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zoofzoofxx · 17 days

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“OH MY GOD THAT’S JOOST KLEIN!”

(Pt. 2)

Pairing - Joost Klein x fem!reader

Summary - Following an attempt to ignore Joost and act as though nothing had happened, you both meet on a rainy day while waiting for the bus. He offers you a ride but first takes you out for a dinner and shows you the beauty of Amsterdam at night.

Genre- fluff, maybe little bit of angst.

Mentions - @dozcan123 , @multifilmfan & @mrschandlerbing

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About three months back, something went down with Joost Klein. We chatted at first, but then I got busy, and Joost wouldn't quit trying to get in touch. I brushed off his messages until I finally blocked his number. After that, he stopped trying to reach out on other social platforms. I felt a bit guilty, but I figured he probably moved on. Sometimes I thought about unblocking him and telling him how I felt, but when I saw he was into Eurovision, I hesitated. 3 weeks ago, he dropped a track called Europapa, and it blew up. The song brought back memories of Joost, making me consider going to Eurovision with my sister. Lost in thought, a message from my best friend Zofia interrupted me, signaling her arrival. We decided to grab a drink and catch up, with Zofia's unexpected entrance and our trip to a nearby bar helping clear my head.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ 3 hours later ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

I checked my bus app to see when my bus will arrive. I still had 35 minutes left but the walk wasn’t short so basically I already should be on my way. I escorted my best friend to her place; she was completely wasted, and so was I. It was the usual routine - she'd get super drunk, I'd have to take her home, and then make sure I got back to my flat safely at night. I glanced at my friend before asking if she could at least get ready for bed and sleep. She agreed, closed the door, leaving me alone. I turned on maps to find the nearest bus stop direction, and just as I did, a few raindrops fell on my screen, signaling the impending rain. And sure enough, it started pouring. I began to run, and as I was about to cross the street, a car came speeding towards me, honking loudly, nearly hitting me. Shocked, I turned around, not knowing what to do. The car was already gone, so I tried to forget the scary moment and went to sit on the bench at the bus stop just a few steps away. Sitting there, rain pouring down on me as there was no roof over the bench, I stared at the ground, hoping the bus would arrive soon, even though I still had 10 more minutes to wait in the cold rain.

“Y/n?” A low male voice with a pronounced Dutch accent addressed me. I turned looked up to find a recognizable individual standing directly in front of me. I was taken aback by the sight of him drenched from head to toe, standing there as confused as I was.

"Joost?" I uttered, rising to my feet and adjusting my coat. An extended pause ensued, with neither of us certain of how to initiate this dialogue.

"It was you crossing the street? Please be more cautious next time," he began, causing my eyes to widen in surprise.

"I apologize." I glanced aside and then back at him. He appeared altered. His hair had brightened notably, nearly reaching a platinum blond tone. His demeanor was grave. It seemed like he wasn't content to see me, and frankly, I wasn't excited either.

"How are you?" Were the only words that escaped my lips.

"I'm good. Have you been drinking?" He inquired, moving a bit closer, though there was still a noticeable gap between us. I caught a whiff of his cologne once more. It was the same scent from three months back when he assisted me in zipping up my jacket.

"Tipsy, not drunk," I corrected him, settling back onto the bench, which was once again damp. I glanced down at my shoes, feeling embarrassed.

"I can catch a whiff of the alcohol from here," he remarked, and I simply pouted, unsure of how to respond. He moved closer and settled beside me. Our shoulders brushed together. In a sudden impulse, I rested my head on his shoulder, shutting my eyes and relishing the moment. It dawned on me how much I had missed Joost.

"Y/n, do you want a lift?" Joost interrupted my thoughts. I hesitated a lot, unsure if I should say yes or no.

"Sure." I say standing up. He stood up as well, and I just followed him. It was a 1-minute walk until we arrived at the car I almost got hit by. I sat in the passenger seat and inhaled the scent, Joost's specific cologne mixed with cigarettes. I yawned, leaning on the window. He started his car, and we drove through the city. There was complete silence between us until there was a loud growl. I covered my stomach with my arm and started to daydream about what I would eat when I arrived home.

“What are you doing?” I inquired as Joost made a sudden right turn.

“I’m starving, do you like McDonalds?” He asked and I furrowed my brows.

"I suppose so, but I've got some food at home, so I'll decline," I replied, earning a chuckle from the blonde guy.

"Ha, that's totally a classic mom move: 'We've got food at home,'" he mimicked, leading to a moment of silence as we both pondered our next words.

"It's on me." He stated, breaking the silence as he parked his car in the parking lot and switched it off.

"Please," he uttered, casting me those identical pleading eyes as during our initial encounter. Exhaling deeply, I release my seatbelt and unlatch the car door.

"Macdonalds around midnight just hits differently," Joost remarked as he savored his first bite of the Big Mac.

"Would you like some?" He inquired, flashing me a comforting smile.

"Thanks, but I'm good," I replied, smiling back, enjoying my chicken nuggets. I noticed Joost eyeing them, so I pushed the box towards him and nodded, signaling he could give them a try.

"May I?" He inquired, gazing at me. He looked very handsome. His beautiful blue eyes peered through his thick-framed glasses. He wore a Burberry scarf around his neck. His sharp jawline was what made him truly attractive.

"Sure," I replied, looking down, aware that I was blushing intensely.

"You know I've never tasted chicken nuggets," he remarks as he takes one, slyly snatching the sauce I was using. He sampled the nugget while I indulged in some French fries that I also relished. I glanced out the window; it was entirely dim outside. Then I shifted my gaze back to Joost.

"Why did you block my number?" He inquired out of the blue. I sat upright, unable to provide a response to his query.

"I was occupied," I replied curtly, feeling a bit anxious that this conversation might escalate. He simply nodded, unsure of what to say. After a moment of contemplation, he finally broke the silence.

"Occupied with someone?" He inquired, prompting me to tilt my head slightly. I needed a moment to ponder and craft a thoughtful response. I wasn't preoccupied with anyone. I was simply engrossed in self-care, focusing on my mental well-being, striving to improve my life even just a little. My daily routine felt monotonous - waking up, having breakfast, heading to work, eating dinner, sleeping, and repeating the cycle. I grew weary of this routine. I longed for my parents, my younger sister, and the carefree days of childhood.

“No.” I replied dryly, as I took my final sips of coke. Joost had already pushed the box back, but I nudged it back to signal that he can have the last nuggets. He accepted the food, pondering his response before blurting out something foolish.

“So you were occupied with…?” He prompted me to complete the sentence. I simply sighed in response.

"My mental health," I respond, causing his eyebrows to shoot up in surprise.

"You could have informed me that you were having a tough time. I would have been there to support you," he says, gazing at me with concern.

"I just needed some time to myself," I say, hoping to end this conversation.

"You know, I felt foolish when you blocked me. You could have simply mentioned you weren't interested in me, and I would have backed off," he says, sitting upright, with a hint of remorse in his eyes as he gazes at my hands. I was fidgeting with my sleeve.

"Feeling tense?" He asks, taking hold of my hand. I wanted to say no, but deep down, I knew I could only answer yes.

"No. Not really." I respond, attempting to avoid the eye contact he's seeking.

"Do you desire any more food?" He inquired, and I simply shook my head to decline.

"Let’s go then." He suggests, gently patting my back. We exited the building together.

"I can walk home from here," I say, glancing at him. He was tall and had a very masculine appearance.

"Can I accompany you home?" He questioned, and unsure if it was a wise choice, I sensed it might be our last meeting for a long time, or possibly never again. Nevertheless, I nodded, and he grinned. We began walking towards my house.

"I like your scarf," I mentioned, breaking the silence. He didn't say anything but gently removed it and wrapped it around my head.

"It looks much more flattering on you," he remarks with a smile, reaching out to grasp my shoulder, drawing me closer to him. Suddenly, he makes a wrong turn.

"That's not the route to my place," I mention, furrowing my brows. I was nearly sober.

"I know. There's a spot I'd like to take you to," he mentions as we reach the bridge. The wind was strong, messing up Joost's hair. He tried to fix it quickly, but it didn't really work. I couldn't help but laugh, and he rolled his eyes, clicking his tongue in response.

"Hey, what's so funny?" he says playfully, giving me a gentle push.

"Nothing," I uttered as he drew me closer once more, and I simply relished the moment. It dawned on me that I was thoroughly enjoying the time with the tall Dutch gentleman. A quiet interval ensued until we reached a bridge. It was truly a sight to behold, and I couldn't resist capturing it in a photograph. Stepping back, I ensured Joost was also in the frame. He glanced at me, posed with a smile, and shaped a heart with his fingers.

"Aww, adorable!" I say with a smile, and he approached without a word. I tucked my phone away, and Joost simply embraced me. No words. No sounds. Just two individuals embracing at the bridge. Two hearts beating in unison.

"I deeply yearned for you," is the only utterance he managed.

"I missed you as well," I reply softly, maintaining the embrace. We linger in the moment before eventually deciding to head back home as the chill of the evening sets in.

"When do you plan to depart for Sweden?" I inquire purely out of interest.

"My manager mentioned they're counting on me to be at the hotel tomorrow," I respond, nodding in understanding.

"Are you not keen on joining me?" He inquired. He had already asked me this question during our meal.

"I'd be happy to join, but I need to find a way to make some money," I respond, to which he pouts in disappointment.

"I comprehend. Please inform me if your decision changes," he states, and I offer a smile. Upon reaching my residence, we bid our final farewells. He mentioned I could keep the scarf but requested something in return. As I lacked valuable items, he noticed my bag and a small keychain, a fluffy pink heart. He inquired about exchanging it, to which I happily agreed, asking if he desired anything else, but he declined. We shared a parting hug, and he mentioned he would text me. After he left, I unblocked his number but never received a message from him again.

A/n - guys I’m so sorry this is so shitty 😭 I feel like I made so much grammar mistakes. English isn’t my native language so if you see any mistakes please contact me 😘 BY THE WAY I DONT KNOW IF YALL NOTICED BUT Y/N’S BEST FRIEND IS ACTUALLY ME 😍😍😍😍😍THANK YOU SO MICH FOR 60 FOLLOWERS ILY! leave a comment behind please it gives me a lot of motivation ✌🏻 I’m actually thinking if I should make a part 3 but idk lmk 😊 PEACE OUT 😇✌🏻LUV U GUYS 🥰❗️💋💋💋💋💋

#joost klein x you #x female reader #x fem!reader #x y/n #x reader #joostkleinxreader #stand with joost #free joost #justice for joost #joost klein #joostice #cute #couple #fluff #angst #last goodbye #part 2 #zoofzoofxx

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kidsorthopedic · 7 months

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What are overuse injuries in the pediatric population?

Overuse injuries in pediatrics refer to a category of injuries that occur when a child or adolescent repeatedly engages in a specific physical activity or sport, placing excessive stress on a particular part of their body. These injuries are common among young athletes who train intensively or participate in a single sport year-round. Overuse injuries can lead to pain, impaired performance, and potentially long-term musculoskeletal issues. Here are some key points to understand about overuse injuries in pediatrics:

Types of Overuse Injuries:Overuse injuries can affect various parts of the body, including:

Growth Plate Injuries: The growth plates, areas of developing tissue near the ends of bones, are vulnerable to overuse injuries.

Stress Fractures: These are small cracks or fractures in bones due to repetitive impact.

Tendonitis: Inflammation of tendons caused by repetitive movements.

Muscle Strains: Overuse can lead to strains or tears in muscles.

Apophysitis: Inflammation of the bony attachment points of muscles, commonly seen in areas like the heel (Sever’s disease) or knee (Osgood-Schlatter disease).

Risk Factors:Several factors increase the risk of overuse injuries in pediatric athletes, including:

Specialization: Young athletes who specialize in a single sport and train intensively year-round are more susceptible to overuse injuries.

Growth and Development: Rapid growth during puberty can change the biomechanics of a child’s body, making them more prone to injury.

Inadequate Rest: Lack of adequate rest and recovery between activities or seasons can contribute to overuse injuries.

Symptoms:The symptoms of overuse injuries may include pain, swelling, tenderness, reduced range of motion, and a decline in athletic performance. Children may also experience pain that worsens with activity and improves with rest.

Prevention and Management:Preventing overuse injuries in pediatrics involves a combination of strategies:

Monitoring Load: Coaches, parents, and athletes should be vigilant about monitoring training loads to ensure they are appropriate for the child’s age and development.

Periodization: Training should incorporate periods of rest, cross-training, and reduced intensity to allow the body to recover.

Proper Technique: Teaching young athletes correct techniques and movement patterns can help reduce the risk of overuse injuries.

Adequate Rest: Children should have scheduled rest days and avoid year-round intensive training in a single sport.

Early Intervention: If an overuse injury occurs, early intervention, including rest, physical therapy, and sometimes bracing, is essential to prevent long-term consequences.

Importance of Multisport Participation:Encouraging children to participate in multiple sports or activities can reduce the risk of overuse injuries by promoting a more balanced use of their bodies and reducing the strain on specific muscle groups and joints.

In conclusion, overuse injuries in pediatrics are a significant concern, especially among young athletes. Preventing these injuries involves a combination of strategies, with a focus on proper training, rest, and early intervention to protect the growing bodies of children and adolescents.

#paediatric orthopaedics kolkata #paediatric orthopaedics india #flat feet correction #diagnose cerebral palsy #club foot treatment

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rafeandonlyrafe · 1 month

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the same tv

words: 1.8k

warnings: 18+ only, smut, unprotected sex, p in v sex, parent death, funerals, robbery, redemption/forgiveness, addiction, drinking (wine, not like hard drinking), tickling, cockwarming, they call themselves kids at one point but at no point are reader or rafe under 18, like itll make sense once you read it in context

the first thing you do when you enter your house is kick off your shoes. the next is to stop holding back your tears as they stream down your face. you can't even sob anymore, just silent, steady tears.

you sigh as you look around the entryway. there's been some changes since you moved away, despite only being out of your parents house for a little over a year. they replaced the grand portrait that was of your mom's parents with one of you, now taking the place of honor.

you look away before you get to the rest of the family photos. you've seen enough at the funeral. you walk further in to the house, bare feet against the shiny wood floor.

you pause when you hear something further in. you haven't forgotten how the old house seemed to speak, groaning and settling during strong winds or when too many people were crammed between it's walls.

this sound seems different, but you're also occasionally sniffling, your ears are shot from blasting music in an attempt to distract yourself, so you shrug it off and walk further into the living room.

the sound suddenly makes sense as you see someone stood in your living room, arms holding up your parents flat screen television, awkwardly trying to carry it.

you aren't even mad. you honestly don't care about the tv. or the fact that someone is trying to rob you.

you let out a bitter laugh before you sink to the floor. “of fucking course this happens.” you are glad you still have your purse slung from your shoulder as you pull your wallet out, quite aggressively throwing it at the robber who has now frozen.

“what?” he questions, lowering the tv to the ground and pushing his hood of his head, a dumb move for someone currently committing a crime.

“this has been the worst week of my life and now you're robbing me. just my fucking luck…” you let out a broken sob. “just take whatever you want and leave.”

the only things that matter to you still in the house aren't actually worth anything anyways. the photos of your parents, your dad's cologne that's half empty, the oak tree that your childhood dog is buried next to.

“i thought the people who lived here died.”

you pick your head up, a look of fury overtaking your face.

“they did. they're my fucking parents! and now they're gone and you're fucking robbing me! get the fuck out!” you stand up, pushing at the robbers chest.

he looks familiar, like you should know who he is but can't place him.

“im-shit. im sorry.” he says, allowing you to shove him away and out the door.

“im really fucking sorry!” he yells again before you slam the door shut.

-- years later --

you park your car in the driveway instead of pulling it all the way into the garage like you know you should, but you need to know if you're correct about the man sitting on your front step.

“you're the kid that tried to rob me.” you say as you walk the sidewalk to the porch.

“yes.” he says, looking ashamed and a whole lot more grown up. “i was an addict and i owed a debt. my dad had just kicked me out of the house and i was on my own for the first time. it was stupid of me, but when i heard the people living here died, i thought it'd be a victimless crime.”

he sighs deeply, like even just thinking back to that time physically hurts. “i didn't even think that someone could have inherited the house. im so, so sorry.”

he swallows thickly. “my mom died when i was young. my dad- my dad just died recently. he faked his death and i got him back, but he's actually gone this time. you know what you said about the worst week in your life?”

you think back those years. it's mostly a blur, especially the days surrounding your parents car crash and funeral, but you do remember breaking down in front of the robber. you nod gently, waiting to hear the end of his speal.

“i know what you mean now. and im sorry i hurt you. im sorry about your parents dying.” he pulls something out of his pocket, extending his hand.

you look into his open palm, realizing it's a ornate gold necklace.

“no.” you shake your head. “you keep it. you don't need to bribe me to forgive you.”

“i want you to have it.” he says. “it's… it's not a lot, but it's something. something to help make up for what ive done.”

you reach forward, carefully taking the necklace out of his outstretched hand, carefully not to accidentally bump his skin.

“thank you.” you say, admiring the way the sun gleams off the metal.

“im rafe, by the way. rafe cameron.”

“y/n.” you respond, undoing the clasp of the necklace.

“here, let me.” he takes it out of your hands, moving quicker than you can think as he steps around you. your hair is already up in a bun, so rafe is able to reach around and easily place the chain around your neck.

“thank you.” the weight of the necklace feels comfortable against your skin, like it's the last finishing touch you need. you are wearing your mother's earrings, your father's bracelet, and now you have the other piece of what made that time in your life so miserable, your robbers necklace.

“i… i guess ill be going now.” rafe says.

you turn and watch him walk away. you recognize so much of your former self in him, the clear grieving he's going through.

“are you sober now?” you call out before he reaches the end of your driveway.

“sober enough.” he shouts back. rafe doubts he'll ever truly be clean, but he can at least manage now, doesn't need the drugs like he used to.

“then come back for dinner tomorrow. we can talk.”

you can see the smile stretch over his features. “ill be there.”

-- three months later --

“shit.” rafe says, head snapping over to you. “this is the same tv.”

you giggle and nod, surprised it took him so long to realize. “i never really watch tv on the actual tv, so no need to replace it.” you shrug, the gold necklace still draped over your neck. you haven't taken it off except to shower and sleep.

“god, thats crazy.” rafe looks over to you. “imagine if we just talked back then.”

you shake your head. “you just think you want that because we get along now. we were both in bad places.”

“you don't think we would have been hooking up back then?” rafe asks, raising an eyebrow at you, watching the way your thighs press together at the mere mention of hooking up, already feeling the urge to sleep with rafe even after having sex only a couple of hours ago.

“we were two scared kids. if we were hooking up we definitely shouldn't have been.” you giggle, reaching your wine glass out for rafe to refill, which he is glad to pour a more than healthy amount in.

“and now?” rafe looks down at his lap.

“and now we are two slighty less scared slightly older kids.” you giggle again, taking a deep sip before leaning across the couch cushion to press a kiss to rafes cheek, the movie you had put on long forgotten.

“rafe.” you wait until he looks you in the eye. “im here for you.”

“god, what have i done to deserve you?” rafe wraps his arm around your waist, pulling you on top of him as he flops back onto the couch.

you let out a laugh before it's cut off with his lips. he kisses you heavily, hand against the back of your head, not allowing you to pull away, not that you want to.

you let himself get lost in your kiss. you wish you had someone to support you in the time you needed most, and you're determined to be that person for rafe now.

rafe easily dominates your mouth even though he's underneath you as you quickly work your shorts off, wiggling against him until your bottom half is nude.

you press against rafes crotch, still covered by his sweatpants. you feel his cock straining against the fabric as you rub your pussy against it, wetting the gray material.

“baby, please.” rafe groans. he would pull his cock out himself, but his hands are preoccupied holding you close to him as if his life depends on it.

“oh, now you don't like teasing?” you smile.

“alright, i deserve this.” rafe also manages a chuckle despite his straining erection. “but please. need to feel your pussy ‘round me.”

“alright.” you roll your eyes dramatically. you'll have to get revenge on rafe at a different time for edging you the other night.

you push his pants down his thighs until you're able to reach into his underwear and pull out his cock. you give him a few quick strokes before lining up your entrance and sinking down.

rafe let's out a moan, barely pulling his face away from yours. “you're so wet.”

“it's almost like i like you or something.” you roll your eyes.

rafe laughs before kissing you again, hand moving up to your hair, tangling his fingers between the strands.

you sit on his cock for a moment, adjusting, before beginning to move, up then down, up then down, subtle movements of your hips, not needing anything fast, wanting drawn out, wanting it to last.

the movie is long over by the time rafe finally cums, a hand finally moving down to rub your clit to make sure you get off at the same time as his.

by the time you're both satisfied, you're sweaty and exhausted. you don't even bother to pull off his cock as you rest your head against his chest.

“thank you.” rafe says softly, rubbing his hand over your back. you don't need to ask what for. you know. for being there. you'll always be there.

you look up at him, a small smile on your face. “how are we gonna tell people we met?”

things are quickly getting serious, and while he hasn't breached the subject with you yet, neither of you have been hiding how quickly you're falling.

“what, you think it's a problem that we met when i was robbing you?” rafe says, making you giggle, only intensified by his hand pressing into your side, fingers tickling you as you howl with laughter.

rafe flips you over onto your back so you're underneath him, keeping his cock pushed inside of you.

“maybe we should just tell people we met on tinder.” rafe shrugs.

you roll your eyes. “somehow that's more embarrassing.”

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thebimbopalace · 2 months

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ᡣ 𐭩 blurb: finals week has put you through the wringer but luckily your handsome, wonderful, caring boyfriend has a special treat for you.

wc: 1k

ᡣ 𐭩 tags: fluffy fluff, sfw, older bf!nanami kento x fem!reader, established relationship, age gap (reader: early twenties, nanami: late twenties), reader’s in college, feminine pet names, teeny angst, one kiss, self-indulgent cause i wanna be loved like this

"keep those eyes closed hun," kento's honeyed voice hits your eardrums as his large hand envelopes yours. he guides you to. . .god knows where, all you know is that you're outside. the soft, calming breeze flows through your hair gently blowing your flowy pink spring dress behind you.

his eyes scan your beautiful ensemble and he thanks whatever deity that's in the sky that you happened to walk into his life one friday afternoon. "are we there yet ken?" you inquire excitedly as you tighten your grip on his hand. he smiles at your excitement "almost," as he tries to stifle a chuckle at your cuteness.

his free hand goes the the small of your back moving you in front of him as you both walk to this destination he spoke of earlier. his expensive cologne invades your nostrils and your body immediately relaxes at the close proximity. "can you at least tell me where we're going?" trying to coax it out of him. "then it wouldn't be a surprise now would it?"

a pretty pout graces your glossed lips as you turn your head to scrunch your already closed eyes at him in a glare. "over here pretty girl," kento teases noticing you turned your head in the wrong direction. you follow the sound of his voice and turn your head in the correct direction of his face, adorable pout still adorning your lips.

"don't pout baby, i promise you'll love it," he chuckles as he presses a quick kiss to your temple. your pout is replaced by a small smile that effectively melts kento's heart into a puddle of goo. you let him lead you to this mystery he's set up. the walk is silent as you take in the sounds of nature. the rustling of the grass as the light air rakes through it, the birds chirping along with the trickle of water in the distance.

you haven't felt this calm in months. college has been a thorn in your side for a while and now that you took all your finals, you're agonizing over your final grades, wanting nothing more than to pass. kento knows this. he's seen how hard you've worked. hours of studying, late nights, and those stressed tears that broke his heart with each stream down your cheeks.

he'd catch each escaped drop with the pads of his thumbs as you were nestled in his lap in a comforting hold. in his arms, you knew nothing would harm you, especially sunday 11:59 pm due dates. and when you submitted your last final exam yesterday, he knew he had to do something big for his special girl. his only girl.

"okay, stop," he utters and your feet come to a halt. you feel the sun kissing your skin as you stand next to kento waiting with nervous-excited butterflies fluttering in your stomach. "open your eyes, baby," he whispers. his candied voice filling your senses increasing the jittery feeling in your gut.

you open your eyes, pupils adjusting to the sunlight and what you see takes your breath away.

a picnic. a beautiful picnic assembled on a vast green field beside multiple tall apple trees. a white plaid picnic blanket is laid flat with various foods. gourmet sandwiches arranged scrumptiously on a sliver oval platter, a full charcuterie board that includes various deli meats, crackers, cheeses, and fruits, a bottle of wine alongside two long-stem wine glasses, and a circle-shaped frosted cake with 'you did it pretty girl!' written in red icing.

not to mention the big bouquet of flowers that lay next to the picnic basket. your favorite flowers at that.

"kento," you mutter softly in disbelief. he really knows how to take your breath away. warmth spreads through your cells, filling you with affection for your lover. no matter how many times he surprises you, no matter how many times he shows you how much he loves you, it never fails to make you tear up.

he pulls you smoothly into his embrace, wrapping his strong arms around your waist. you bury your face into the crook of his neck. "wha—when did—," "last week," cutting you off. "i know college has been putting you through so much hun, i jus' wanted to treat you for working so hard, my smart girl," he coos the last part softly then proceeds to pepper kisses all over your head. like he's kissing your overworked brain.

that feeling of love and safety spreads through your veins like molasses. you savor the feeling. "i don't deserve you ken," you mumble quietly hoping he doesn't hear the insecure tilt in your tone. oh, but he did. his hands trace the curve of your waist sliding up until they reach your cheeks. he cups them in his calloused palms, thumbs stroking the apples of them.

"nonsense sweetheart. not only do you deserve me, but you deserve the world. and i'm going to give it to you, from now until my last breath." loving but determined. nanami kento in a nutshell. and that makes any remnants of insecurity vacate your mind. to prove his point, kento leans in and presses his soft lips against your glossy plump ones in a tender kiss.

not one of lust, not one of eroticism, one of affection. a kiss that says 'you are my love, my heart, my soul, my everything.'

he pulls back, interlocks your fingers in his, and guides you to the picnic blanket. you move to sit down, but not before he places a pillow below you so you don't have to sit on the hard ground. a gentleman through and through. "c'mon hun, can't let this food go to waste, can we?" as he sits on a pillow next to you.

"not with our appetites," you chuckle as you grab a cracker off the charcuterie board and poke a toothpick into a slice of ham. kento laughs with you as he gazes at you fondly. he believes this is where he's meant to be. on a blanket, with you, eating and drinking as the horizon turns orange in front of you both.

and he wouldn’t have it any other way.

#✎ᝰ. ( signed your majesty ) !#nanami kento x y/n #nanami kento x you #kento nanami x reader #nanami kento x reader #nanami kento fluff #nanami fluff #kento fluff #jjk fluff #jjk x fem!reader #jjk x reader #jjk x you

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wandasaura · 3 months

Text

SEE WHATS UNDER THAT ATTITUDE

summary — wanda intends to keep the promise she made to you, but that doesn’t mean you won’t have to work to earn it

warning(s) — established relationship, married wandanat, heavy on the mommy kink, subspace, entrance of the oral fixation, degradation, praise, dumbification, light humiliation, fingering, ¿light nipple torture?, definitely nipple stimulation, teasing, edging, orgasm control, mention of orgasm denial, begging, crying, fake sympathy, biting, oral sex, overstimulation, forced orgasm, aftercare, men/minors dni

authors note — there are some russian exchanges between wandanat toward the beginning, i’ll add translations for at the end but if they’re not correct, blame google translate. this was highly requested so i hope it’s everything you’ve been waiting for!

you are in love universe

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

The bed had been abandoned when you finally came to consciousness. The room was dark, the blinds drawn over the windows and blocking out sunlight, but the peaks of gold that kissed the trim around the windowsill was enough to gauge how late in the morning it was. The first sensation that crossed your mind was the lingering ache on the skin where Wanda’s had unforgivingly struck you half a hundred times, the second sensation that registered was the soft throb in your core that had been left unsatisfied hours earlier. A quiet whine rolled past your lips, filling the silent room with sound that was left unanswered. Your head still felt like it was filled with cotton, thoughts still hazy and disoriented.

Leaving the bedroom behind was a decision made lightly, but the absence of blankets over your shoulders felt like the cruelest punishment as you descended toward the living room. Wanda didn’t work in the office on Friday’s, or at least she tried not to most weeks. Typical Friday’s were spent in quiet company, if Natasha’s stories proved truthful, but the few times you’d spent the day in Westview had come with silence from the redhead who spent hours holed up in her office. It hadn't occurred to you then that she busied herself to avoid you, but with the only indication of her presence in the house coming from the laugh track behind some old eighties sitcom, you realized this was more typical of her routine.

Your footsteps were soft; careful and easy. It wasn’t intentional, nothing felt intentional in this state, but the sweetness of your mood could not be pushed further than soft taps of naked skin and quiet hums that tried to be words but fell flat. Wanda’s head craned in the direction of the stairs when she’d first heard the door creak on its hinges, counting down the seconds until you came into view. It was late, late enough for breakfast to have been eaten and dishes to have been washed, but even one glimpse at you could tell that you were still beneath the confines of subspace. She wasn’t surprised, slightly concerned, but not entirely surprised. She had pushed you farther than anyone ever had last night, careful of boundaries that had been set but still firm with her hand and treatment. She had forced you into submission in a manner that was unkind and dominant, she was not expecting you to stumble down the stairs in a clear state of mind, but the sight of your naked chest still bare of a shirt indicated just how far deep you were.

“Hi, sweetheart.” She smiled at you warmly, and you frowned in confusion when she didn’t incline her head toward the couch. You needed her to tell you what to do, wanted her to keep her grip on the reins and hold them tightly. Sensing your distress at this new sense of control, Wanda frowned realizing that her soft approach would not work you through this limbo. “Come here, baby.” The permission to approach that you had been waiting for finally came, and your feet that wouldn’t carry you forward without it started to move toward her again.

You stood in front of her with a silent question in mind, but Wanda was not willing to budge without the presence of your words. She needed to get you up, and coddling you was only a recipe for disaster. “Is there something you need, sweetheart?” Her approach was gentle, yet firm. Any harder and she would find the opposite effect of what she intended.

You nodded pleadingly, fingers coming up to sit in your mouth the same way hers had been last night. The sensation wasn’t the same, not even close, and that seemed to be too much to handle at this moment because tears that Wanda would deem ‘crocodile tears’ glimmered in your eyes. Even as your reserve crumbled, fingers falling back down to your sides and curling into the soft cotton of Natasha’s sleep shorts, she didn’t waver.

“Words, honey. I know you know how to use them. You used them very well last night.” Wanda tutted, shaking her head at your behavior dismissively. Your mouth opened and closed as you shifted through the haze in your thoughts attempting to string together a coherent sentence that articulated your wants to her.

When no more than a single word came to mind, you decided that had to be good enough, and nimbly you forced it past your chapped lips and into the space between your bodies, hoping it was loud enough to reach her ears, “Hold.”

A smile pulled at the corners of Wanda’s lips and she nodded at you encouragingly. “Of course I’ll hold you, sweetheart.” She pulled her arms away from the closed off position she had been maintaining, opening her posture up for your added weight.

You settled contently against her chest, your legs thrown over her hips. The position allowed relief to come to the sore skin on your bottom, and you hummed in satisfaction at the newfound release. Wanda laughed softly when a look of blissful realization settled on your dazed features, and her nails took full advantage of your exposed back as she placed feather light scratches to your spine. Natasha was fond of being held like this after an intense session, so it was no shock that you had come to like it too. Your head fell onto Wanda’s shoulder, just above the place where her heart sat.

“Nat!” Wanda called for her wife; said wife that you had yet to locate as the rest of the house sat in perfect silence. Natasha wasn’t a loud person, quite quiet actually, but there hadn’t even been an inkling in your mind that she lingered somewhere close, just barely out of sight. Your thoughts had been a one track road to Wanda, but at the call of Natasha’s name you were desperate for her all the same.

You picked your head up from Wanda’s shoulder, searching the room for any trace of Natasha that you could have possibly missed. Wanda smiled at your clear adoration for her wife, but guided your head back down to her chest when she noticed the thick haze coming over your eyes once more. She hadn’t had the pleasure of treating anyone with such tender dominance in years. Natasha was hard to break down to this point, her unwillingness to fully submit a persistent mental barrier, and Wanda was thankful to be useful in this way.

When Natasha appeared, blue light glasses keeping red hair from falling into her eyes, you realized that the reason she had been so hard to spot was because she was hidden away in the dining room, a place the couple rarely sat if it wasn’t for a meal.

“Yeah?” She asked, clearly confused about why Wanda had called for her instead of seeking her out physically, but when her eyes trailed to find her wife’s, she noticed your position against the Sokovian’s chest and a smug smirk pulled at her lips. Even if the bet hadn’t been made, she had still won. “Ona vse yeshche daleko vnizu, da?”

Wanda nodded her head at the question asked in Russian, her hand resuming its delicate scratching along your back. You hadn’t realized you had missed the feeling until it reappeared higher up your spine, but when it did and you weren’t expecting it, you shivered away instinctively. Wanda didn’t take your initial flinch as a reason to stop, and you were thankful because when she persisted, you melted into the touch. “Da, ty poydesh' za odnoy iz svoikh tolstovok? V obozrimom budushchem ya budu zapert zdes'.”

It could have been hours that you sat in silence with Wanda, or it could have been minutes, you honestly weren’t too sure about the passing of time around you, but you knew that you felt cared for, and you knew that you felt loved. You hadn’t understood the words that had been spoken in Russian over top of your head, but when Natasha had let her feet carry her upstairs and into the bedroom, you realized they’d been about you. The hoodie she came down with was soft, and Wanda had helped you into it with a practiced ease. That had been the most movement that had come from you, but Wanda didn’t make a fuss about your chosen stillness. She merely set her eyes on the reruns of old sitcoms, and occasionally whispered something sweet to you that required no verbal response. Somewhere in that mix, you had begun to bite at her shoulder, content to find that the sensation was the same pleasurable one you had found last night, and she hadn’t stopped you from further discovering it. It was when your head had finally cleared that you recognized the signs of hunger in your belly, remembering that dinner had been all but forgotten about last night, and when you pulled away from Wanda, her first instinct was to guide you right back down.

“I’m hungry.” You had protested her guidance, pushing against the hand that cradled the back of your head tenderly until she finally allowed you to sit straight up like you wanted.

“You back with me, dorogaya?” She double-checked, not wanting to blindly take your first coherent sentence as proof that you were fully functioning. She wanted to avoid a subdrop, knowing that it was a less than pleasurable experience and had caused Natasha a thick bout of depressive thoughts the one and only time she had failed to communicate her needs before they spiraled into darkness.

“Yeah.” Despite the clearness of your head, your words were still soft. The only time you ever came across harshly was when you tried to go toe to toe with Wanda. The redhead smiled at your affirmation, guiding you off her lap but not fully releasing control over to you just yet. She grabbed your hand, leading you into the kitchen where pots and pans dried on the mat beside the sink. You pouted, realizing that either her or Natasha had made pancakes and eggs for breakfast, and neither had woken you up to join in on the fun. “You had pancakes without me?” Was the first question that rolled off your tongue, and Wanda shook her head in bemusement that pancakes were your only concern.

“Your body needed the rest, moya lyubov’. I can make you some now if you want.” Wanda suggested, helping you up onto the counter despite your proven capability to do it yourself just fine. You didn’t shrug off her help, rather leaned into it, and pulled her in close when she dared to try and step away. You dropped your head onto her shoulder, feeling a desperate need to have her close. And again if she minded, she didn’t show it.

“I want cereal.” You decided, knowing that the women had cheerios shoved in the back of the pantry beside an unopened box of popcorn that you couldn’t quite place who it had been bought for. You didn’t know why they even bothered to buy anything that came in a box, considering in the near year that you had been frequenting the Maximoff residence you hadn’t seen them eat anything that wasn’t made on the stove, but right now it sounded like the perfect source of energy.

“That’s all?” Wanda frowned, prying your face away from her shoulder and forcing you to look into her eyes. You melted into her touch when she set her gaze on you firmly, pliant and willing in her grip. You hummed, your tongue poking out and swiping at the pad of her thumb that sat within licking distance on your cheeks. “That’s not going away anytime soon, huh?” Wanda laughed softly, pulling her hands away before you could get any bolder. She’d had her suspicions about your oral fixation, something was always in your mouth whether you realized it or not, it was truly only a matter of time before you realized how fun it was to have one of them between your teeth.

“Please?” You pouted, making puppy eyes at the pantry where the box of cheerios remained hidden. Wanda relented, her green eyes rolling backward into her head.

“You’re eating dinner tonight, milaya moya.” You merely shrugged at the compromise, simply glad to have gotten your way for now at the very least. She tapped your thigh in warning of her approaching absence, and though you had expected it to come if you wanted your cheerios, a whine still fell from your lips when she pulled away, instantly missing the warmth she provided.

You’d started to slip down from the counter when Wanda turned back around, only halfway to a pantry before you’d decided she’d been gone long enough. “Stay there, Mommy didn’t tell you that you could move.” The firmness that you had sought for earlier sent a rush of something different through your body hearing it now, but still eager to comply with her demands, you scooted back up onto the counter and tried your best to ignore the lingering ache in your untouched clit. You remembered her promise, remembered how she had so cruelly worked you up and left you dry. You didn’t think you could go another night with the sticky feeling between your thighs.

“Do you want milk with your cheerios, detka?” Wanda asked, her voice slightly muffled by the walls of the pantry that she had disappeared into. You nodded your head, forgetting that she couldn’t see you, but decided that you would just wait until she reappeared to tell her what you wanted. Words still felt too hard to grasp, and secretly you adored this special treatment that you’d never received before. When Wanda stepped out of the pantry, the familiar yellow box now in her hands, she asked again. “Do you want milk, honey?”

You nodded softly, pulling at the string of Natasha’s hoodie though you found them rather boring. You let your feet kick against the cabinet doors beneath where you sat, trying to occupy your attention with something other than the need in your core, having a feeling it wouldn’t be satisfied until you got something into your belly.

It was warm, too warm to be wearing a hoodie but in your foggy mindset and rush to find her, you had forgotten about the fact that you remained only half dressed. You sighed, pulling at the long sleeves until they came to your biceps, but even that couldn’t help you entirely.

“Words, honey.” Wanda reminded you firmly, and you kicked the cabinets beneath you rather harshly in response. You wanted her close to you, and yet she was standing halfway across the kitchen with her recently freed hands on her hips. The box of cheerios was placed on the island countertop, awaiting your direction of adding milk or a bowl or now. Wanda raised a daring brow, tilting her head to the side in a manner that was admittedly intimidating. “We aren’t going to go through this again, milaya. Do you want your cheerios with milk? Yes or no?”

“Yes.” You sighed, deflating on the counter as you itched to get down and cling onto her. You couldn’t comprehend the rush of feelings that overwhelmed your brain in the moment, but it felt like every choice you were forced to make only drove you farther and farther from a position of sanity. You wanted her to decide, wanted her to talk you through every process and choice. You were never this needy, never this dependent on somebody else, but the taste of total submission that you had been given was like a drug elementary schools never warned you about tasting.

“Good girl.” Wanda praised your willingness to comply, already maneuvering around the kitchen to acquire a bowl and the gallon milk from the fridge. You shone beneath her words, a shy smile gracing your lips as you tilted your head down toward your lap and tried to hide the flush on your cheeks. Wanda wasn’t blind to your reaction, but she spared you the embarrassment of knowing you’d been caught.

“Where’s Natty?” You whispered, suddenly realizing the woman was displaced from the pair of you, which was a rarity if you ever knew one. She had been in the dining room before, but now she was gone and yet her laptop remained on the table, the only object in the room that wasn’t in its perfect place.

Wanda smiled softly at your concern, a tad surprised it had taken you this long to realize that the Russian was missing. She didn’t let you dwell in that confusion, wanting your mind focused on one thing and one thing only; her. “Pepper faxed her over some files. Nothing you need to worry about, malyshka. Come eat.”

You wiggled down from the counter with a distinctive delicacy, a stark contrast to the usual faith you put into your ankles. Wanda appreciated your carefulness, smiling at you with unspoken praise that you had no time to hide from before she saw your faintest blush. Unlike every day that had come before this one, Wanda sat down at the island instead of gravitating toward the dining room. You brightened at the prospect of eating here, clamoring into her lap because there was absolutely no chance that you were sitting on your own. It seemed she hadn’t expected you to, because her arm tangled around your waist and her hand found its place on your thigh, dangerously close to where you wanted her most, but still too far away.

“Mommy promised you a reward, didn’t she?” Wanda hummed, her voice laced with a sultry silkness that would’ve been enough to have you weak in the knees on it’s own, but the deadly combination of her lust and her hot breath fanning across the shell of your ear, which Natasha had discovered was incredibly sensitive, was enough to completely melt your self restraint down to nothing.

A gasp fell from your lips, your head tilting to the side and allowing her lips all the room she needed to explore your unmarked skin. Your eyes fluttered closed, thoughts of cheerios dissipating. “Mommy.” You pleaded with her, hoping that she would relent in her teasing measures.

Her wet lips trailed down the side neck, and in the same second cold fingers bearing rings more expensive than you could even fathom moved the collar of Natasha’s hoodie out of her way. The caress of her lips didn’t last long, because as quickly as she’d began to suck a hickey on your collar bone that was sure to last at least a couple of days, she pulled away and the fingers still on your right thigh pinched the warm skin experimentally. “Eat. What Mommy does to your body is none of your concern, little girl.”

A guttural moan left your lips at her dismission, and although your brain was officially nothing but mush between bones, your trembling hand reached out for the spoon. The first mouthful of cheerios was rewarded by her fingers moving toward your core, the second by a sharp nip at the base of your neck. Every bite was followed by pleasure, and by the sixth, it was getting harder to think about anything other than release.

The lack of panties between your thighs had made access to your core disturbingly easy, and when you faltered on the seventh bite of cereal, your pulsing clit was pinched harshly between fingers that were still surprisingly cold. Your hips twitched in her lap, your head falling back onto her shoulder as you surrendered to the pleasure the sharp sensation had provided. Wanda hummed, taking your body's reaction into account for a later date.

“You’re not cumming until you finish eating. I suggest you keep going unless you want to find out how cruel I can be, malyshka.” It wasn’t a threat, but rather a promise, and you whimpered pathetically at the sharp bite to her words that satisfied every craving in your body.

“Mommy.” You pleaded when a single one of her deliciously slender fingers threatened to penetrate your weeping hole, toying with the wetness that had already dampened the pajama shorts on your hips.

“Shh, Mommy’s playing.” Wanda redirected your attention to the bowl of cereal that had become soggy in the minutes it had taken you to even make the smallest dent. You swallowed down a cry of frustration at her unwillingness to fold, but raised the spoon to your lips and forced your mouth to comply with her demands.

Every bite felt heavy and horrible against your tongue, but you somehow managed to persevere, even as her fingers wandered beneath the thick fabric of the hoodie and sought out to find your nipples that had been ignored thus far. At the first brush of her metal rings against your flushed skin you gasped, thankful that you had held off on taking another bite of your lunch because otherwise you would have choked.

“Such pretty sounds, milaya.” Wanda cooed, her lips back against the shell of your ear. Her tongue dared to lick at the skin of your neck, a stream of cold air sending shivers and shocks of pleasure shooting down your spine. “Do you like it when Mommy touches you? Huh? Do you like it when I play with this desperate little pussy however I please?”

“Please.” You writhed in pleasure, your eyes screwed shut impossibly tight. The single finger buried deep within your walls had quickly become two, and they curled against your softest spot with accuracy that should’ve concerned you had you been any more coherent than you were. Her pace was teasing, slow and unfulfilling, but that was entirely the point. “M-Mommy please!”

“Mommy’s not going to tell you no again. Little girls don’t get to make decisions. Little girls wait for Mommy to give them permission, and until she does so, they take what they’re offered.” You cried out in painful pleasure when Wanda sadistically twisted your nipple between her fingers, the sensation shooting right down to your core that wept around her fingers and squeezed them tight. “You can do that, can’t you? Be good for Mommy? Or are you just a dumb little baby?”

“I-I can! I can!” Despite the desperate need for more of anything she was willing to give you, your body tried pleadingly to arch away from her touch when your nipples became too sensitive to handle the sting she caused unforgivingly.

“How do you want Mommy to make you cum? With my fingers, or maybe my mouth? Do you want me to fuck this slutty cunt with a strap-on, are is that too much for my little baby to handle? Oh I bet you're so sensitive, kotenok. Nobody’s ever denied this pretty pussy before, have they?” Wanda’s fingers pointedly avoided your clit, and you're absolutely certain that one accidental touch would have you falling over the edge and into blinding pleasure.

“No!” You sobbed in frustration, your hips meeting her thrusts and she let you, knowing nothing she did would send you over that sought after edge until she let her fingers brush against your pulsing bundle of nerves. She had you right where she wanted you, right where you needed to be, even if you hadn’t realized this was the treatment you’d been wanting just yet.

“Oh, my poor girl. You still have so much to learn.” Wanda cooed though her sympathy was anything but genuine. You pushed the bowl away from you, shaking your head desperately, just needing her to take care of you. “You did so good.” Wanda kissed the side of your head, but her actions contradicted the praise she had fleetingly bestowed upon you. Her fingers left your aching core, effectively edging you as if that had been her goal all along. She smears strings of your arousal against the insides of your sensitive thighs, drying her fingers on your skin. You cried out at the loss of pleasure, desperately grabbing her wrist and attempting to draw it back closer, but she didn’t allow you to win. “I’m not taking you in the kitchen, milaya. You deserve better than that.”

She guided you to your feet easily, a firm hand on your back the only thing that kept you upright when your knees threatened to buckle beneath your full weight. You grabbed at her hand desperately, wanting to keep her close as she led you through the house and up the stairs. Throughout the journey, her lips had found entertainment in seeking out soft spots on your neck that had been otherwise neglected in the kitchen. A shaky moan fell from off the tip of your tongue when her teeth nipped at the edge of your jaw, and in that moment you had forgotten how to walk as you stood stock still and stiff as a board in the middle of the stairs, leaning backward into her touch pleading for more.

“Keep going. Mommy will take care of you soon.” Wanda coaxed, and desperate to listen, you complied with the request, hoping that this time around, soon actually meant what it was supposed to.

When you passed by Natasha’s office, where you suspected the woman had migrated to work on the files that Pepper had sent over, the door was closed and light peaked out from the cracks between floor and white oak. You barely had time to pout about her absence before Wanda was pulling you in the direction of the bedroom, simultaneously making quick work of getting you free of the clothes that you drowned in so cutely. Though Natasha wasn’t much taller than you, the woman had a bad habit of buying clothes three sizes too big if they weren’t going to be worn with the intention of maintaining professional appearances. Despite how you had grown to be too hot in the hoodie that covered your torso, the initial absence of it had caused a rush of cold to assault your spine and you shivered beneath Wanda’s heavy hands. Your shorts were the last thing to fall to the floor in a heap.

“So pretty, malyskha.” Wanda praised your fully naked body, running a single feather light touch down the front of you, starting just below your chin, down between the valley of your breasts, and stopped only just before your throbbing clit begging for release. You gasped and moaned at the ticklish sensations she so easily provoked, chasing her touch when it vanished too quickly. “So responsive too. Mommy’s going to have so much fun playing with you.”

“Please!” You sobbed, wide eyes filled with desperation and need that only she could quench. Your hands trembling with lust and pent up frustration pulled at the hem of the old t-shirt adorning her body, attempting to get rid of it the same way she had done for you.

Complying with your request, not willing to sacrifice her own desperation to fully get her hands on you any longer then she already had, Wanda stripped out of her shorts and t-shirt with ease. One too many office quickies with Natasha had forced her to become sufficient with the act of undressing, and the skills, though rusty from lack of recent use, hadn’t failed her now despite the months it had been since she’d last taken her insatiable wife on the couch in her corporate office. When she was naked, every inch of her skin available for your eyes to admire for the very first time, she leaned in to meet your lips with a kiss that was softer than she had been all day. The single action had eased your anxious thoughts, and you leaned into the embrace just as easily as she had.

When her lips separated from yours, swollen and pink and wet with your saliva, her hand reached up to grab your chin and force your eyes on hers. “I expect you to use your safewords if you need to. This is not about me, this is about you. Do you understand me, milaya?”

“Yes.” You breathed out desperately, your hands settling on her hips, pulling them closer when you felt like she was too far away.

“Good. Get on the bed.” She grinned sadistically down at you, taking full advantage of the few inches she had over you. There was something dark in her eyes, something you had only gotten the shortest glimpse of last night, and you swallowed thickly as the promise of feeling her touch on your body for hours after this moment ended, but you complied with her request just as quickly as it came. There was no way you were going to go against her now, not when she had so carefully unraveled your brain and you were finally on the cusp of getting what you had long since sought after and been promised.

You scrambled onto the center of the bed the Sokovian shared every night with the Russian, laying flush on your back with your elbows propping up your torso. Your eyes trailed Wanda’s every movement as she disappeared into the closet without a single spoken word, but knowing what lies within the four walls of the walk-in, you could only anticipate what she returned with. Desperately you rubbed your thighs together, gathering that she wouldn’t take kindly to your hand relieving the ache she created and single-handedly wanted to soothe. It hadn’t been more than three minutes before she returned, and you noted that between her legs was the presence of something pink. Her hands carried the cooling lotion she’d used last night, and the red strap-on that Natasha had pounded you with weeks ago in her office. A stuttered moan filled the quiet of the master bedroom, and ever so seductively Wanda crawled over your body on the bed, close enough for her nipples to drag against your skin, but far enough away for her lips to ghost over yours.

“Have you decided how you want me to use you, dorogaya?” She laid her accent on thicker than you had ever heard, straddling your hips as her arms sat on either side of your head, trapping you beneath her.

You nodded frantically, forcing your eyes to stay locked on hers, wanting to remember every inch of her face in this moment in case it was the only time you’d see it. “I want– I want your mouth. A-and your fingers.”

“Both?” Wanda teased, her eyes glowing with dominance. “What a greedy girl. I suppose I can give you both, but it won’t come without a price. Are you willing to pay, milaya?”

You nodded your head frantically, desperate to give her whatever she wanted from you. That seemed to please Wanda, who smirked down at you before her lips ghosted over your lips and trailed down your neck that craned instantaneously in response. Her tongue licked a bold stripe over the center of your neck, and just when you’d anticipated her to keep moving lower, she trailed back up again. This was the price, you realized quickly. She was going to tease you until you broke completely, and there was nothing you could do about it, nothing you wanted to do about it.

Her teeth nipped and bit at your skin that had been dampened by her tongue, but she made no efforts to mark you entirely. She wasn’t interested in wasting time on leaving hickeys that would fade in days, much rather devoting her efforts and energy into making you squirm beneath her with sensations that were intense, but not strong enough to cause real pleasure. Your clit throbbed in tune with her ministrations, your entrance pulse at the emptiness. It was only when you’d started to grow accustomed to the feeling of her tongue lapping at your neck did she move lower, plush lips wrapping around your nipple and creating a ruthless seal of suction. Your back arched into her, your fingers that had been fisting the comforter shot toward her back, and blunt nails that had been bitten down to numbs scratched mercilessly at her skin.

Wanda hummed in satisfaction at your reaction, her teeth tugging at your sensitive bud between her lips while her fingers worked on your other. She pulled teasingly, pinched evilly, and twisted when you just didn’t seem to be enjoying it as much as she wanted you to. Her goal was to have you screaming, crying out for a god that she didn’t believe to exist. There was no god in the master bedroom of the Maximoff residence, only a Sokovian lawyer consumed by nearly a year's worth of pent up lust and frustration. When she was satisfied that she had punished your right nipple enough for the time being, not wanting to cause you an exceeding amount of pain though there didn’t even seem to be a glimpse of it on your scrunched up and sweaty face, she moved her mouth to the left, and replaced what was lost by cruel fingers.

“I wonder how long it would take for you to cum from just this.” Wanda released your nipple with a pop, speaking softly into the silence that was only attempted to be filled by the low buzz of the vibrator between her legs and your moans of intense pleasure. “Mommy’ll have to test that one day.”

Unable to handle her teasing for another minute longer, you sobbed out in desperate need for something more, and the fingers that had successfully marked angry red lines into the once untouched skin of her back moved up to grab handfuls of her auburn hair. “Please. P-Please. Please. I need y-your mouth. I need– I need– Mommy, pozhaluysta!”

Wanda froze at the trace of Russian that fell from your lips in a desperate attempt to persuade her into folding before she was willing. She hated to admit that it worked, and that before you could even continue to beg for mercy, her lips were kissing a wet trail down your belly until they fell firmly around your clit. A broad stripe was licked across your core, wetness collected on the tip of her tongue that she swallowed down with a needy moan of her own. A single hand reached between her legs and increased the speed of the vibrator that had been set at a teasing pace since she’d first grabbed it in the closet.

“Okay baby. Okay. Let Mommy take care of you, no more teasing. We're all done with that.” She cooed, not giving you a single second to doubt her promise before her fingers were falling into your glistening folds just as easily as they had in the kitchen. You gasped at the initial stretch of two cold digits working you open, but her mouth distracted you when she took your clit between her teeth and tauntingly bit at your pleading bundle of nerves. The fingers coiled around strands of pin straight dyed hair pulled her closer, and your hips had adopted a mind of their own as you rocked against her face with a feverish need. Curses and moans tumbled past your lips in incoherent bundles, and just as she felt your walls clenching around her curled up fingers with the telltale indication of an approaching orgasm, the vibrator between her legs brought her to the same pace. “Hold it. Hold it for Mommy, baby.”

You shook your head, fingers pulling her head even closer. “I can’t! Can’t, Mommy! C-Can’t.” The movements of your hips had become jerky and unpredictable, but before you could hurt yourself or her, Wanda’s hand that wasn’t buried between your legs forced you still and compliant. “I-I’m gonna– Mommy!”

“Cum for me, malyshka. Make a mess all over Mommy’s face.” Wanda’s words of encouragement thrummed against your clit, and with permission to finally unravel beneath her hands, you let the coil burning in your lower belly snap with a blinding white rush of pleasure. Her fingers didn’t stop until you were trying to push them away, and even once they left her tongue remained. Your exhausted body writhed beneath the too intense to bare pleasure, and your whines of sensitivity mixed with hers. You were actively aware of how she was moaning against your core, her hot breath an additional sensation that was quick to make you overly stimulated despite how long you’d sought for this. Her hips grinded against the blankets between her thighs, but they came to a stuttering stop seconds after your own hips tensed and stilled on their own accord. Despite her own end of pleasure, fingers sticky with your arousal pulling the toy out from her own entrance, her tongue was relentless against yours. “Shhh, let Mommy clean you up.”

“Too much!” You cried out, going limp beneath her wandering hands, but she didn’t let up, and that coil had formed again quickly in combination with her double-downed efforts and your existing sensitivity. Wanda remained dutiful, and her tongue was undoubtedly skilled as she pulled yet another orgasm from you in a matter of minutes. This time, she did pull away, leaving a single soft kiss against your abused clit before the touch was completely gone.

“You did so good for me, moya lyubov’. Mommy’s so proud of you.” Wanda peppered your face with kisses, touching every inch of available skin with her lips drenched in cum. You giggled at the sensation, pushing her away when your cheeks began to ache from smiling so hard. She fell onto her side beside you in the bed, arms looping around your waist and pulling you into her chest firmly. Her fingers dug into your hips, keeping you flush against her front, and the words she let meet your ears had melted your heart in seconds. “My girl.”

“Mmm.” You sighed contently, snuggling into her with no intentions of moving away anytime soon. “Hi.” You looked up into her eyes, a drunken smile pulling the corners of your lips upward.

“Hi, sweetheart.” Wanda giggled, taking your face into her hands and pressing a sweet kiss to the crease between your eyebrows. “What’s that thinking face for?”

You shook your head, humming softly as you further melted into the soft bed beneath you. When her hands trailed away from where they cupped your cheeks, you took one of them between your own hands, spinning the rings adorning her fingers around her knuckles. “Not thinking. Just… happy.”

Wanda smiled, rubbing the pad of her thumb across the only expanse of your palm that she could reach with the way you were grasping her hand so possessively. “Yeah? I’m glad you’re happy, sweetheart. I’m happy too.”

“Your bed is comfy.” You grinned at her, bringing your fingers up to trace across her lips that had kissed every inch of your skin so intimately and passionately. You shrieked in laughter when she snapped her teeth at you, just barely catching the tip of your finger before you pulled it protectively into your chest.

“I never would’ve guessed you find my bed comfy, little one.” Wanda teased, because obviously she knew that you did. You weren’t subtle with the ways you all but threw yourself into it whenever you were given the chance. Her sage eyes trailed behind you when she saw the slightest shift of light beneath the closed door, a shadow unwilling to enter looming behind it. “Stop hovering and just come in, Natalia.” Wanda called out to her wife, though her eyes briefly flickered down to your face when your teeth found a place around her fingers in the handful of seconds that she had been distracted. Wanda only shook her head in amusement, overly fond of your new habit.

“Well if this isn’t my new favorite sight.” Natasha smirked her eyes trailing over both naked bodies in the center of her bed. Setting two bottles of chilled water down on her nightstand before she let her weight shift the bed, there was a silent conversation shared between the two lawyers with nothing more than eye contact and inclines of heads. Natasha’s hand brushed strands of hair away from your face that was practically smothered into Wanda’s naked chest, and she rolled her eyes adoringly when she found that you were chewing on her wife’s fingers like a puppy. “Still feeling kinda floaty, detka?” The Russian hummed, easing her body down against the headboard so that she didn’t have to remain kneeling beside you.

Unwillingly to let Wanda’s fingers fall from your mouth, you mumbled around them carefully, not wanting to accidentally hurt her and lose this new privilege. “No.”

“You wanna let Daddy put some more lotion on you then? It’s looking kinda red, moya lyubov’.” Natasha’s fingers tangled into the baby hairs at the nape of your neck, and she pulled at them tenderly the way she knows you like when you need a minute to decompress but don’t want to be alone. A quiet sigh slips past your lips, but it’s muffled by Wanda’s fingers before either one of them have the chance to hear it fully, though they’ve grown quite used to your muffled words and sounds seeing as half the strings on their hoodie are marked with indents of your teeth. The Sokovian teasingly wiggles the digits against your tongue, only to be met with you biting down on them in an attempt to get her to stop teasing you.

“No biting.” She reprimands, though the sharp sensation hadn’t hurt her. You amend the mistake with a well intended suckle, shuffling even closer to her chest until the swell of her breasts blocked out the impeding sunlight. “Come here, baby.” Wanda gently coaxed you fully on top of her body, your sensitive chests pressing together in a way that makes you whine. “You’re sensitive, I know. But, Daddy’s going to put some more lotion on your ass. We don’t want it to really start hurting.”

When Natasha first laid her hands on your ass, the cooling lotion significantly colder than you had been expecting had caused your entire body to stiffen. Your teeth nervously gnawed at Wanda’s fingers, your tongue flicking across the band of her engagement ring. Her soft assurances calmed you effectively, and with reassurances of it being just Natty that touched and her hands would warm up soon, you began to relax into the sensation.

When the Russian was done, she left a lingering kiss to the end of your spine, her lips trailing up the dip in your back until she pressed them against your shoulder blades. “Good girl.” Natasha praised you promisingly before she fell flush against the mattress and let herself sink in beside you and Wanda, her files forgotten about for the foreseeable future.

Ona vse yeshche daleko vnizu, da? — she's still pretty far down, huh?

Da, ty poydesh' za odnoy iz svoikh tolstovok? V obozrimom budushchem ya budu zapert zdes'. — yeah, will you go get one of your hoodies? i'll be trapped here for the foreseeable future.

pozhaluysta — please

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

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prettyprettypaci2 · 3 months

Text

Drool - Part 1

"Can you open your mouth for me? Give me your best alligator smile!"

Your eyes fixate on the device in Nurse Molly's extending hand. It has a pink plastic guard with a long, rounded, silicone shaft. If it weren't so large, you'd almost think it was a...

Pacifier.

"Wh-wh-what is this for?" You ask nervously, failing to suppress your stammer. It's particularly difficult given how cold this examination room is. Air from a nearby vent runs up the open back of your pale pink hospital gown, and you're forced to clutch the thin paper against your bare hips to prevent your naked bottom from getting exposed. Without thinking, you begin to chew anxiously on your lower lip.

"It's for that," Nurse Molly replies, the prologue of a smile drafting itself across her pretty face. "You bit your lip again. That's what this program is all about! These nervous tics you told us about on your application: stuttering, lip biting, scratching, shaking, and all the others...they may be psychological, but your body and mind work as a team. This equipment will help prevent damage to your lips while laying the foundations for correcting the behavior."

You don't take your eyes off the silicone nipple. You fight your body's nervous impulse to start rubbing your arms, instead crinkling the paper of your pink hospital gown.

"B-b-but I thought I w-w-would be doing sp-speech therapy. How can I t-t-talk with that in my mouth?"

Nurse Molly places a hand on your wrist in an effort to comfort you. "All in good time. Right now, it's important that we work on strengthening your jaw muscles and put a stop to the biting. Pretty please, open your mouth for me?"

As much as you've started to question this inpatient treatment program, there's something in Nurse Molly's gentle voice and soft grip that calms you down. What are you so nervous about, anyway? The reason you're here is because every other program has been unable to help you. Maybe this one will finally work...

Slowly, you let your mouth fall open.

"A little wider, honey," Nurse Molly whispers, tightening her grip on your wrist almost imperceptibly. "It's going to feel like a lot to take in at first."

You can't help but nibble your lip -- just a little -- before gaping your mouth as widely as you can. Nurse Molly wastes no time before sliding the firm, pliable silicone nipple deep into your mouth. Your gag reflex is tickled, but you manage to stop yourself from sputtering by holding your tongue wide and flat against the shaft. Immediately, you feel saliva pooling in the few remaining recesses of your mouth, and the device emits a loud, slurping sound as you swallow awkwardly around it. Nevertheless, a small bubble of drool forms at the corner of your lips.

"Mmmmnmmhhhhhh," you moan, reaching up reflexively to take out the device with your free hand.

"Ah ah! No touching!" Nurse Molly scolds, grasping your other wrist and pulling your palms together in front of you. You shift your feet, desperate to spend the nervous energy which has started to build. The hem of your paper hospital gown flutters dangerously high from the blowing vent.

"The device is designed for long-term use, so I want you to get into the habit of keeping it in unless a doctor or nurse removes it. Try to form an 'O' with your lips and suckle naturally."

You grimace as you turn to look into the full-length mirror on the door of the examination room. There you are, shivering in your pale pink hospital gown, your eyes arched in a forced look of surprise, your cheeks bulging like a chipmunk's. The pink guard of the device bobs ridiculously and makes a suction-cup squelch as you swallow again. A line of thick drool escapes your mouth and begins draining from behind the plastic guard. You have no doubt now: this is effectively a giant pacifier.

"It looks like you're quite the little spit factory!" Nurse Molly teases, grabbing a paper towel and wiping around the shield of the pacifier as you blush hotly. "You'll get into the rhythm of sucking and swallowing soon enough, but it may be a good idea to start wearing a bib for a while. You certainly don't want to be walking around the clinic covered in drool stains!"

A bib?! You reach up again to remove the pacifier in protest. Nurse Molly is quicker, interrupting your impulse and pulling your hand away from your mouth.

"Don't fuss," she says. Her tone is not unkind, but it is forceful. "The doctor won't agree to start your speech therapy until you demonstrate you've been using the device as prescribed."

You stare at Nurse Molly in exasperation, shuddering as more drool forms around your mouth. Surely you can't be expected to suck on a giant squishy pacifier with no way to ask questions about your treatment! Desperate to tic, you begin scratching your forearm, which causes Nurse Molly's eyebrows to shoot up.

"I have an idea."

Nurse Molly reaches to pull out a large drawer under a nearby table. After a few moments of searching, she extracts what appear to be two cloth pads in the same pale pink color as your hospital gown.

"Make a fist for me, honey."

You hesitate, cottoning on to what Nurse Molly intends to do. If you weren't dressed in the embarrassing hospital gown, there's a chance you would spit out your pacifier, turn on your heel, and march out the door right now.

"Make a fist. You have to make a fist." Nurse Molly makes it clear this isn't a request.

You swear you begin salivating more as you slowly lift your shaking hand. Frothy drool spills out from behind your pacifier as you curl your fingers and thumb together. You realize through your heavy breathing that you're actually suckling rhythmically on the rubbery shaft, filling the air with a soft squish, squish, squish, squish, squish.

Once your hand forms the desired fist, Nurse Molly wastes no time in smothering it with one of the pink cloth pads. The inside of the cloth is soft and pillowy, but very constricting; you couldn't uncurl your fingers if you tried. A tied ribbon strap is tightened around your wrist, and you raise your hand to gawk at the ridiculous balled mitten that now encases it.

"This should put an end to that scratching, and help remind you to keep that oral device exactly where it needs to be!" Nurse Molly smiles triumphantly, raising the second cloth pad.

Something clicks in your brain as your other hand is quickly mittened and secured snugly in place: you're completely helpless now. Not only can you no longer scratch, but you won't be able to get your clothes back on or open a door without help. What happens if you need to use the toilet?

"Mmmmhhhmmmn?" You gesture frantically at your pacifier as thick gobs of drool begin to collapse like icicles on the front of your paper gown. You feel the need to communicate; to take back some control. You crane your neck forward to spit the silicone shaft out, but think better of it when you see Nurse Molly's severe look.

"Ohhh, I see, honey," Nurse Molly coos with concern as you continue to point stupidly at your suckling mouth with the fat, balled mitten. "But don't worry. It's just a little drool. Let's get a bib on you. Then, I'll walk you to the bedroom where you'll be staying with us these next few weeks. How exciting! Soon, you'll feel like a whole new person."

You moan and shake your head, suckling furiously as more nervous energy builds. You want to scratch, to bite your lip, to stutter, to do something that gives you a feeling of control.

But as Nurse Molly holds up a large cloth bib -- white with a pink trim -- you realize fully that you're not in control. You're pathetic, muted, and covered in drool. The only thing you can do is fill the air with slurping and sucking as Nurse Molly tightens the bib around your neck. Robbed of your ability to tic, you try to focus all your nervous energy on your mouth. You're already painting the white cloth of the bib with thick streams of spit as you concentrate hard on suckling.

Squish, squish, squish, squish, squish, squish, squish, squish, squish...

💊 Part 2 💊

#diaper pee #diaper training #ab dl lifestyle #diaper sissy #ab dl diaper #diaper gal #diapered247 #ab dl mommy #diaper dependent

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