 🥹

Standing outside of your brother’s apartment, your impatience starts to wane thin. For ten whole minutes, you have been waiting for Steve to open up. And knocking like a crazed woman is beginning to get old; so is waiting on the doorstep to his front door. 

“Oh, for–” You grumble, and you lift your arm up to bang against the door for the umpteenth time,  when your hand misses it entirely, owing to the fact it swings open to admit you with such enthusiasm, it creaks and threatens to bounce back off of the wall.  

Bucky — your brother’s roommate, best friend, and your crush — sheepishly smiles and scratches the back of his neck. 

The line of his shoulders slump when he lowers his arm, and you notice (and appreciate) just how broad and muscled he is. He must have just been working out, or you interrupted him — nonetheless, you’re thankful for the sight before you, and how it makes the crush you harboured for the brunette for years roar to life all over again. 

Excellent, you inwardly sigh.

“Buttercup,” Bucky says — the affectionate nickname born from his sappy personality always makes you swoon, and his hesitant smile morphs into a wide one. You’re left fighting  internally to keep your giddiness at the sight of him to a respectable level.  “Hey, you. Sorry I didn’t hear you; I was listening to music.” 

Your gaze continues up to his hair, finding it tied back with an elastic at the nape of his neck.  Oh, how you wished you could run your hands through–

“Hey, you okay?” he asks, furrowing his brows. 

Embarrassment floods you and you realise far too late that he probably has asked you a question, or several, while you were daydreaming. “Sorry, Buck,” you squeak, praying that the heat crawling up your neck was not as obvious as it felt. “What was that?”

His soft, puppy-eyed expression brightens when you meet his gaze. “It’s fine, doll. Everything okay?” 

No matter how badly you want to stand and unashamedly stare at your brother’s best friend and roommate, your true intention behind your visit comes to mind. 

“Can I come in?” you ask, lifting the bag of snacks you brought up higher. Bucky’s eyes glance down at the bag, and then back up to your face. “Stevie planned our movie night and he isn’t answering his phone — I told him I was on my way and I asked him if he wanted anything else.” 

The confusion that creases Bucky's brows and downturns his lips in a small frown makes you narrow your eyes. 

“Surely he didn’t forget,” you accuse, still staring into Bucky’s face. “I make the trip down from campus every two weeks. It’s been two weeks.” A sudden, encompassing guilt fills Bucky’s eyes, and he starts to worry his bottom lip with his teeth — a sight far too hard to ignore. “Why are you looking at me like that?” 

“Um– I just–” Bucky stutters, and you watch as his fingers twitch and fidget — a nervous tic. If he didn’t look cute while stumbling over his words, you would feel sorry for being so blunt. “I just thought that– Uh, I thought it was cancelled. The movie night, I mean.” 

You step forward slightly, and Bucky opens the door wider. A wordless invitation. 

Bucky rushes to clear a space on the entryway coat rack for you, when he suddenly says, “You know, because of his date, an’ all.” His words falter at the look you shoot him. You stop taking off your coat, and you drop the bag of snacks to the floor, ignoring the crinkle and rustle of plastic. 

“What do you mean date, Barnes?” The use of his last name causes a flush of deep red to pattern his cheeks, but you don’t let up. There’s music playing from down the hall of the apartment – right where Steve’s bedroom is. “What’s going on?” 

Bucky skittishly fidgets and glances around the apartment, before meeting your heated gaze. “I– Look, I didn’t know–” 

You silently mouth a curse, beyond frustrated with your older brother, and with yourself for taking just a second to indulge and admire just how sweet Bucky is when he is unsure. “Fine,” you huff, and you turn to walk straight towards the source and to investigate it yourself.

Bucky’s frantic footsteps behind you don’t deter your haste. “Wait, stop — Buttercup, wait!”

Forgoing a courtesy knock — having had enough of banging on his front door — you barge straight into the room with as little as a greeting call or warning. 

“What the shit–“ 

The door to Steve’s bedroom slams against the wall, and you come face to face with the blond in the middle of a dance off with himself in the mirror. “Sis! Hey,” he gasps, holding his hand over his heart in fright. “What’re you doing–?” 

In lieu of an answer, you cross your arms and stare at him, unimpressed and exasperated with his antics. “Don’t you hey sis me.” The fear in Steve’s eyes as you stomp towards him almost vindicates your indignation of being uninformed. “What do you mean you’re going on a date? It’s movie night!” 

Steve has the decency to look ashamed. “Flower, I swear, I’m sorry,” he rambles, and he takes your hand, directing you to sit down on his bed. “I would’ve called to let you know but everything was so last minute.” 

The grip he has on your hand is firm, assuring you of his true intentions, even when he turns the Roger’s charm up to an eleven to worm his way back onto your good side. “I swear sis, I wouldn’t bail on you without a good reason.”

“Okay,” you say, staring into his face — still not wholeheartedly convinced of his graces. A line of questioning is in order, you decide. “So, who is this good enough reason?”

“Natasha Romanoff.” The dreamy, love-struck sigh that leaves Steve’s lips after her name is uttered has you reluctantly trying to hide your giggle; the righteous anger and frustration slowly leaves your body in his admittance.  

The fact that he has been obsessed with the college’s most popular redhead since forever, was a balm to the annoyance. You truly did feel happy for him underneath it all. 

And, in the end, it’s how you decide to let him off the hook — though not without teasing him, first. “No way, the Natasha Romanoff? How the hell have you managed that one?” 

Steve pushes your shoulder, and the force of his shove knocks you sideways onto the covers of his bed. “Fine,” you grouse, sighing heavily and resigning yourself to a night on your own. “I’ll let you off this time.”

“I’ll make it up to you, Flower,” Steve promises. And you believe him. He has always kept his word; ever since the two of you were kids. 

“Good,” you say, smiling softly. “I expect an apology at my door in the next few days, though.”

Laughing, Steve nods, and then he stands from his bed. 

“I’ll leave you to it then, I hope you have fun, bro.” 

It is an impossible task for you to hide your dejected hurt from Steve, though. Clever and perceptive as he is, he detects the subtle sombre undertones underlying your reassurances, narrowing in on them like a dog to a bone. 

You get to your feet with a quiet sigh, and as you move, you miss the thoughtful expression on his face; the perk of his ears at the almost indistinguishable shuffling of feet just outside of his bedroom. “How about you have a movie night with Bucky, instead?” 

You stop in your tracks, frozen in shock at the sudden and downright surprising suggestion. “Stevie,” you admonish, “Bucky does not want to waste a Friday night with me–“

“I don’t mind!” Bucky shouts eagerly from the doorway, and you spin around to face him. The nervous fidget of his curls his fingers and hands around one another, over and over. 

Had he been listening that whole time? 

Guilt begins to flood you. Imposing on any plans Bucky  may have made was a burden you did not want to bear,  and you couldn’t fathom who would want to spend the night with their best friend’s little sister. “Thank you, Bucky, that’s really sweet of you,” you placate, smiling at him. “But I know you’ve probably got better things to do on a Friday night than be with me.”

Bucky seems to swell in the doorway, his chest puffing up and he sets his jaw, a determined glint in his eyes. “Actually, Buttercup,” he retorts, crossing his arms in a decisive move. “A movie night with you sounds perfect.” 

The confidence in his tone takes you by surprise, and you flounder for a second while you stare into his steel blue eyes. “Really?”

“‘Course,” he replies easily, shrugging his shoulders. “It’ll be fun.”

His words, and charming smile, ultimately win you over.  

With your attention wholly focused on Bucky as he begins to talk about what movies to watch, you miss the knowing, victorious smirk that curls Steve’s lips.  

“Okay,” Steve calls from the doorway, looking back at the two of you, and you can’t help but be frustrated by his stalling. “Be good and behave while I’m gone. Oh, and, no staying up past your bedtimes — Bucky, her bedtime is ten o’clock sharp.”

The scowl on your face only serves to make him laugh, and you huff your exasperation before your hands grip his biceps; the only way to get him out the door is brute force. “Get out, Stevie,” you grunt, pushing with all your might, but it is to no avail. Steve is as immovable as a statue made of marble. “Don’t you have to go see Natasha?”

“Yeah,” Bucky agrees, and you hear the rustling sound of fabric. “Don’t you?”

Instinct tells you to duck, and you do so, just in the nick of time to avoid the pillow Bucky launches across the room from his place next to the couch. The pillow hits Steve square in the face with a comical thump. 

You burst into laughter at the stunned look of disbelief on Steve’s face, and you look over at Bucky, who is leaning against the sofa; a smug grin pulls his lips up and scrunches his nose.  “Get the hell outta here already, punk.”

With Steve distracted by Bucky’s betrayal, you take the chance to shove him out of the front door and watch delightedly as he stumbles in the hallway. “Hey–!” The door slams shut behind him, cutting him off. 

Giggles shake your shoulders as you put your back to the door, leaning against it with all of your strength as Steve turns the handle — evidently not finished in the war of quips. 

Bucky’s laughter from his place by the sofa makes your stomach flutter, and he walks closer, just as Steve stops attempting to break down the door. 

With the end of Steve’s attempts to forcefully open the door, you turn and face the wood and peer out of the peephole. A blond mop of hair is just within view. “Bye Stevie!” you call through the door, “Have fun, wear protection!”

Steve’s reply is muffled by the wood, and he flips you off before walking away.  

Shaking your head, you turn back to face the living room, and you see Bucky fussing around the sofa and coffee table. The strong aroma of a sweet, spicy scent fills your senses and you inhale deeply, letting the tantalising smell fill your lungs, before you ask, “Bucky, what are you doing?”

He sends you a furtive glance before looking back down at the snacks laid out on the coffee table, neatly placed next to two already filled glasses of drink. A bag of popcorn threatens to spill from his arms. “I’m, uh– I’m setting up? For the movie–?”

You could not help but notice how fast the bravado and confidence he displayed in the presence of Steve vanishes when he was with you, and you alone.  

“Oh, sweetie,” you coo, walking closer. “I thought we could watch the movie in your room, instead of out here. It’ll be more comfortable, at least, and we can spread out. Is that okay?” 

The popcorn bag that threatened to spill from his arms bursts instead, scattering the popped kernels all over the floor, making him yelp. “Ah! Uh– Okay, we… We can if you want?”

You nod once. “Absolutely. I’d rather be in your bed any day, then out here,” you tease, amused by the way Bucky’s eyes bulge and his cheeks flush. Then you look down at the popcorn all over the floor, and add, “But first, let’s clean this up.” 

Bucky starts to clean up the mess, and he tells you to grab the movies you agreed upon from the collection in the bookshelf. 

The selection to choose from is packed, as it always is. “Why don’t I grab a couple?” 

“Sure,” Bucky answers, sweeping the popcorn into a dustpan. “I mean, why not? May as well go all out.”

You grin and grab a couple of cases. “Do you need some help–”

“No, I’ve got it, Bubs,” Bucky interrupts. You look over your shoulder at him to see the blankets bundled high in his arms, and before you could protest and insist you help carry them, he shuffles off in the direction of his bedroom. 

Then, you glance down at the coffee table to see that the snacks and drinks are missing. “Did you grab the snacks?”

“Yeah!” Bucky calls back, muffled by the walls between the two of you. 

A fond sigh falls from your lips and you follow after him, DVD cases in hand.  

The tension in the air of his bedroom is charged with something you could not quite describe, and the butterflies in your stomach roar to life for it. You square your shoulders, and smile through it. “It’s no different, it’s no different,” you mutter under your breath; a mantra for confidence. 

Though, it is short lived. 

Bucky throws the blankets onto his bed with a grunt, and both the TV and DVD player switch on, ready to accept one of the disks you held in your hand. 

A shuddery breath falls from your lips, and you make your way to the player to place the first disc in. It whirrs to life as you turn to look at Bucky, who is placing the snacks on a tray table, his tongue between his teeth as he works. 

“Okay,” he hums, turning to face you, a shy smile on his face. “You ready, Bubs?” Without waiting for an answer, he walks past you to the light switch, his index finger poised to flip it off. 

You look down at your body, the warm outerwear you had thrown on to get to Steve’s apartment suddenly becomes scorching hot against your skin, and an idea comes to mind — flustering him has given you a rush of confidence before… 

“Almost,” you say, a hidden smirk on your lips. The layers of warmth are soft in your hands while you take them off, and you’re left in a thin tank top and soft, cotton shorts. “Now I am.”

A faint choking noise comes from the doorway behind you when you place the warmer clothes on Bucky’s desk chair. Inwardly, a coy smirk lifts the corner of your lips; outwardly, you look over to him, concerned and ever curious. 

His face, normally soft and kind whenever he looked at you, is taut with embarrassment; blotchy and red. His eyes are frantically looking anywhere, and everywhere around the room but at you. 

“Buck?” you say, getting his attention. His eyes meet yours. “You okay?”

The fidgeting is your first clue that he is struggling with something, and it is a battle to keep the teasing smile off your lips when his hands run constantly through his long hair and or come to a stop in the pockets of his grey sweats. 

Patiently, you watch while he repeats the same actions several times, each pass of his hands only serving to make him even more flushed. “Yeah. Yep,” Bucky coughs. “Mhm. Just great, thanks.” He looks up to the ceiling and gulps loudly. “You’re really wearing those? Uh– Just those, I mean?” 

You thin your lips to try and hurriedly fight off a smile as you grab your warm, fluffy socks from your bag. “Of course, silly,” you tease, shaking your head once. “I always wear my comfy clothes on movie night.”

The room turns deathly silent when you bend at the hip to pull the socks up your feet. 

Peering up from your task, you see Bucky staring at your legs, evidently thinking he hadn’t been caught and his eyes begin to trail upwards, towards your chest. The slackjawed expression amuses you, though you feel the beginning sparks of your own shyness come to life.

“Buck?” A nervous laugh bubbles in your chest, and you play with the hem of your tank top at the heat in his gaze. “Bucky?” you try again, “Are you ready?”

“Uh– Yeah, yes,” he rushes, quickly flicking the light off so his face is cast into shadow. You could have sworn he looked like a kid getting caught stealing a cookie from the cookie jar — wide eyes and a deepening blush that spread down his neck.  

Bucky had always been a little shy in your presence, this you knew. Whenever you come over to visit Steve, or you bump into Bucky on campus, you always notice a remarkable difference in his normal, unwavering charm that he had in familiar company. 

This lack of swagger gives you the impression that you unfasten the young, boyish version of him; the one ruled by nerves, and hindered by a severe lack of confidence. 

Sure, you enjoy spending time with him here and there when you hang out at your brother’s apartment, but never before have you been this close to him, and alone. 

“Why don’t we–?” You gesture towards Bucky’s bed, and before he could either protest or agree, you jog to the edge and jump onto the plush mattress with a squeal of laughter. The blankets cover you easily as you roll yourself in them. “This is perfect,” you sigh, happy and content. 

“And where am I meant to sit?” Bucky laughs, appearing in your eye line with a bright, amused expression. “You blanket hog.”

“Fine,” you drawl, and you disentangle yourself from the cocoon of blankets. 

“Why, thank you, madame,” Bucky says, extending his hand in a mock salute, and he sits down in the now available spot, before sidling up the mattress, to rest his back on the headboard.

The broadness of his shoulders don’t leave much room between the two of you, and you decide to snuggle up to his side in a bid to get comfortable. You feel him tense with the proximity, but he doesn’t push you away or say anything.

“Are you ready now?” you ask, reaching for the remote. “For the movie?”

“Yeah, go ahead,” he rasps, nodding quickly.

Despite his initial nerves, Bucky settles comfortably in your presence — half of the movie goes by undisturbed with only the occasional shuffling to get comfortable after getting a snack, or a drink.  

That all changes the moment Bucky becomes restless,his leg twitching against yours constantly, and he repositions himself every couple of minutes. From the corner of your eye, you see his mouth opening and closing; the courage building within him to speak up. You bite your tongue against the urge — let him speak first, you chided yourself. 

“So,” Bucky eventually says, his voice quiet. “How are your classes going, Buttercup?” 

You take your eyes off the screen and face Bucky, but he’s already looking at you, his eyes bright from the glow of the TV. 

“They’re going good,” you reply, just as quietly. “Yeah, they’re busy — hectic, even, but good.” 

The fabric of the comforter ruffles as you turn your body towards him — your shorts ride up with the movement, and your bare thighs brush against his sweats. Bucky tenses while you settle in and only relaxes when you stop shifting in place. “This time of year is always busy, the coursework and exams,” you continue, shrugging your shoulders. “But I’m managing okay, thanks.” 

Bucky nods his head thoughtfully. “Yeah, all those art projects you’ve gotta finish, it must be tiring.” 

Shock slackens your features and you reel back — you could not recall telling him what you studied. “How do you know what major I’m taking?”

“I– um,” Bucky stutters, suddenly overwhelmingly shy. “I hear you talking to Steve about it. Y’know, when– When you come over, on movie nights, and other nights.” 

You can sense Bucky is not done explaining; he licks his lips and stares at his lap, where he fidgets, again. Quietly, as if embarrassed, he continues, “I see you lugging your big canvases across campus sometimes, too. From class, and– And from the window, when I’m actually studying.”

Warmth creeps up your neck again and you blink rapidly. You hadn’t noticed that he took so much notice of you before now, and you couldn’t help but feel endeared over it. 

Desperate to shift the attention away from yourself, you blurt, “How’s, uh– How’s training going for football season this year?”  

Bucky freezes for a second, then trips over his words, “Oh, it’s good– Yeah, it’s great. Coach says I’m progressing well, so I’m doing alright, I guess.”

“So modest, Buck,” you tease. It was common knowledge on campus that Bucky is the star player of the college football team, while also being scouted to join the professional leagues. You place your hand on his arm and squeeze his bicep reassuringly, lending him a bit of your confidence. “Don’t you sell yourself short, I’ve seen you play — you’re amazing!” 

He inhales sharply and grimaces, an expression that contorts his handsome face. “You really think so?” 

“Bucky,” you say slowly. The tense line of his body is obvious as you shuffle closer, but you are determined to prove your point; assure him of his talent and abilities, for all of a shy puppy that he is.  

“Listen to me, honey,” you continue, and Bucky refuses to meet your gaze, instead focusing on his hands. “Everyone can see it, all of us — all of the women in the crowds, all of the kids that watch you from the sidelines. We’re all screaming for you.”

His skin is warm under your palm, but you don’t remove your hand. Instead, you grip his arm and shake it a little. “You’re amazing.”

Bucky stays silent — contemplative of your words, and you take the opportunity to think over the reason why Bucky chooses to stay in on a Friday night. 

There is no questioning the fact that Bucky Barnes could pull anyone he wanted, whether it was to party, or to fuck, but to your recollection — and from what Steve had slipped in the past — no one has ever witnessed Bucky bringing anyone home, drunk or otherwise. No partner he could call his own, either, and he didn’t brag about the obvious charm he held over the many women on or off campus. 

Cautiously, you venture towards the subject of your curiosity. “Speaking of, shouldn’t you be going out on dates on a Friday night, like Stevie? Surely you’ve got tons of girls lined up for you.”  

Bucky’s silence turns deafening, unnatural. His body becomes stiff and he looks to be barely breathing. 

“Buck?” You sit up and look into his face. It’s pulled taut with what you could only guess as shame, but that made no sense, and with a mounting, swelling horror, you realise you may have pushed him too far; teased beyond the point of what is acceptable between friends. “Hey, did I say something wrong? I’m so sorry–”

“No! No– I… fuck.” Bucky throws his head back against the headboard and covers his face. “Oh, God,” he groans, muffled by his hands. “Shit.”

“Bucky–” You hesitate, unsure of what to do or what to say. You’ve never seen Bucky behave like this, so anxious and uneasy. “I– I’ll go, it’s alright, I’m sorry,” you say quickly, and you start to shuffle off of the bed when you hear his muffled voice say something behind his hands. “What was that, I didn’t–?”

A heavy sigh lifts his shoulders, and they slump back down as he exhales. “Ihaventevenhadmyfirstkissyet.”

“Sweetheart,” you say quietly, and you shift back towards him. The curtain of hair he’s so fond of covers and conceals his eyes from view, but you refrain from tucking it behind his ear. “I did not understand a word of what you just said.” 

Bucky clears his throat and shifts uncomfortably, looking up at you with a great effort. “I– uh.” His hands land on his thighs with a finality not unlike the final siren at his football games, and he utters a reluctant, “I haven’t even had my first kiss yet.” 

His bedroom is quiet enough you would hear a pin drop. The TV had long powered off, since the movie finished while you talked, and the tension was palpable; a living, breathing encumberment that could not be cut with a knife. The flickering light from the still burning candle on his bedside drawers makes shadows dance across Bucky’s face. 

Okay, you think privately, so what? 

Bucky hasn’t kissed anyone before. It was justifiable — too busy with life, training and keeping up his GPA. You didn’t have to make a big deal out of this. “That’s okay–” Then the reality of the situation hits you, and your mind screeches to a halt. 

If Bucky hasn’t had his first kiss… “Does– Wait, does that mean–?”

“Yes.” Bucky squeezes his eyes tight and refuses to look at you — it is obviously a painful confession, yet he still forces himself to spit it out, putting voice to the doubt in your mind. “I’m a virgin.”

Now that catches you off guard. 

Bucky… is a virgin? 

Bucky, the star football player; built like a Greek god with the charisma to match. 

Sweat beads on his forehead and he looks like he is about to bolt from the room in his fear, and you realise all of your thoughts had shown in your expression. 

“Oh,” you manage, blinking slowly. The hand that was gripping his arm had moved without you realising, and you hastily place it back on his bicep. “Oh, Bucky.”

No other words come to mind. 

When you came to visit Steve for movie night, a calm, easy tradition in your routine, you never expected to end up in this kind of situation; on the other side of a confession that has left you speechless with shock, all while a strange confliction brews deep within your guts. 

You had been there once, and what you wouldn’t have given to have the opportunity to experience it with someone you trusted wholeheartedly — like you did Bucky, your mind supplies not-so-helpfully. 

The realisation hits you harder than you expect, and you gasp quietly, still gripping his arm to reassure him. 

Bucky moves his hands to cover his face again, and his chest rises and falls with a sharp hitch. The nervous pants for air that part his lips bring you back down to earth and away from that revelation. You know he’s embarrassed; ducking his head to his chest and glancing up as though you had scolded him. The entirety of his toned body is rigid with fear, each muscle clenching and poised to run, to save what dignity he feels he has left after such a confession. 

It’s difficult not to stare at the veins that line and bulge from his forearms down to his deft hands,  and you almost feel guilty for it; he’s in distress, fretting over the reveal of his lack of sexual prowess, but you cannot help the lingering gaze over his body. He just looks so pretty. 

From the get go, ever since you had met the star football player, you have always fantasised about him. The silent crush on Bucky had developed into such a deep attraction you almost couldn’t bear it any longer. 

Having convinced yourself of the non-existent reciprocation kept your tongue at bay, in the past.  And while Bucky’s virginity is a surprise, it did not hinder or lessen your feelings for him, quite the opposite; the heady weight of it settling over your mind like a blanket. 

What was stopping you now? What would be the harm in testing the waters?

To hell with it, you decide. The springs of the mattress creak as you move to shuck the blanket off of your body, then your legs. 

Bucky audibly gulps behind his hands when you move closer, and he positively freezes, like a deer in headlights, as you lift your leg up and over his thighs to straddle him. The soft brush of his sweatpants over your legs sends a shiver up your spine, and you sit down, settling your body comfortably on his thighs, just above his knees. 

“What– What are you doing–?” Bucky whispers, and his words are muffled behind his palms. You grin, unseen by your quarry, and you shuffle up his thighs to his hips, your clothed cunt just below the seam at his crotch.  

The sound of Bucky choking on his own spit is comical. 

You pull his hands away from his face, the urge to kiss each palm overwhelming; feather-soft brushes of your lips against the soft skin sends the pulse in his throat racing. “Buttercup, please– This is embarrassing enough–”

“Bucky,” you whisper, cutting him off. “Look at me.”

Blue eyes meet yours, and you pour all of the unspoken words between you both in your soft gaze, willing him to feel the yearning. “Kiss me.” 

“But–” He hesitates, a fish out of water again. His mouth hangs slack from the shock of such a bold request, and you place your pointer finger over his lips, shushing him before he can carry on protesting. 

You pout, placing a hint of pleading in your tone, “Please?”

He looks at you as though you’ve grown two heads. “I– What, I mean,” he flounders, arms hovering at his sides, hesitant to touch you — terrified of taking it a step too far. “I don’t know–“

“Aw, Buck,” you coo, smiling softly. Carefully, you shuffle further up his lap until your knees brush against the headboard of his bed. Gently, you place your palms on Bucky’s toned chest, just above his beating heart hammering away — not wanting to frighten him. “I’ll show you, okay?”

“Yeah.” The tremble in his voice makes your heart ache, but you smile encouragingly.

“Here we go,” you soothe. He smiles weakly back, eyes still wide with shock. “I’ve got you.”

You slowly and steadily move closer to Bucky’s face. A shudder racks through his whole body when he feels your breath against his neck, and you peck his stubbled cheek before sitting back upright to face him.

“Okay,” Bucky shakily says, fisting the blankets in his hands. “Okay. That was okay.”

“See? It’s not so bad,” you tease, and you tilt your head to the side, sticking out your cheek. “Your turn.” From the corner of your eyes, you watch his eyes sweep across your face, still hesitant and nervous, but a slither of curiosity now shining through. 

Broad, strong shoulders lift in tandem with his deep, grounding breath, and he steadily leans in before he second guesses himself. He resolutely does not touch your body, but he manages to find the confidence to gently press his lips against your skin, kissing your cheek. 

This time, he sits back and looks up at you for direction and reassurance. 

You consider it, ignoring the fluttering of your heart. His touch was sweet, but polite; a kiss on the cheek that you would give a friend after such a long time apart. And, in the end, you want Bucky to gain more confidence and actually enjoy kissing — he shouldn’t have to be ashamed to want it. “Good, that was good,” you say, keeping your tone mellow so as to not spook him.

He is making good progress, and gentle encouragement is the way to ensure it continues, you reason with yourself. “Now, I want you to do the exact same thing, but start gradually moving towards my lips.”

“Oh– Okay, okay,” he breathes, and his eyes widen slightly before they dart down towards his lap. 

That needs to be rectified immediately, before he shuts down, you hastily think, and you react swifty, your hands roaming from his chest and up to the sides of his neck, adding a little pressure to bring him back down to earth. 

There was an innate need for him to know that he could trust you; that you would treat him with the respect he deserves. 

Gently, you lift his head up, forcing him to look at you, and the downturn of his lips makes your heart ache. All you want to do is soothe the fear and rid the worry from his pretty eyes that pierce you, even through the strands of hair that have fallen in his face. 

“You’re okay, Buck,” you soothe, rubbing your thumbs over his warm, rosy cheeks. The movement and assurance seem to do the trick. “You’re okay. I’ve got you.”

A minute passes, and you watch as the confliction flitters across his face; an inward battle to assemble his courage to bridge the gap between you both.

There is another minute of silence, when he slowly advances, leaving his palms flat on the covers of his bed as he kisses you on the cheek. 

“That’s it,” you praise, sitting still in his lap, but smiling softly in encouragement.

Bucky hesitantly returns the smile, and he doesn’t move away, rather, he decides to stay close. “You did good,” you say, still smiling, and he takes you by surprise when he moves forwards again to place another tiny kiss even closer to your lips. “Oh–”

The soft brush of his lips makes you freeze, and he takes his time, building his confidence with each peck he makes. 

Finally, he reaches the corner of your lips, and he stalls; confidence wavering and faltering with the daunting task. You go to part your lips to speak on instinct, to encourage him, when he suddenly moves even closer to your face, making you hastily shut your mouth and brace for what was to come; willing for your heart to slow down the tattoo it beats against your throat.  

“Okay,” Bucky whispers more to himself, and he clears his throat before licking his lips. “Okay, okay. Just–” His lips connect with the curve of you own, the brief and fleeting connection enough to tell you that his lips are plump; ripe to swell and redden with a passionate make out session. 

Hastily, Bucky withdraws, but not all the way back — he lingers and only allows the tiniest space between your faces.

“You did it, sweetheart,” you coo, keeping your voice low. “I’m so proud of you.”

“Th– Thanks,” he stutters, and the rosy blush he sported turns a splotchy crimson. Interesting, you think.  

You turn your head to look at him, and the proximity of his face makes both of your lips brush against each other. The intoxicating softness consumes you, and you cannot deny the reality that Bucky is there, he is right there. A torture that intensifies in the billowing silence, while a burning, reckless spike of adrenaline rushes through your veins.

“Do you want more?” you ask quietly, breaking the silence and shattering the tension. 

A harsh breath falls from Bucky’s lips, and he presses forward to kiss you properly for the first time. 

Whatever you had been expecting for a first kiss from the inexperienced, sweet, charming man beneath you, flew out the window. Your lips slot perfectly over his, a chaste kiss that held enough need and want to be something far more; it could not hold a candle to the sex you had with past flings.  

The kiss, unexpected as it was, lasts only for a couple seconds longer before Bucky pulls back from it, panting lightly — puffs of air fanning over your slightly parted lips. He lingers, bumping his nose into yours to keep close. 

But eventually, Bucky pulls all the way back to rest against the headboard. 

The silence is not deafening — not like it was before, and you open your eyes, blinking slowly. 

Bucky is already staring at you. His eyes are glazed over with hunger, and he's out of breath, the rise and fall of his chest faster than before. 

You fare no better. Your heart pounds heavily in your chest, but it still feels like it’s lodged in your throat. No words are spoken between the two of you; just an invisible string that keeps you entwined to one another. 

It’s difficult to find the words to say, especially after something so raw and vulnerable; so new and budding. You want him to feel safe, like he had done good, though; you want to tell him he has nothing to worry about, not with you. 

And just as you open your mouth to speak, to praise him for how well he had done, Bucky slides his hands up your thighs, over your waist, and up to your neck, cupping the back of it in his large palm. “I want–” 

To your utter shock, he drags you closer, his lips greedily slotting over yours for a far deeper kiss.  

Bucky can’t get enough of you; already addicted and demanding more. You can’t be mad for it, not when he’s a sensational kisser — he’s good, far too good. The basics have you dizzy with want, and you decide on a whim to challenge him, to push him a little further and test the boundaries. 

You part your lips as Bucky pulls back, and before he could kiss you again, you tentatively tease your tongue against his lips. The sensation makes him sit rigid again beneath you, and he chases your tongue, the surprised moan he lets slip vibrates into your mouth.

The power of such a move has you smirking into the kiss. 

You only plan to stoke the fire by pushing him into the deep end a little — the prospect of overwhelming him too risky, but when you feel the effortless slide of Bucky’s tongue entering your parted lips to dance with your own, it leaves you physically stunned and unable to move. 

Bucky compliments you perfectly, as though he is a natural, and someone so timid should not be capable of that — it’s dangerous. 

It escalates — tongues dance and lips clash, and Bucky’s breath is heavy on your lips, as yours is on his, when he pulls back for air. There’s a pull that you can’t ignore, not any longer, and you bring your hands up from his neck to his hair, threading your fingers through it, making him moan quietly against your lips, “Bu–”

Your nails scrape against his scalp while he speaks, and you squeak in shock as Bucky’s hips surge upwards, forcing his hard cock against your clothed cunt. “Oh, fuck–” he gasps, and his body turns rigid with fear again while he pleads for forgiveness. “I’m so sorry, so sorry, Bubs– I–”

Quickly, you place your index finger over his lips. “Hush, you. It’s alright. I loved it,” you reassure, and suddenly, it turns into a game for you — you are desperate to see how Bucky plays along, how close to the edge you can get him. “Let it go, it’s okay.”

Bucky’s breath hitches as you grind down hard against him, and his hands rush down from your neck to grip your waist. The unabashed moan he lets slip is sinful; a delight to be the cause of, and a Cheshire Cat grin splits your lips. You’ll be damned if you don’t get more from him, you decide.

“Fuck,” he grits out, the grip of his hands on your waist turning painful. “Fuck, yes.” 

You moan and allow him to move your body where he wants it — predictably, he perches you straight on his crotch and his hands wander, slipping beneath the tank top you wear to brush against your skin. 

The resolve he had held onto so strongly is starting to slip, and you inwardly scream with joy at the dilation of his pupils, the heavy pants of his breath — a poor, virtuous man is melting into a puddle at your feet. 

The position of your body gives you an impression of just how big Bucky is, and with his cock hard, you can feel the girth and the size of him against your cunt  — a crime, you think, that it wasn’t inside you.

Your motions of grinding down into him have the tip of his cock catching on your clit through your shorts, and the thin material has no pretence of protectiveness, and you greedily lap every single, last sensation up while shamelessly taking more.  

“Bucky,” you whine against his mouth, and in turn, he nips at your swollen bottom lip before sucking on it. “Fuck– S’good.”

“Buttercup, baby,” Bucky slurs, and his fingertips dig into your skin, unknowingly marking you in his lust-fuelled haze. “Fuckin’ feel good, please,” he whimpers, unable to keep kissing you with the way his moans and litany of quiet cries fall from his lips, longing for more; too far gone, he can’t help himself anymore. “Need more, please.”

You’re all too pleased to listen to his cries for you; begging would taste so much sweeter, though. Next time. “Okay,” you soothe, pecking him on the nose. “I’ll give you more, sweetheart.”

The bed creaks as you shuffle up Bucky’s lap, and you move your hands to grip the headboard. “Don’t keep quiet on me,” you warn. 

“Wha– Fuck!”

You pant as you grind down on Bucky’s cock, the effort of making your hips work this hard and fast steals your breath, but the sounds — oh, the sounds falling from his pretty lips make it all worth it. 

The added friction of your lace panties against your soaked clit only amplifies the pleasure for you, and it’s all you can do to keep going.

Bucky throws his head back and groans to the ceiling, but you follow him, leaning over and panting into each other's mouths and kissing messily, barely able to put anything behind them as you work the both of you closer to release. 

You pull back to look at him, and the slope of his neck is too tempting to leave alone — the  loose strands from his hair are sticking to the sweat gathering on his skin, and you watch a bead of it roll down a curve of corded muscle. 

Of course, you weren’t going to let it go — you want him to crack.

Bucky moans, his breath stuttering as your tongue chases the bead of sweat, and you latch onto his skin, sucking steadily at his pulse point. “Baby– Baby, please, fuck,” he babbles, forcing his head back further to expose more of his neck. 

You oblige, all too willingly and with a giddy enthusiasm; the bow of your lips trace over his Adam’s apple and down to his collarbone, where you bite down gently. 

“Shit, shit,” Bucky suddenly exclaims, his words slurring together. “No– No, please, I ca– Can’t,” he begs, and you pull away from his neck, brows furrowing in concern. “Please, I don’t want to– To, shit–”

Words seem to be out of his grasp, and you wait patiently for him to gather his thoughts while you watch the thread of his restraint wearing thin, so close to snapping when he’s this overwhelmed with the pleasure you are giving him. 

You can’t have that, though. 

Bucky was torturing himself, not allowing himself the pleasure of giving into his base desires - what he needs. “Can’t what, sweetheart?” you ask. “You can’t cum?”

Bucky nods his head frantically, his eyes widening. You consider him, the sweat on his brow and upper lip, the way his eyes plead for something more; he’s so desperate to not cum, to let go. 

It’s plain as day that he is holding himself back, when you knew deep down that he is itching to relinquish control and give in. 

You decide then to push, to throw caution to the wind and make him take it. “Why not?” you whine, grinding back and forth, back and forth, over his painfully hard cock. “Doesn’t my pussy feel good, baby?” 

Bucky whimpers and scrunches his face up, cock throbbing as he grows closer to finishing. You don’t think he realises how he rambles to himself, “Fuck, yes! It does—fuck, it does baby.” 

“Think for me, sweetheart,” you say, leaning close to his face. “Just think for me, how good being inside my pussy would be.” The lure of being inside your cunt cracks the last of his resolve; control slipping through his fingers before he can grasp hold of it.  

You smirk, watching how his brows furrow and his eyes squeeze shut. “Just think, Bucky,” you repeat, “How wet and tight I’d be for you. How I would scream for more; beg for more of your cock and what you give me.” 

The sound Bucky makes is close to a wounded animal, and his grip on your waist is sure to leave bruises. “Oh, sweetheart,” you coo, mouthing softly up his neck until your lips brush over the shell of his ear, and you whisper, “Doesn’t that sound good, baby?”

Something snaps within him. 

The headboard of the bed thumps against the wall as Bucky tumbles over the cliff, his restraint long gone, and he wraps his arms tightly around you, curling them around your waist to hold you impossibly close. You feel something wet on your neck, and you realise belatedly that Bucky is crying silently, overwhelmed with the pleasure. 

To reassure him, you thread your fingers through his hair again to scratch at his scalp. You feel his lips move up and down your neck, placing open mouthed kisses over the skin “Are you okay?” you ask softly, careful to not move in his hold. “Bucky, baby?”

“Mhm,” Bucky hums, and he buries his face further into your neck, nodding frantically. “Pleasepleaseplease.”

A victorious smirk pulls the corner of your lips up. You know you have him — Bucky’s too far gone to come back down now, and he won’t be able to stop. 

“Go on,” you purr. Bucky hungrily grinds up into your heat, seeking it out and forcing a gasp from your lips with the pressure. “That’s it,” you push, and your last deadly blow has the dam breaking, once and for all: “Cum for me then, pretty boy.”

“Oh, oh, fuck– Baby–” Bucky moaned, but you keep steady pressure over his cock, and his hips start to stutter in rhythm. “Shit!” 

“That’s it, that’s it, sweetheart,” you coax, just as a damp patch stains the crotch of his sweats, and his legs tremble under your thighs. There’s a loud thump as his head hits the headboard of his bed. 

“Fuck–” Your own climax begins to mount, the tension of it unbearable, and just the band snaps, you cry out to the ceiling, “Bucky!”

The room is full of pants for air, the synchronised rise and fall of your chests in tandem with the twitching muscles of your body; the rushed gasps for breath a symphony to your ears.

“Holy shit,” you murmur, and you finally look at Bucky — only to be taken aback with the awestruck expression on his handsome face. His lips are stretched wide in a dopey grin, and his eyes, while normally so bright and soft, are glazed over with post-orgasm bliss. 

“You’re so beautiful, baby,” he whispers. You feel the brush of his fingers over your waist and thighs, a soothing touch that in combination with his words sends another wave of heat up your neck. “So fuckin’ beautiful.”

You smile nervously, suddenly speechless with the earnestness and fondness in his voice. Instead, you shuffle down his thighs to rest your arms on his shoulders more comfortably, and you play with the hair on the nape of his neck — the soft locks damp with sweat. 

The two of you stare into one another’s eyes, then, you rest your forehead on his to whisper, “Well, handsome, not so bad for your first kiss.”

Bucky starts to laugh, then giggles take over as he faceplants into your chest, nuzzling himself against your tits in shyness. 

After a while, Bucky starts to shift in place, and you start to rise up off of his lap, when his sudden stiffness alarms you. “Bucky? What’s the matter?”

“I— I don’t, I didn’t mean to—“ He stutters, looking down at his crotch. You follow his gaze, utterly confused — there is nothing abnormal, only the wet patch of cum staining the material. 

Your confusion only increases, and you look back to Bucky’s face. It’s blotchy and red from embarrassment. “Bucky?”

“I– Oh, goddamnit,” he mutters, and he looks down at his lap again pointedly.

The realisation washes over you; a lightbulb suddenly going off in your head. He was embarrassed over coming in his pants. “Bucky, sweetheart,” you say, moving to cup his cheeks and force him to look at you. “Listen to me, okay?”

Blue eyes meet yours, his gaze pensive. You muster the warmest, kindest smile; no judgement apparent in your own eyes as you stare at him. “There is no need to feel ashamed.”

“But–” Bucky tries. 

“No, listen to me,” you interrupt, and you lean in closer, bumping his nose with yours before reassuring him, “There's no need to feel ashamed, sweetheart.”

His pure, innocent gaze doesn’t fail to make you swoon even more over him. “It doesn’t?”

“Of course not, you know why?” Bucky shakes his head, eyes wide and intent to listen to anything you have to say. Your lips hover over his as you whisper, “Because I love you making a mess for me, baby.”

The weekend passes by swiftly, a tangle of bedsheets and limbs; kisses and fleeting touches that turn into passionate embraces. 

It was only when Steve came home on the Saturday night did he kick both you and Bucky out of the apartment with a yell of, “Bye! Have fun, kids!”

You decided to take Bucky back to your dorm-room — an easy decision when you get to watch how his eyes trail over your body as you walk down the halls holding hands. 

And on Sunday morning, bright and early, a series of knocks on your dorm-room door wakes you out of your slumber. “Damn,” you grumble, blinking slowly into the dimly lit room. The curtains are drawn, but a slither of gold peeks from behind the fabric; right over Bucky’s face and the mess of his hair. 

You sigh and tiredly throw the covers off you, mentally preparing yourself to get out of bed, but before you can get up, two arms curl around your waist and tug you backwards into a muscled chest. The warmth of the embrace makes you sigh contentedly.

“No,” Bucky groans before burying his face into your neck and smothering you with his body; trapping you with his arms and winding his legs around yours. “Dun’ get up.” 

You giggle as he starts kissing your shoulders and nibbling at your neck — the stubble of his jaw tickling the soft skin while his lips soothed over it. “I have to,” you say quietly, and you grab his arm to pull it off, only– 

“Nuh-uh. Where y’think you're goin’, Buttercup?” The deep rumble of his morning voice has you inner self trembling, memorising your antics of your weekend together. “Can’t leave me.” And to solidify his claim, Bucky clings onto you like a koala. 

“Bucky, you big goof.” You slap his arm, but he just grunts his protest, clinging to your body tighter. “Come on,” you say, wriggling — it’s met with no success of him releasing you. “Get off of me so I can answer the door.”

But you should have known that he is far too stubborn to let up that easily — a stubborn puppy that refused to give up his treat. “No. Tell ‘em to fuck off.”

“Fine.” Your only hope is an attempt to bribe him, you decide, and you look at him to find he’s staring at you through a half-lidded eye, the other eye obscured by his pillow. “How about you let me go, and I promise to give you unlimited cuddles for the rest of the day, no moving whatsoever?” 

That gets his attention, and he perks his head up to lean closer to yours. “I wan’ unlimited kisses, too,” he negotiates, pouting his lips and narrowing his eyes. 

You cannot help but chuckle. “Deal, handsome.”

Bucky plonks backwards onto the bed, star fishing in his sulking — the treat now successfully taken away. 

With your newfound freedom, you sit up and stretch, ignoring the grumbles and quiet whines of, “Bein’ left alone ain’t right,” and, “Tell whoever it is to fuck off, I mean it.”

The bedsheets rustle under you when you scoot to the edge, the warmth of Bucky’s body and the softness of the covers already sorely missed, especially when you stand up and slip into your fluffy, warm gown and slippers. The brush of Bucky’s shirt over your skin makes you smile, the fabric soft and worn but oh so perfectly Bucky. 

“Hurry back, Buttercup,” he calls after you as you walk slowly out of the room. “Please—don’ leave me too long.”

“Drama queen,” you whisper, quiet enough he wouldn’t hear. The knocking comes again and you curse the cause — if it’s your friend from class asking to borrow your notes again, you were going to slam the door straight back in their face. Aloud, you say, “I’m coming, I’m coming. Don’t bust the hinges.”

You prepare the speech to scold your friend as you walk to the door, and you grab the hand;e — the metal of it cold from the chill overnight. The door swings open with a loud creak, and you start saying, “What are you–”

The lack of a presence, or anyone at the door, stops you short — not even a shadow of someone running away down the hall.  “Fucking door dashers,” you groan, and you turn on your heel to go back inside when the toe of your slipper bumps into something on the ground. “What–?”

A gift basket, filled to the brim with an assortment of chocolates and scattered gift cards to your favourite stores, is innocuously sitting there. In the middle of the basket, poking its head out next to a bouquet of your favourite flowers, is the head of a stuffie Golden Retriever, the fur irresistibly soft and the eyes bright — much like Bucky’s. Its mouth held a note scrawled in messy cursive. 

“Okay,” you mumble, and you kneel down to look at it closer, worried that there had been a mix up or confusion of a dorm number. As you near the letter, you realise that the messy scrawl spells out Flower. “Wait.” 

That meant only one person was responsible. 

Your fingers tore open the letter and unfold it; the messy scrawl continues on the inside, too.  

Flower, I’m sorry for bailing on our movie night. 

I know you’re pissed, but I hope this and the beefcake attached to your back makes up for my mistake. 

Love ya squirt, 

Your big bro.

“Stevie,” you say, eyes darting over the lines of script. “You sneaky bastard.” There is a post script just below his sign off, and you continue to read.

P.S. Date went well, tell you all about it on movie night next week? I’m sure we’ll have guests joining us x 

Shaking your head in amusement, you place the note back with the stuffie, and pick up the rest of your basket. “What am I going to do with you,” you mumble, stepping back into your dorm to place the basket on the entry table to admire it again. 

“Wha’s happenin’?” a voice rasps behind you, and sure enough, the aforementioned beefcake in the letter from Steve plasters himself to your back; arms around your waist and his face tucked into your neck again. “Back to bed, c’mon.”

Bucky drags you backwards, chuckling deeply at your squeal of laughter that echoes down the hallway to your bedroom. “You made me a promise,” he grunts, and he pulls you back into bed and underneath the covers, intent on making sure you fulfil your end of the bargain. 

Part Two, Part Three

[tonycries]

YOU’VE UNLOCKED: Clan leader Choso wants an heir! ♡

How are those child-birthing hips, madam?

“O-oh, baby–” Choso’s feverish pants come out in such wet gasps against your ear, and he’s staring down at you with swollen, wobbly lips. Mouth just watering at the delicious curve of your spine, how easily it was that your pretty pussy was swallowing him up whole. “Oh baby- my baby- wontcha gimme an heir?”

It’s been hours now - and it’s just about the only mantra the clan leader - your husband - can get out.

And it’s all that he can spit out coherently at this moment, the large palms of his hands splaying out underneath your thighs to hoist you cleanly off the ground. 

You’re both letting out synchronized gasps when this only rummages him even more deeply inside of your clingy walls. Every ridge and throbbing vein along his length grazing up and down your sweetest spots. 

It makes you just gush, Choso’s sloshing honeyed cum drooling out of the ends of your sopping slit in such a creamy ring. Shit - he was missing some godforsaken clan meeting for this, too. And he’s never been happier.

“Fuck.” he shudders in a sharp inhale at the sinful feeling, jittery fingers dancing up, up, up to envelope your tummy. He gives a slow, gentle pat along that tiny inflation of him inside of you, “How do you feel so- ah- please!” His teeth nip a reedy path down your exposed neck, “Please please please wanna fill this cute cunt all over again so badly.”

“Yes.” you’re mewling when the voluptuous curve of his heft tip gushes out in another wave of such swelteringly hot, syrupy precum. Drenching your plush walls, at the mere sound of your lilting voice. “Want you to give me a- ah!”

Biting his lip, it’s all he can do to shut your pretty moans up before he cums already. He was addicted. 

Shit, he feels like he could pass out, throwing his head back with throaty stammers. Truthfully, he doesn’t know if he can cum - he doesn’t know if it’s even possible. Each and every wet thwack! thwack! thwack! of his overworked balls send stinging sparks of pleasure up his bowed back. 

But god, you always felt so heavenly. And Choso thinks he’d rather die than let such a messy pussy go to waste, than to leave it without every single drop he can offer.

“Shhh sh sh-” Your whiny moans are being muffled with his hot mouth, breath hitching when he wraps those pretty pink lips around your tongue. Sucking. Slowly. “I can- hngh- see it already.”

And oh, Choso sounds so ragged right about now.

Losing his fucking mind with each sloppy grind into your overstuffed cunt - and he was so big. So massively hefty that it stretched out your gripping walls until they struggled to mold around his length. Trying to milk the fucking soul out of him.

“Can see you- all round n’ glowing.” he’s babbling, all pussydrunk. Your entire body jolts when the thick curve of his thumb swipes a sultry trail down where your puffy folds were bulging all around him. “All filled with me-”

Choso was firmly hammering into you with reckless abandon - he always had been tonight, all but dragging you to the heady confines of your bedroom after seeing you cooking dinner with his little brother. Pulling, tearing, fucking you into one of the old mahogany tables at his sprawling family estate. 

Feral. 

His dark yukata is just barely dangling off of one milky shoulder, sifting down further and further at each pressurized push of his slender hips. 

“Fuck- fuck fuck-” you moan, tangling your fingers inn his dark strands in a way that makes him keen. Makes him almost sob, voice cracking so pathetically. 

He could count every clench of your tight pussy around his achy cock, every knocking clash against your g-spot - your womb - that had you letting out the cutest noises, every splattering dredge of his own potent seed stuffed deep inside. 

“Yeah- oh, baby–” Choso’s rough hands come up to steady your hips, knees buckling with such neediness to push use your velvety channel even further. “Hah- my little heir- gonna be jus’ as strong as daddy, hm? Fuck-” Your feet are now fully dangling off of the ground now, and he’s licking such a languid stripe up your throat. “They’ll look at you all full- all pretty and see me.” His lips were running a mile a minute, leaning forwards to pin you down onto the cool surface with his full weight. “Those elders- the council- friends- everyone and anyone. They’ll see you and know I did this I-”

You just sob when he sinks in so deeply in another messy, thorough thrust. 

“-I did this-” he’s sounding so utterly out of breath, gliding his wet hand along your overspilling pussy to coat it in a glossy sheen of cum and your sweet, sweet juices. The sight just makes him gasp, bringing his glossed-up fingers up to his face, “-I did this, didn’t I, baby?”

Your hips can only jitter backwards in a useless attempt to meet his ruthless cadence. “Y-yes- you did this- hngh- really wanna-” You’re swallowing the tiny ah! ah! ah! wrenching out of his spit-slicked lips. “-wanna make you a daddy, Cho–”

And oh that makes him whine. 

You knew that if any of those uptight elders could see their golden boy right now - one of their strongest clan leaders - they’d absolutely faint. 

Because Choso was rutting, he was sobbing, he was cumming. 

So much. Weepy cock flagging once, twice before another one of his crashing rams have him dumping out such sheer, heavy ribbons of cum. Over and over- you’ve never felt so full. Because Choso’s thick girth was already stretching out your insides, and it was only bloating up more with each sticky gush of cum oozing out into your walls. So much-

“Oh my god-” you’re all but hauling him in so closely by his hair, making him whimper. “Feel so stuffed- so good, Cho. Fuck a baby into me- hah-”

You’re so utterly cockdrunken that it takes a few syrupy seconds for you to realize that those words are all it takes for your dear, strong husband to gush out in another steaming wave of cum. Until he was shooting blanks. 

Long, trembly fingers of his snake downwards to spread your pussy lips, eyeing down the way you make such a mess all over his cock. 

“Sh-shit.” he’s sniffling, kissing the side of your mouth. He can’t take his eyes away from just how swollen your stomach had gotten after being overfilled to the brim. Slobbery pussy coating him in all your lewd contents. “Of- of course, ma’am.” 

And before you know it, he’s bucking down into you again. Mind hazy, big fat tears splashing saltily onto your lips. 

“Anything- anything for my gorgeous w-wife.” He groans, and you feel the painfully pleasurable clench of his overworked balls once more. Dangerous. Depraved. Still. Knocking up greedily against your ravaged g-spot once more - you didn’t really think you were done already, did you? “Anything for the future mother of my heir.” 

[figthoughts]

soldier boy just can’t keep his hands out of your underwear no matter where you are and how many times you tell him. 18+

“not here, ben!”

“we’re in public, ben!”

“butcher’s right next door, ben!”

ben just doesn’t give a shit. his fingers would slip past the waistband of your lace panties and quickly find their way between your thighs, feeling your soft clit with the pads of his fingers.

your eyes dart to the motel door and you let out a breath as you feel him gently rub your pussy, “b-ben, no. the others will be back soon.”

soldier boy laughs, used to your usual worry about getting caught with his hands down your pants. you’re always so concerned about other people when he’s trying to make you feel good.

“sweetness, just shut the fuck up and let me touch you. got it?” he says lowly, his rough fingers speeding up on your clit.

you hum softly, your pleading expression starting to soften as he slips a finger down to your entrance, sliding it in. you gasp quietly as he pulls you backwards onto his lap, his chest pressing against your back as his hand works between your thighs.

your head drops back onto his shoulder as he curls his finger up inside your pussy while his thumb circles your clit, earning little groans and gasps from you. his other hand snakes around your neck, keeping you pressed against him. a gaspy moan leaves your lips as you melt into him.

“you love it when i play with your pussy like this, don’t you? you like the idea of the others catching us, huh, baby?”

you groan softly as he squeezes your neck, your hips starting to roll with his touch, “mmm, yes, sir.”

“good girl,” soldier boy murmurs into your ear and slips another finger into your cunt, his movements becoming harder as your pussy clenches around his meaty fingers.

you feel the knot begin to tighten in your stomach as he fucks in and out of your cunt, his thumb still roughly circling your clit. you groan as your hips jerk forward and you feel him harden beneath your ass. he groans softly as you rub against him.

“you gonna cum, baby girl?” his deep voice rumbles in your ear. all you can do is groan and nod, the pleasure from his hand clouding your brain. soldier boy chuckles and tightens his grip around your neck, forcing a strangled moan to escape from your lips.

“that’s it, cum for m—”

the door of the motel room swings open and butcher and hughie storm in, grumbling about something to each other.

you clamp your legs together in shock as both their eyes drift to you and soldier boy, and his hands wrapped around your neck and in your underwear.

the pair of them take in the scene in front of them. hughie immediately averts his eyes as his cheeks heat up from embarrassment, meanwhile a big stupid grin grows on butcher’s face.

“no fuckin’ shame, you two.” butcher mutters, his voice low and gruff. he shakes his head and chuckles, dumping his bag on the table as hughie awkwardly clears his throat.

your eyes are wide and you’re speechless, too embarrassed to say anything. soldier boy’s fingers continue to move as you squeeze your thighs together, your hand on his wrist silently begging him to stop.

“could learn to fuckin’ knock, ya know? fuckin’ blowjob brothers,” soldier boy grumbles back, secretly enjoying the fact you just got caught together like this, but frustrated you want to stop. he sighs and pulls his hand out from between your legs. your grip on his wrist loosens.

he pulls your head back with his hand on your throat. he moves his lips next to your ear and whispers, "don’t think we’re not finishing this later."

A/N: editing this high lol lowkey I think it makes it easier to focus anyways send me some requests if ur a freak. <333 (i promise i’m working on my current reqs, i’m just a busy girl! but they’ll be out soon)

requests and feedback are welcome!

[cllightning81]

Red Bull? Really?

Summary : You're dating the three time world champion that's in a championship battle with your twin brother. However, you haven't told him about the relationship

Pairing/s: Max Verstappen x Norris!Reader

Word Count :

Masterlist Max Verstappen Masterlist Want to be included in my tag list? Click HERE

You and Lando always had a good relationship. You didn’t have any twin telepathy, but that didn’t mean that neither of you couldn’t tell what was going on with the other. That was why Lando now knew that you were hiding something from him just by your body language. 

You were in a serious relationship with his on track rival where the rivalry was just heating up second by second. How could you come clean about that? It was bound to break your relationship with Lando and Lando’s relationship with Max. 

While all the commentators assumed the races would be what broke their relationship off track, it was about to be you. You had spoken to Max before the summer holidays and decided that before you left to go on holiday with him, you’d confess to Lando. 

Your original idea was just to text Lando from another room in his house while he was streaming so that his reaction couldn’t be too extreme but Max told you not to do that and that he was your brother. He wasn’t going to be too extreme. 

How wrong Max was about to be. Another debate you’d win. 

Lando had just finished streaming and was now coming downstairs to get some food that you’d cooked – in hopes to butter him up – you smiled over at him as you answered a text from Max F about a project you had coming up together. 

“So” Lando said, sitting down on the couch opposite you. You could feel your heart rate starting to rise knowing that you actually had to tell him now. Having previously told him, you needed to talk. 

“You can’t lash out” You started, and he raised his eyes. You really wish you had done it your way and just locked yourself in the bathroom so he couldn’t get near you. 

“That’s not a good start Y/N” You bit your lip, looking over at him briefly 

“So I’m dating someone” You whispered as Lando sat forward a little with a smirk crossing his face 

“Do I know them?” He asked, and you nodded slightly as he raised his eyebrows, getting a little more suspicious now. 

“Look, it was never my intention to hurt you. When we first started seeing each other, it was before anything ever happened. You’ll always be my brother before anything else. Please don’t do anything harsh” You rambled, stopping due to the knock on the door. You quickly took it as your chance to leave the conversation, hoping that Lando and yourself could forget about it. 

Except when you answered the door, your problem was, stood at the other side of the door. You let out a long breath, letting him into the house. 

“Max! I was just about to find out who Y/N is dating. You can join me” Lando hummed as you closed the door, taking a deep breath. You could see the smirk crossing Max’s face 

“Erm yeah Lan I think I’ll finish this conversation when we’re alone” You wandered off to your bedroom despite Lando’s complaints. 

You hadn’t brought up the conversation again to Lando and had quickly avoided any conversation he brought up. 

That was until you were, stood in your own house, Max was, sat on your couch scrolling  through the TV, trying to find something for you both to watch. 

“Kindje” (Baby) Max called as you poked your head through from the kitchen with a smile 

“Yeah?” You asked, walking over to him standing between his legs. 

“Movie or TV show?” He asked, looking up at you as his arms wrapped around your waist

“Let’s go TV show. Movies are long and boring” You answered, leaning down to press a kiss to his lips, and he nodded, pressing a kiss back to your lips. Pulling you on top of his body so that you were straddling his lap. Your head resting in the crook of his neck breathing in his scent as one of his hands rubbed circles on your back 

“Still avoiding the conversation with Lando?” He asked, and you nodded 

“You and him keep getting your elbows out on track. I think that would make it worse” You sighed. It would make it worse. Lando and Max were violent on track enough as it was. You couldn’t imagine Lando’s violence if he found out about you and Max. 

“How about we abandon the TV show, go to bed, and just cuddle?” He suggested, and you nodded. 

“That sounds like a plan,” you hummed. Max stood up within one move, one of his hands hooked under you to carry you to the bedroom. Normally, you stayed at Max’s house however, Max decided to come over to your house tonight to surprise you. 

Max settled you on the bed before getting settled in next to you. Your body curling into his as he wrapped his arms around you. The silence was nice. Max’s hand under his shirt that you were now wearing drawing, comforting shapes on your back. 

You were both getting comfortable and about to fall asleep when there was a loud bang followed by someone shouting your name however, it didn’t compute who it was. 

“Y/N. Where are you?” Lando shouted, and that’s when it hit. Lando. You and Max both quickly jumped up as you glanced at Max, shutting the bedroom door as you walked to the living room to avoid Lando walking into the bedroom. 

“Lando it’s late” You complained, and he just shrugged. 

“And? I’ve got exciting news” He shrugged as your rolled your eyes. Lando’s eyes narrowed as he looked back at you from his spot on the couch. 

“What? Is that a red bull shirt?” He asked loudly as you glanced down at the top you were wearing. Shit. Fuck Max for not owning any other shirts. 

“I erm. I borrowed it from Checo and just never gave it back when I spilt coffee down myself that one time” You lied. It was a really obvious lie. The massive 33 on the top gave that away. Lando started to take a couple steps away from you, falling over the couch as he did. You couldn’t help but laugh a little after all he was your brother. Lando glared at you 

“Look Lando. I’ve been trying to tell you. I just didn’t know how. Please don’t be mad” You whispered 

“How long?” He asked quietly 

“About five months” You whispered, looking down as he continued walking towards the door, not saying anything loudly, just shaking his head and muttering to himself. “Lando please” you looked over, and he quickly opened the door and left slamming the door behind himself. 

You sat on the couch, dropping your head into your hands as a pair of hands wrapped around your body. The tears slowly falling down your face as Max’s hand rubbed your arm softly, pulling your body into his 

“It’s okay kindje” He whispered, holding you close despite you trying to push him away “Hey don’t fight me. I’m not going anywhere no matter how much you fight me” You were too distressed to understand what Max was saying. 

You’d hurt your brother. That’s the worst feeling that you’d ever felt in your life. What hurt more is the fact he didn’t even say a word to you. You never expected him to be happy about it, but you expected him to maybe say something to you. 

You didn’t want Max’s comfort. You felt like you didn’t deserve Max’s comfort, not after the harm you just caused your brother. You deserved to feel the harm as well. Siblings never mind twins were meant to harm each other. 

A couple weeks later, at the next Grand Prix, Lando still wasn’t talking to you. You’d phoned him a couple times a day, texted him multiple times a day, and even attempted to show up at his house. Max stepped in after a week also trying to speak to Lando. You’d even went through your family to try and speak to Lando, but he wasn’t having it. 

Now Max had convinced you to come to the Grand Prix just so that you wouldn’t be in the house moping as he had said. And well, in all honesty, his cats were little devils, and they could manage a week or two with a cat sitter.

Max’s hand rested on the small of your back as he spoke to the driver thanking them for driving you to the hotel. As you were about to walk in Max spotted a guy standing just off the side to all the team members and other people turning to you with a sly smile before his hand dropped and he walked over to the guy. Who clearly backed out of just asking Max to sign something, but you liked how even though he was prepared, he still respected the privacy. 

Max soon walked back over his hand, going back to resting on the small of your back as you smiled up at him 

“Ready kindje?” He asked, and you nodded with a smile 

“Think so” You hummed, walking into the hotel with him and up to the room he had been assigned. You were hoping that Lando was going to be here, but deep down, you knew that they had their own hotel sponsor and would probably be staying there, but one could wish. 

Max had also been invited to an event with sponsors, and after a lot of convincing, you decided to go with him. It was better than being stuck in a hotel room alone and there was free food which did work out as a bonus because those savings don’t last long when you refuse to let your boyfriend pay for your things wanting to be independent. 

Now, getting ready in the hotel room for the event, deciding on just a simple dress that matched Max’s suit. Your hair, in the simplest style you could do and make up just simple as well. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to put effort in and more that you just didn’t have any effort. 

Trying to get Lando to talk to you had taken up most of your energy and effort. There was nothing else for you to give, and you needed a break to reset that. Max walked up behind you in the mirror, wrapping his arms around your waist with a smile 

“You look beautiful” He hummed, pressing a kiss to your neck. You turned around in his arms, wrapping your own arms around his neck 

“And you look very handsome” You smiled, looking up at him. 

“Are you almost ready to go? The car is downstairs waiting” He smiled, and you nodded 

“I just need some help putting this necklace on, then I’m all finished” You smiled, holding up the necklace that you were planning on wearing. Lando had bought you it when you both turned 21. It was a matching one with one of his bracelets. 

Max carefully took the necklace out of your hands, and you lifted your hair up. Gently resting the necklace upon your chest before tying the clasp at the back of your neck. You smiled at Max through the mirror, and he couldn’t help but smile back. 

You were still in pain, but you couldn’t deny that Max was making that pain go away day by day. 

A short drive later, you and Max were not at the large ballroom for the event. Filled with sponsors for all ten teams, drivers from all ten teams, along with team principles and other important members of the teams. 

You weren’t even looking for Lando knowing that he’d just ignore you. Instead, you found yourself talking to his teammate and his girlfriend. You and Lily had always gotten along from the second Oscar joined the team, having many things in common. 

“How was your summer break?” You asked Oscar, knowing his plan was to go back to England however you hadn’t seen him since 

“It was nice. Typical British weather, but you know. Couldn’t have asked for a better time” He smiled, turning to look at Lily, who could only smile at her boyfriend “How was yours?” He asked, and you took a deep breath 

“It could have been a lot better” You replied 

You had thought Max was away talking to Cristian and Checo until there was a large hand settling on the small of your back. When you turned your head, Max was smiling down at you 

“You couldn’t have saved me?” He asked, and you shook your head slightly 

“No, unfortunately, I couldn’t have. I thought you were with Checo and Horner” You shrugged, and he shook his head. 

“No. I got dragged into a conversation with the Pirelli guy and some other sponsor” He replied, and you giggled. Leaning back into his warm touch. Max finally looked up to see who you were talking with “Oh hey Oscar” He smiled, and Oscar only nodded his mouth slightly ajar. Lily had a sly smirk on her face that only you picked up on. 

“Are we still on for padel?” Oscar finally asked, allowing the boys to get into their own conversation so Lily could drag you away to the bar. 

“Oh my god! What’s that?” She exclaimed, and you bit your lip 

“The reason Lando’s being such an ass to me” You replied before ordering a drink for both you and Max

“Ah so that’s what his mood is all about” Lily nodded, understandingly as you nodded turning to look at her. She still had that smirk on her face “So” She dragged out as you raised your eyebrows at her 

“So what?” You asked

“So what’s he actually like behind closed doors?” She asked as you leaned your back against the bar with a small smile 

“Lils he’s perfect. Like honestly so perfect” You sighed, looking over to him. It didn’t help that he currently looked very good. Although he always did, that suit was just doing something for him. 

“Wanna share more?” She asked, and you hummed tapping your nose 

“Nope that’s all the information I shall share” You smiled, picking up your drinks before walking back over to Max and Oscar. You spotted Lando talking with a sponsor as you handed Max his gin and tonic. His arm wrapped around you as you leaned into him with a slight smile. 

“Enjoying yourself?” He whispered, leaning down to kiss you 

“Better than your cats” You shrugged, and he faked offence, holding his chest as you giggled 

“They’re menices!” You exclaimed, and he shrugged a little 

“Yeah, I guess that’s true” He smiled, leading you back to the table you were due to be sat at. Pulling out your chair allows you to sit down before sitting down. You turned your head to look at Max as you placed your drink on the table 

“Is he still ignoring you?” He asked, and you nodded slightly, looking over to where Lando was now sitting “Shit. I didn’t mean to bring it up like that” He sighed, resting his hand over yours as you shrugged a little 

“It’s fine. I just wish he’d get over it even just to say hello. He’s still my brother” You sighed, looking up to thank the waitress as she brought over the food for the table you were sitting at. 

Back at the hotel room the alcohol in your system had made you forget about the whole situation with Lando and Max had taken your phone so that you wouldn’t answer any of Lando’s texts now that the alcohol had made him realise what was going on. 

Max had helped you get ready for bed before getting in next to you. Your head rested on his chest as he wrapped one arm around you, the other resting on your waist as he drew shapes on it. 

“It doesn’t matter what Lando thinks as long as you're happy. Please never forget that Schat (darling)” He explained. You nodded along with his words 

“I’d be happier if Lando had anything nice to say” You looked up at him from his chest as he leaned down, pressing his lips to your own

“He’s been texting you but I think you should look at them when you’re a little more sober as much as I know you’d sleep better reading them but I’d rather you have a clear mind reading them” He explained as you looked up at him pulling away from his lips 

“Have you read them?” You asked, and he nodded 

“I did. I figured reading them before you would help me comfort you if needed” He explained 

“You don’t need to explain love. I just wanted to know” You replied, pressing your lips against his. Moving so that you were laying between his legs, your head still on his chest as both his arms wrapped around you, sliding under your shirt, allowing him to draw shapes on your bare back. 

No matter what, Lando ended up saying you were more than happy being wrapped in Max’s arms. Maybe it’s time for Lando to feel what you had felt. 

Tag List

@thewannabewriter @lozzamez3 @barcelonaloverf1life @hiireadstuff @mxdi0 @f1kenzzz @evie-119 @ahgase99 @velcosainz @kat-s2 @scarletwidow3000 @thegrapejuiceblues1982 @tellybearryyyy @xabwlky1999 @xxx-betty @callsignwidow @chocolatepoetryfun @lwstuff @destinyg237 @glitzyditsy @sltwins @myloverjk @lilymurphy03 @chuckpiboli @rqlsefanny @alex-wotton @tpwkstlies @maymustdie @formula1-motogpfan

[sturniqlo]

Sneakin' Around- M.S

summary: after y/n's brother is fast asleep, matt sneaks into her room to continue what had happened in the kitchen.

cw: brothers best friend trope, cursing, SMUT; hickies, making out, oral!f!receiving, fingering, multiple orgasms, unprotected p in v, cowgirl, belly bulge, spanking, creampie, getting caught?

an: read part one here | short n smutty

masterlist | join my taglist

-----------------------------------------------

"when it turns out she's a devil in between sheets, and there's nothing she can do about it." - only angel, h.s

-

-

It must've been fifteen minutes after Matt had sent Y/n the dm. She sat in her bed patiently waiting for her door to open. She tidied up her room even though Matt won't pay attention to her room. He'd be busy doing other.. things.

A quiet knock on her door made her sit up from her laying position. "Come in." She spoke softly. Matt opened her door and saw the soft glow of her sunset lamp. Her room smelled like vanilla and a hint of caramel, something Matt always smelled when he would walk by her room to head to the stairs. He'd never actually been in her room. He would just stand in the doorframe as Daniel would be the one in here asking her something. Not this time.

Matt entered and closed the door quietly behind him. "Hi." He said as he took a seat on her bed in an empty spot next to her. "Hi, Matt. Took you long enough." She smirked, climbing onto his lap as he sat against her plush headboard. "I know, 'm sorry, I'll make it up to you." He runs his hands up and down her bare thighs, as her shorts had ridden up higher.

"I know you will." She tilts her head, and rubs her hands up and down his chest. "Can you take this off?" She kisses his jaw and tugs on his tank top. Matt tugs it off and throws it somewhere on the floor and she does the same with her shirt. Matt groans at the sight of her bare breast and grabs her jaw and places his lips on his for the third time tonight. Y/n moans feeling his soft lips on hers.

"Shh, can't let your brother hear, hm?" He pulls away and attached his lips to her neck, siding his hand down to squeeze her tits and roll her nipples between his thumb and index finger. "Can you be quiet for me? Can you do that for me?" Y/n sighs in pleasure and nods her head at his words.

"Yes, I- I can do that." She whimpers when Matt finds her sweet spot. Matt notices this and runs his tongue an extra time and sucks a bit harder. Y/n moves her hips against his, trying to get some friction to soothe the ache between her thighs.

Matt places a wet kiss on her sweet spot before removing his face from her neck. "So needy, moving your hips against mine." He moves his hands to her hips, stopping her from moving. "Matt- please." She wants to continue. "Let me taste you first. Can I?" He looks up at her.

"Yes, fuck yes. Please taste me." She nods quickly. "Go ahead, lay down f'me." Matt pats his right hand against her hips. Y/n wastes no time and gets off of his lap and lays down next to him. Matt gets up from his position and moves kneels down between her legs, his hands coming next to her head.

"Gonna let you brothers best friend get a taste of you?" He refers to the event that is about to happen. "Yes, want your mouth on my pussy." She brings his head down to meet her lips in a kiss. It's messy, just like the one in the kitchen. Matt runs in right hand down her body to the waistband of her skimpy sleeping shorts. "Can I-" Before he even finished his sentence, Y/n nodded and he chuckled at her eagerness.

Matt backed away from her to be able to slide the pair of shorts off with ease and threw it off with their shirts on the floor. All she was left in was her baby blue cotton thong with a wet patch on her heat. "Look at that, fuck." He groaned, laying on his belly between her thighs. She props her legs up and spreads them. He kisses her inner thigh before laying his head there. "So wet already. Who made you this wet, hm?" He presses a finger into the wet spot. "Oh- you did. You did, Matt." She sighs, finally getting touched where she needed it the most.

Lifting his head up, he presses a kiss to her covered cunt and loops a finger under her thong and moves it to the side. Thanks to her sunset lamp and fills the room with its orange glow, he's able to see her swollen clit and glistening folds. "Look at that, you're dripping." He thumbs at her swollen clit. Matt pulls away, and tugs her thong off throwing it before going back to her center.

He swiped his tongue from her achy hole to her clit. "Taste so sweet, can't believe I've been missing out on this for so long." He goes in for another lick. "Shit!" She moans, bringing her right hand to tug on his hair. "Mm, keep pulling my hair like that." The vibrations of his groan affect her pleasure and gets her even wetter if it was possible. Matt continues to lap at her pussy as he can't get enough of her unique taste. "So fucking good." He pulls his mouth off, replacing his mouth with his fingers.

"So good, Matt. Fuck." She brings a hand up to her tit and squeezes it. He inserts a finger into her and sucks her clit into his mouth. "Holy shit." She cries, covering her mouth instantly as she was loud. "What'd I tell you? Your brother is down the hall. I don't think he'd like to find me between these pretty thighs of yours."

"M' sorry. I'll- shit! I'll- I won't be loud." She can't think straight. Her words coming out in a mumble. Matt continues fucking his finger into her- adding another- and comes up to be face to face with her. "I promise you, next time we'll be alone and you can be as loud as you fucking want. I wanna hear your pretty moans. Wanna hear how good I'm making you feel."

Next time.

There's going to be a next time. "Okay, y- yeah. Next time." She gasps when she feels Matt's warm mouth on her nipple. "Fucking love your tits, baby." He groans, swirling his tongue on her nub. She covers her mouth and cries at the sensation of his mouth on her nipple and his fingers thrusting in an out of her. "I'm close. So, so close. Don't stop." He goes back down and places his mouth back on her. "Mmph, just like that." Her moans are mumbled by her hand covering her mouth.

Once again, the vibrations of his groan from her pulling his hair add on to her building orgasm. "I'm cumming!" She arches her back off of the bed and cums. Matt's fingers slowing keep thrusting in her, riding her through her orgasm. "Fuck." As she grows sensitive, Matt pulls his fingers out and places a wet kiss on her clit and cleans his fingers with his mouth.

He comes up to her and kisses her so she can taste herself on his tongue. "You taste so good, don't you?" He says in between kisses. "Mhm." She hums, inserting her tongue into his mouth and Matt doesn't fight her. Instead, he lets her explore his mouth.

Y/n surprises Matt by flipping them so she'd be on top. In the process of doing so, their lips disconnected from eachother. "Gonna let your best friends little sister ride you?" She says something similar to what he had said earlier. "Fuck yeah." He brings his head behind her head and brings her to his lips.

Her hands come down his chest to the top of his pajama pants. "Want them off?" He asks. "Yes, want your underwear off too." She kisses his jaw before getting off his lap so he can take his bottom clothes off. Once he does so, she drools at the sight of his cock. It's the perfect shade of pink. It's big and his tip is leaking with pre-cum. "Look at your pretty fucking cock. So hard. Is it from me?"

She hold him in her hands. Squeezing him as she waits for a response from him. "Just for you, baby. Just for you." He sighs in pleasure, throwing his head back against the headboard. "You're so big. Think it's gonna fit inside me?" She smirks and he groans at her words. "Yes I-" His words are cut off by her lips on his for the hundredth time tonight.

Y/n disconnects her lips from his, a string of saliva connects them partially before breaking. "Ready for me to ride you?" He nods. "Wait- what about a condom." He reminds her. "I'm on the pill, unless you still want a condom, I don't mind." She reassures him, reminding he still had options. "Oh okay, no condom is more than okay. Wanna feel you wrap around me." A part of inside of him fills with excitement knowing he'd be able to feel her fully. Y/n sits up on her knees and lines his tip up with her hole.

As she sinks down on his length. They moan. "You're so warm." Matt lulls his head back. Y/n closes her eyes in pleasure as she feels him stretch her. "Fuck- I feel you so deep inside me." She fully sinks down. Y/n waits a few seconds before she starts moving.

"Look at you, riding me in the middle of the night." He says with a hand on her ass as she rolls her hips. "You feel so good, babe." The pet name flows easily out of her mouth. She looks down at where they connect and sees the outline of his dick on her lower belly and she whines. "Fuck, Matt. Look at this- feel it." She grabs his hand and places it on where the bulge forms and she bounces up and down.

Matt groans and he feels his cock in her when she moves up and down. He takes his hand out and sees the bulge. "Holy shit. So fucking hot." He moans, looking up at her bringing his hand to her jaw and pulling her towards him to reconnect their lips. As she rolls her hips, their kiss is interrupted by moans, pants and clashing teeth.

"Keep going, baby. Keep fucking yourself on my cock." He rests his head back on the headboard and rubs her left ass cheek before spanking. "Oh! Again, fuck, do it again." She whimpers. "You like that? You like being spanked?" Matt soothes the raw area by rubbing it before spanking it again.

"Mm, I'm so close!" She continues rolling her hips against hers. "Me too, shit! Keep doing that!" He rolls her nipple between his fingers. With a couple more rolls of her hips, they both come undone together. "Shit!" "Fuck! I'm cumming!" They both moan out together. Y/n helps them ride out their high until their both sensitive.

Y/n slowly lifts her hips and Matt looks to where they're connected and sees his cum drip out of her. "Baby, shit. Look at my cum dripping out of you." He hisses. She plops herself next to Matt and lays her head on his chest.

"Well, that just happened." She lets out a breathy laugh, wiping her hair that's stuck to her forehead. "Yeah, it did." Matt giggles, pressing a kiss to her head. "Do you know what time it is?" She looks up at him. "Not sure." Matt grabs the nearest phone he sees and checks the time. "It's three- oh no." His face drains from its color. "What is it?" She sits up, bringing the blanket to cover her chest.

Matt flips the phone- her phone- to her and sees the message that sits unopened.

daniel

what the actual fuck?!

"Oh my god."

[ashleysturn]

changing room - matt sturniolo

context: you go shopping for a new swimsuit with your best friend matt

nsfw.

<———————————————➰———————————————>

i have a huge crush on my best friend matt. he’s taking me to the mall today because he’s been out of town filming all week with his brothers. i know this isn’t a date but i wish it was. i don’t want things to be weird between us.

-

i hear matt’s car pull into my driveway. i scurry to put on some lipgloss and spray my favorite perfume. i grab my purse and walk downstairs.

i hear a knock at the door

“come in!”

my front door opens “hey y/n!”

“hey matt!” i run up to matt and hug him, i’ve missed him.

“you ready? i left the car running”

“oh yeah sorry!” i slip my shoes on and walk out to the porch. i lock the door behind me.

<———————————————➰———————————————>

“so how was the trip?” i ask matt as we approach the mall

“pretty good, glad to be home though. nicks gotta edit all weekend”

“yeah i bet” i smile at him. god i’ve missed seeing his pretty face.

“so which store you wanna go to first?”

i look around the map of the mall. i haven’t been here in forever.

“i need a new swimsuit” i point to a summer shop on the map

matt takes a deep breath “okay.” he follows behind me into the store

i start looking around at the different options. i grab a few to try on and set them in my basket.

“i’m going to try these on” i smile and hold up the few swimsuits that i had picked out.

he nods his head “alright. i’ll just wait here.” he leans against the wall outside of the changing room.

i go into one of the little rooms and set down my basket on the bench. why do they make these rooms so small?

i try on the first bikini- it’s baby pink. the bottoms are high waisted and has that scrunch that defines your butt. the top has thin straps and is almost too thin of a fabric.

i open the door to the changing room “i’m not sure about this one.” i step out to show matt

he turns around and his eyes widen as he looks me up and down.

“what do you think?” i do a little 360 to show him the back

“i- uh it’s cute” his adam’s apple bobs as he swallows

“not the one though.” i shrug, heading back into the changing room.

the next bikini is periwinkle with a floral pattern of other shades of purple and blue. the bottoms fit me perfectly, hugging my curves. the top is strapless with some frill.

“i like this one!” i say through the door as i check myself out in the mirror

“can i see?” matt says. i step out of the room

“woah”

“woah?” i repeat back, smiling

“you like it matt?” i do another 360 to show the back.

“yeah i do” he scratches the back of his neck

am i making him flustered?

“i’m going to try on the last one” i step back into the changing room.

the last swimsuit i grabbed wasn’t a bikini, it was a one piece but i figured i’d give it a try because it looked great on the mannequin. it was one of those swimsuits that had the cutouts on the sides to emphasize your curves. the back was open aswell.

i slide on the swimsuit but the straps get tangled in the back

“hey matt? can you help me untangle this?”

“are you dressed?” he asks

“yeah the straps are just tangled” i unlock the door and he steps in

he closes the door behind him and steps towards me. i’m standing facing away from him in front of the mirror.

obviously flustered, matt asks “uh what am i supposed to do again?”

i laugh “the straps.” i pull my hair over my shoulders revealing the back of the swimsuit and the twisted up straps.

matt runs his fingers over the hem of the swimsuit and starts untangling the straps

the gentle touch of his fingers brushing against my back and neck sends goosebumps raising all over my body.

“there” matt says stepping back

“thanks. what do you think?” i say, turning to face him

matt looks me up and down. he reaches out his hand to trace my curves

“i like the cut out” he says quietly.

“let me see the back again” he suggests

i turn around and he takes in the view.

“damn y/n” he shakes his head

“we’ve got a winner?” i laugh

“mhm” he nods. “i’ll buy it for you”

“oh really?”

he nods. “yeah of course”

“thank you!” i turn around and hug him. he wraps his arms around my waist

“you’ve gotta take it off for me to pay for it though” he whispers into my ear, tightening his grip on my waist.

his voice sends shivers down my spine. “can you help?” i tease

“oh of course” he laughs, turning me back around to face away from him

he runs his fingers over my shoulders and pulls the straps down my arms.

i pull the swimsuit the rest of the way down and discard it on the floor

matt comes up behind me and runs his hands up my exposed body. i reach back and tug at the waistband of his sweatpants. he promptly pulls both his pants and boxers down

he pushes on my back and i bend over, using the bench to hold myself up. he runs his hands down my back and grips onto my hips

“you don’t know what you do to me y/n” matt groans

i arch my back and he steps forward, lining himself up with me before pushing himself into me in one thrust, not giving me any time to stretch around him

“fuck matt!” i yell out from the mixture of pain and pleasure.

matt pumps in and out of me, the sound of our skin slapping together fills the cramped room.

he has one hand gripped onto my hip, the other intertwined in my hair.

“oh fuck y/n, mmmh” matt whimpers.

my stomach ties up in a knot and my walls pulsate around his dick. “fuck matt-“ i moan.

matt pumps inside me a few more times, letting me ride out my orgasm. he then pulls out and paints my. back with white, letting out low moans.

he lets his grip on my waist and hair go, his hair sticks to his forehead as he pants, catching his breath.

“let me clean you up pretty girl” he wipes off my back and gathers up our clothes. he gets dressed and steps out of the changing room, allowing me to gather myself.

<———————————————➰———————————————>

i step out of the room, now dressed, carrying the black swimsuit.

“ready to check out?” matt reaches for his wallet.

“yeah” i laugh

“i’ll have to take you shopping more often.” he winks, leading me to the checkout counter.

<———————————————➰———————————————>

quick-ish one today, i lovedddd writing this. hope yall like it 🫡

send reqs 😚

[luveline]

hotch’s daughter and him looking thru baby n childhood pics n realizing just how much they missed angst (her missing out on having a present father n him missing out on raising her)

Aaron’s winded when he sees you that morning. You’re smiling, in sweatpants and a hoodie with a bag on your shoulder that promises an overnight stay, but what hits hardest is the way you light up when he opens the front door. He sees you coming through the window and can’t wait for you to knock. 

“Hey, honey, you’re early!” he says. 

“I know,” you say, stopping just a paving stone away, “but I got this magic jigsaw for Jack that I thought he’d like. Once you complete it you can move it around and create a new jigsaw in the middle.” You smile. “You look happy. Good breakfast?” 

“I’m happy to see you, that’s all.” 

You cross that last step. “Thanks, dad.” You bite your bottom lip, ever so slightly bashful. 

He literally couldn’t be happier. “Did you eat?” 

Aaron brings you inside. Jack is already awake and eating his second breakfast in a meandering picking by the TV. 

You love being a big sister. It’s all the more endearing. “Hey, babe. What are you upto?” you ask. 

Jack whirls and sends a couple of grapes flying. “Oh my gosh yes!” he says, to your laughter and Aaron’s disbelief. He races across the rug in a blur of blue pyjamas to wrap himself around your thighs, face pressed to your hip. “You’re here!” 

“We said Saturday sleepover, right?” 

You get down on your knees to hug him. Your arms around his back, your face to his, you aren’t as rough as you could be —how do sisters hug their brothers? Aaron doesn’t know. But you rub his back in a gentle up and down and lower your voice to say hello. “Hi, Jack. You’re happy to see me?” 

“I’m so happy.” 

“Me too, I’m so happy. I brought you something.” 

“A present?” Jack asks, leaning out of your arms. 

“Not really, it’s for me and you, but I brought you cookies too.” 

“Dad,” Jack says, “can we have some?” 

Aaron holds up a finger. One cookie is enough sugar for the morning. “We can have a couple more after dinner tonight, okay?” 

You take the cookies from your bag, a huge box of palm-sized cookies, chocolate chips shaped like stars, the best kind of indulgence from the bakery not far from here. Aaron catches a look at the inside of your bag, spying a slim white photo album against your weekly medication divider and the plastic wrapped jigsaw puzzle. 

“What’s the album?” he asks. 

“Oh.” You slide your thumb along the sticker that seals the cookies and crack them open for Jack to take his spoils. “They’re my baby photos.” 

He stills. “They are?” 

“And some of me growing up.” You tip your head at him and smile. A little shy, more happy. “I was thinking about Jack, how we both do that chokey laugh when we’re tired, and I wondered if we had any other similarities. And then I realised you’ve never actually seen any of my photos. Would you want to look at them?” 

“Please,” he says immediately. “Yes. I’d love to see them.” 

You lay the album out on the coffee table. Aaron sits beside you on the couch, and Jack sits on his feet, and together you look through your baby album one page at a time. At first, he’s quiet. He has no idea what to say. You are a beautiful kid, you’re perfect, little baby you with a pacifier on your tummy, or in the summer sun with mud on your little hands, wearing a pink dress with matching canvas shoes and a smile so wide he can see all your baby teeth, or sitting beside a fish tank with a party hat on. 

His favourite is a photograph of you that’s been printed oddly, more sepia than colour, where you look to be eight or nine years old. He can see everything in your adult face right there in ink, your smile, the trusting warmth in your eyes when you love the person it’s directed at. Maybe he’s full of himself, but he swears it’s his smile, and Jack’s smile. Hotchner through and through. 

“I wish I’d seen you in person,” he says quietly. “Just once.” 

You tease the photograph from the plastic sleeve and offer it to him. “Sorry.” 

He doesn’t want you to be sorry. Aaron takes the photograph and stares at it against his leg, your little face, your hands behind your back, your left knee wrapped in a bandage. “We missed out on so much,” he says softly. 

“I know.” 

He places the photo on the armrest, precious and needing a frame. You melt into his arm as he wraps it around your shoulder, and you let him kiss your temple, even if he doesn’t deserve to do it yet. He’s polite about it, he knows his sincerity might feel gratuitous to you —after all, he missed out on so much. But you don’t go rigid at his affection, you just breathe. 

“I would’ve loved to have seen it,” he says, too old for tears, and yet a warmth collects behind his eyes anyhow. He won’t cry, only the feeling is there and aching as you move back and give him a typical Hotchner smile. Like he’s being silly, and like you love him. 

“It’ll be okay,” you say, “you’ve got, what, a good ten years left? You can see my golden years.” 

He laughs suddenly. “Ten? How old do you think I am?” 

“You act like you’re nearing seventy.” 

“Oh, I do?” 

You roll your eyes and lean across the photo album for another cookie. “You do! I wish we didn’t have to wait so long to meet, but it’s not like I’m going anywhere. You won’t find me so charming in a few years, so don’t worry. Now, could you leave me and Jack alone for a bit? I’m trying to sneak him another cookie and you’re getting in the way.” 

Aaron hugs you whether you want him to or not, a tight squeeze that you always seem to enjoy, before doing as you’ve asked, promising to find the jigsaw board in the garage so you and Jack can start the newest one. 

“Did you miss him?” he hears Jack asks inexplicably. 

“Who, dad?” Aaron watches you from the door that leads into the garage. He can only see your hands from this angle, your left one landing on Jack’s shoulder for a small squeeze. “I missed him so much you couldn’t believe it.” 

“Thank you for the cookie.” 

“You’re welcome! I missed you too, you know? I have to make up for all my lost time being your big sister. Here, you can hide this one in your pocket, if you want. Just don’t forget it’s there.” 

[rafeandonlyrafe]

easter day

words: 1.3k

warnings: 18+ only, smut, dad!rafe, mom!reader, fluffy and cute, talk of pregnancy, p in v sex

“when are they getting here?” rafe questions, hands on your hips, leaning over your shoulder to look at the counter where you're finishing frosting the sugar cookies with various pastel colors.

“uhh…” you glance at the clock. “any minute now.” you set down the piping bag as you finish the last detail and turn to look at rafe, changing your voice to a whisper. “are all the eggs hidden?”

“yup.” he nods. “and i already told harper that the small blue ones are for her brother so to let him get the easy ones. the easter bunny told me specifically.”

“smart.” you chuckle, letting rafe pull you in and press your lips together.

“i do just have one complaint.” rafe says, hands moving from your hips to grip your bum. 

“and what would that be?” you look at your husband, one eyebrow raised.

“this dress.” rafe shakes his head. “you look too good in it, you're practically begging me to put a third kid in you.”

“not until elijah is two, remember?” you remind rafe.

“he's 18 months, that's practically two!” rafe lies through his teeth, his grin turning mischievous, knowing just how big of a difference six months can make in a baby's development.

“ill tell you what…” you run your hands up rafes chest. “why don't we sneak away when my parents get here? you know they act like we don't exist anyways.”

you can't blame them, harper just turned 5 and is a handful, which is only added to by elijah. while he's an angel, he's still a toddler and will get into anything and everything if you turn your back for even a minute.

“sounds perfect.” rafe gives you another kiss as harper runs into the kitchen, elijah still distracted in the corner in his bouncer.

“mommy!” she squeals, launching herself at you. you pick her up and easily turn her so she's on your hip. “mommy, mommy.” she continues. “the easter bunny came! i saw eggs in the backyard!”

“oh, yay!” you bounce her slightly as elijah giggles, reacting to harper's excitement. rafe heads to the bouncer and lifts him out.

“and look, mama made cookies.” you show her the frosted sugar cookie eggs and baby chicks. “and i left a couple unfrosted for you to do with grandma and grandpa!”

harper lets out another squeal and wiggles excitedly. “elijah, gammy and gamps are coming over!”

rafe chuckles at her mispronunciation. it started when she was first learning to talk and their names haven't changed since, even elijah calling them their nicknames.

there's a knock at the door and harper wiggles out of your arms to run towards the front, quickly followed by you and rafe, who unabashedly checks you out as harper opens the door to your parents.

“harper!” your mom steps in, wrapping her in a big hug, completing it with pressing kisses all over her face.

“and there's my little man.” your dad takes elijah from rafes arms, whose happy to give him up, itching to get that alone time with you.

you quickly usher your parents in, showing them the unfrosted cookies and other activities to keep your kids attention. 

“rafe and i are gonna go finish their easter baskets.” in truth you've had their baskets finished for a week now, but there's no reason for them to know that.

“okay, that's fine dear.” your mom says, barely glancing to you as harper grabs a butter knife covered in pink frosting.

you grab your husband's hand, and he practically sprints up the stairs, pulling you right along with him into your bedroom.

“god, you knew this would happen didn't you?” rafe questions, hands gripping at your dress, pulling it up as he backs you up towards your bed, keeping the door slightly cracked so you can hear if anyone comes up the stairs. “you know i can't resist this dress.”

you keep your sundresses at the front of your closet, wearing them whenever you find a reason to, purely because of how rafe reacts to them.

“stop talking and hurry up.” you chastise rafe, fingers swiftly undoing the buttons of his crisp shirt until your hands can delve in and feel his muscles.

“yes, ma’am.” rafe smirks, lowering you onto the bed as his lips find yours again, fingers coming to your underwear to feel the wet spot that has started to form. his fingers swipe over the material until you’re moaning quietly, eyes shut.

“god, need to get inside you.” rafe groans, standing to undo his shorts and grab a condom from the nightstand as you take your underwear off, tossing them in the general direction of your hamper. 

you use the moment of silence to listen, seeing if you can hear anything coming from downstairs, but all seems to be calm as rafe pulls your hips to the edge of the bed, lining up his cock with your entrance.

rafe sinks in slowly with a low groan as you gasp, gripping the bed sheets. its been far too long since you’ve been able to have a moment alone like this.

“so good, mama.” rafe wraps your legs around his hips as he begins to move, thrusting in and out of you, thumb already rubbing over your clit, knowing you both need to cum and get downstairs as soon as possible.

“yeah, feels good.” you whine, covering your mouth with your palm as you let out noises, rafe always able to get the sounds out of you even when you should be quiet.

rafe moves faster, cock pushing at your walls, stretching you open for his length.

“shit.” rafe groans. “we need to convince your parents or aunt wheezie to take them for a weekend.”

“mmm, that’s exactly what we need.” you nod. you know that you’d probably end up pregnant again if you had an uninterrupted weekend with rafe, you already feel the urge to reach down and pull the condom off of him, but the thought of dealing with elijah at his current age while pregnant has your mind clearing quickly.

“or we can start sending elijah to daycare once a week.” rafe says, glad that the conversation is helping quell his orgasm somewhat, not wanting to burst inside of you too early.

“fuck, whatever it takes to get more of this.” you push at rafes stomach. he takes a step back as you flip over on the bed, toes touching the floor as you turn onto your stomach.

“god, i wanna marry you all over again.” rafe pushes quickly back insides, thrusts now speeding up as his hands grip your ass, squeezing it and watching the way it jiggles with every thrust.

you push your hand below your body to touch your clit, rubbing it in pace with rafes cock pushing inside of you, pressing your face into the mattress to drown out your noises.

“gonna cum, baby.” rafe warns, cock swelling inside of you before hes releasing with one more deep thrust, triggering your own orgasm as your body shakes.

rafe pulls out, flipping your dress back down over your ass just in case someone sneaks upstairs as he discards of the condom and redresses before heading back to you, helping you turn over to sit on the edge of the bed.

“i love you.” rafe coos, pressing kisses to the top of your head as you lean against him.

“i love you too.” you take his hand in his. “and we should get back downstairs before they get suspicious.”

���absolutely.” rafe nods, following you out the bedroom and down the stairs, leaning in to whisper in your ear when he sees everyone is still occupied with frosting cookies, a smear of orange frosting across harpers nose. “and don’t think i forgot that you aren’t wearing panties anymore.”

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[princessbrunette]

so i know i always say that rafe is strictly a girl dad. well, he is. but sometimes i like to humour myself with the universe where he’s the father to the sweetest little boy ever.

the universe would be ironic like that. rafe foolishly knocked you up when he was 22 — the boy still having alot to learn. he was still walking around with that pistol tucked into his waistband, fighting pogues, mouthing off and going on coke rants. you had been terrified, wondering what kind of a father rafe was going to be — even when he promised time and time again, “i’m — i’m getting my shit together alright? i can, hey — we can do this? okay?” with sweat gathered at his hairline and tears in his eyes. thus, when the universe decided to play the hilarious prank which was having the doctor tell you ‘its a boy!’, your first thought was ‘shit.’

because he was bound to be just like rafe, right?

you had seemingly prophetic visions, a spoiled little brat — just like his father was, thundering around in a brightly coloured ralph lauren polo from the baby range, demanding the teet when he saw fit. a girl would have been fine — you’d seen wheezie grow up around rafe and turn out totally fine (aside from the likely trauma.) but a boy? what did rafe cameron know about raising a boy? was your son next up to become a drug slinging, pogue hating, maniac? (with no offence to rafe of course, you were unfortunately very much in love with him but contrary to popular belief that did not disrupt your common sense.)

rafe was over the moon about you being pregnant with a boy too, which did little to comfort you.

the anxiety subsided the second that baby was out of you, his sticky, slimy little body placed onto your chest with rafe crowding your space — his bravado dropped for a second to reveal a childlike awe. his own baby. you could tell it was only now that things became very real for rafe. his eyes well up, covering his shaky grin with an even shakier hand, saying stuff like “shit, oh uh nah i probably shouldn’t cuss infront of the baby anymore right? yeah… my god, you did it baby. brought me my boy. should be so god damn proud.” he croons as his hands dig affectionately into your sore shoulders, smearing a kiss to your sweaty temple. “ahh, aha — what the hell kinda man am i cryin’ at this huh? shit.” he sniffles as he wipes his eyes but you’re not listening. you’re staring at your perfect boy.

he grows into something perfectly reminiscent of both you and rafe’s features, all whilst smushed into the cutest baby you’ve ever seen. you were aware every parent said that about their child, but no — you were certain. he was pampers commercial level cute. ‘top ten cutest babies’ buzzfeed article level cute. sarah would often hold him to her chest and something would be healed as she’d whisper “i can’t believe you came from my brother.” into his wispy hair. he was a true blessing.

with big doe eyes that took up half his face and an appearance that somehow replicated a baby lamb that had been turned into a human on the basis of a magical spell — you had long forgotten about your worries regarding having a boy.

a few years down the line and not much has changed. your baby boy is three years old, chubby fists clutching his empty plastic lightening mcqueen plate as he toddles out onto the porch where rafe sits spread out opposite barry, sipping on a can of beer in the early evening. your son is distracted by a decorative plant, and the two men pay him no mind as they continue talk.

“but — but that’s the thing, right, barry? i dont do that shit anymore and… and i sure as hell am not looking to start again.”

“man i get that rafe you a father now, all serious and shit but think about the money. you thinkin’ with your husband head and not with your cameron head. your daddy was a piece of shit but he had that business mindset that you gotta adopt, bro.”

rafe’s expression flattens, finishing his can before leaning forward onto his elbows. “well uh, newsflash — i don’t wanna be anything like my dad. now if we’re done here…” rafes attention is caught by the mini him waddling into view, holding his plate infront of him.

“more please?” comes the sweetest voice in the world, blinking up at the man he viewed as his entire universe, much like you at times.

“finished your icecream already huh? where’s your mom?” he cranes round, but doesn’t bother searching much further when he hears the padding of your footsteps.

“aye buddy, you know we was just talkin’ about you.” barry leans forward with a smarmy grin and your son gets shy, lifting his shoulders practically to his ears and looking down, glueing himself to rafes leg.

“conversations done, actually.” rafe reminds him, lifting the boy to sit on his hip as he hoists himself to stand. as he does so, you appear in the doorway to the patio— sundress clad belly swollen with another baby.

“rafe could you bring him in? it’s too hot out there for him without his hat.” you furrow your eyebrows, deciding to ignore barry’s presence all together, which of course doesn’t stop him from conversing.

“shit, i ain’t seen you in a while mama. he got you again? you two stay busy, huh?” rafes oldest ‘friend’ chuckles, gold tooth glinting in the sun light, and like your only child — you shy away, sending rafe a parting glance that said ‘just hurry up and rid of him.’

rafe adjusts the baby boy on his hip, now staring down at barry.

“talk to my girl again n’i’ll bring out the old me alright, you don’t want that. go do somethin’ barry, i don’t care what it is just get off my goddamn property yeah?” rafe drawls tiredly, crushing the can in his hand and dropping it carelessly into the wastebin beside barry before heading inside, your son turning to stare sweetly at the dark haired man over his dads shoulder, offering a sticky, wide fingered salute in parting.

atleast rafe was still his usual charming self, son or not.