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jamminvroomvroom · 12 days

Note

congrats on 5k queen! you’re writing is so brilliant beyond belief and you deserve all the love and support this site has to offer. can i request lando+angsty smut (the best combo)…prompts along the lines of “i don’t think im ever going to love anyone the way i love you”//“i don’t think i want to love anyone else”

how did it end?

ln x famous fem!reader

in which it ends, until…

i love this fic with my whole heart. thank u sm for this request, anon, and for being so absolutely for gorgeous and kind <3 kicking off the 5k celebration with a big, sad, sexy bang! lemme know what you think, hugs n kisses

songs to set the mood: how did it end? by taylor swift

warnings: 18+!! minors dni!! smut, angst angst angst, fluff, happy ending! exes to lovers, just. a lot going on. sad!lando, sad!everyone, so many feels, r is a big deal model, alcohol consumption, mentions of smoking

4.1k words

one gasp, and then…

“how did it end?” the woman strokes your arm, soothing, tentative.

you don’t know her all that well, she’s signed to the same agency as you, you see her in the halls sometimes and sit next to her in makeup chairs.

you stare blankly at her, registering. news travels fast apparently.

you smile, small, fake, tilting your head to the side. you mumble something about different schedules, timezones, right person, wrong time. she watches your face intently, with sympathy. you want to throttle her. she’s being kind and you despise her for it right now.

“i won’t tell anyone.” she affirms, her fingers still smoothing over the skin of your arm.

yes you will, you think. all of her friends, the rest of the building will know exactly what you’ve told her by the time you get to your meeting. you don’t begrudge her, though, that’s the nature of the industry.

“well, it was good to see you.” you nod, even go in for a quick hug, and then you speed away, beelining for the elevator. the ride is short, your managers office somewhere on the third floor and you shuffle down the corridor, ready to be informed of what your life will look like for the next three months.

fittings, shoots, paris trip.

mhm.

swimwear season, charlotte tilbury, meeting with the vogue journalist.

cool.

week off, few days in london, monaco grand prix.

no.

“what? no.” you splutter. out of habit, you reach for a necklace, frown when you realise it’s no longer there.

“what do you mean, no?” she narrows her eyes at you.

“i can’t go to the race. no.”

“girl, i love you, but did i ask?”

“you know i can’t-“

“you won’t have to see him.” she reasons.

“but what if i do? he’s obviously gonna be there, and the events before and after- no. no.”

“lando norris is not gonna be the end of you.”

you stifle a laugh, one that sounds more like a strangled cry.

what if he already was?

look who we ran into at the shops,

walking in circles like he was lost

lando stares at the shampoo.

specifically, the one you use. used. he can’t be too sure anymore, he supposes.

he’d popped out for a loaf of bread, about an hour ago. he didn’t want to acknowledge how long he’d been staring at the women’s toiletries section.

you seemed to live on, everywhere. lando could see you in his apartment, the passenger seat of his car, the back of the garage. even the fucking supermarket wasn’t safe. you were very much alive, moving on with life, and yet you haunted him like he’d killed you himself.

perhaps he had, in a way.

the basket grazes the outside of his leg.

that’s the shower gel he’d buy for you, the one you only used when you stayed with him in monaco.

there’s the tampons you asked him to buy, crying back at home on your- his bed.

oh, and there’s the shampoo that you made him buy, the one that you told him made his curls feel extra fluffy when he was between your legs-

“lando?” a voice calls, drawing lando out of the mist.

“oh, alex. hey.” lando croaks. he hasn’t noticed the lump in his throat until now. he clears his throat, running a hand through his hair.

“what you doing, mate?” alex asks, eyebrows furrowed. he scans lando’s face, puffy eyes, watery.

“shopping.”

“for women’s shampoo?”

“no, no, just… looking.” lando stutters.

“when was the last time you slept?” alex’s voice is laced with concern, apprehensive. he doesn’t know what to say to his heartbroken friend.

lando smiles weakly.

“i’ve been sleeping.”

alex sighs.

“okay, when was the last time you slept properly, then?”

lando’s shoulders visibly sag.

“about a month ago.”

we hereby conduct this post-mortem

“we can’t do this anymore.”

the words fall from your lips in a whisper, but they reach him like you’ve screamed them at him. he sits opposite you, in the arm chair, so far away, only a metre or so.

“i know.” lando breathes shakily.

“i don’t want this but…”

“yeah.”

it’s been such a good year. you’re in love. it’s not enough. there’s too much distance, too many outsider opinions, too much longing for someone who’s on the other side of the world.

he’ll be in london. you’ll be in brazil.

he’ll be in australia. you’ll be in amsterdam.

it’s too much.

“i love you, though.” you remind him meekly.

“don’t know how to not love you.” he sniffles.

your heart shatters, the pieces flying over the room, spilling across the floor. they mix with the splinters of his, painting the room red. all you feel is blue.

you cry in his arms when he takes you to bed, his own tears spilling over your collar bone when he buries his head in your neck, licks over the marks he’s left there. to remember me by, he’d muttered dryly.

when you’re both finished, he lays there for a moment, still on top of you. damp with sweat and tears, the taste of one another still lingering on your tongues.

“how is it possible that i miss you already?” he pants, lips grazing just below your ear.

“i get it, lan. i’ve been missing you for a while.”

you’re gone when he wakes up.

and so, a touch that was my birthright became foreign

come one, come all

it’s happening again

the empathetic hunger descends

there are about six cameras pointed at you when he asks the dreaded question.

you’re in new york, sat on a talk show hosts sofa, lit by stage lights and his inquisitive eyes. two hundred people sit in the audience, on the edge of their seats waiting for you to spill your secrets.

“so, what happened there, with lando?”

you plaster on the fakest smile to date, crossing your legs anxiously.

“we’re both just so busy, you know? he’s doing amazing things in f1 and i’m all over the place with work.”

“we love both of you over here, it was sad to hear.” he sympathises, adjusting his tie and leaning back in his chair. his fingers drum over the wood of his desk, waiting for more.

vultures. everyone is a vulture.

“and we still have a lot of love for each other. he’s a wonderful person.”

there are tears in your eyes and bile rising rapidly in your throat when you shake hands with the crew, the host, and retreat to your dressing room. you stumble into the en-suite and throw up. then, you fall onto the sofa and cry. you fix your makeup at godspeed and reply to the text from your team, inviting you to drinks at some rooftop bar, promising to meet them there. you punctuate the text with one too many exclamation marks, feigning excitement.

“we still have a lot of love for each other.”

translation: i can’t understand: how did it end?

lando watches your interview. of course he does. he watches everything that you do, watches the way you set the world on fire.

he can’t help himself where you’re concerned, like an addict craving the next hit. you look so pretty on tv, glowing. you look fine.

god, why do you look fine?

he hates himself for hating just how fine you look. he is not fine.

“he’s a wonderful person.”

your words ring in his ears. they anger him, because if he’s oh-so-wonderful, why aren’t you here? why isn’t he there with you, waiting backstage? why can’t you just hate him? why can’t he just hate you? maybe you will, if he shows you just how not wonderful he can be.

he gets drunk that night. forces max to hit the clubs with him. sticks his tongue down a pliant woman’s throat. doesn’t ask her name. let’s her invite him back to her place. it has to be her place, he can’t fuck someone else in your bed, the one you used to share. he leaves minutes after he’s pulled out. he’s sure she’s lovely, too good for him and his bitter fucking heart. he feels utterly disgusting.

lando goes home, scrubs his skin red, and then does it again. he doesn’t go to sleep, watches from his balcony as the sun begins to rise over the sea. he hikes to the highest point he can reach in monaco, where it’s quiet and there’s no one to judge him, or worse, sympathise with him.

he stands at the edge of the cliff. screams once, twice. he sits on a rock, and lets himself cry.

the deflation of our dreaming

leaving me bereft and reeling

my beloved ghost and me

sitting in a tree

d-y-i-n-g

your stylist is plying you with options.

you can wear the denim with the cream OR you could do the red and white? or we can go full glam! or! or! or! we could-

you drown her out. you don’t give a fuck. not a single one.

what you wear to the monaco grand prix is quite literally the least of the your problems. your biggest problem, of course, is that you have to go to the fucking thing.

visibility is important, get people talking! the words of your manager ring in your ears until you have a dull migraine brewing behind your ears.

you leave the fitting not entirely sure what you’re wearing, but your stylist will be sending the clothes over so you can pack.

when you land in all too familiar nice, there are cameras. when you get to the hotel in monaco, you and lando are already trending on twitter. well, at least he knows you’re coming. when you’re getting your makeup done before your first event, you get a text.

i’ll try and keep my distance.

try.

try is such an interesting word. the fact that he has to try to stay away makes your belly flutter with embarrassing, self loathing butterflies. don’t try too hard, you want to respond. you don’t.

should’ve told you i’d be here you shoot back.

you think i didn’t already know?

of course he knew. he’d probably asked god knows how many brands to invite you. you try and feign an illness but your team drag you kicking and screaming to the event.

there are no two ways about it: you’re drunk, on a tuesday night, somewhere in the principality. a few cocktails with a jewellery brand turned into a night on the town, bar hopping with people you hardly knew and barely recognised.

you’re shaking your ass in jimmy’z, pretending to have fun when you see him.

lando stands at the bar, watching you, jaw tensed, eyes solemn. you exit the club faster that his car down a back straight, stumbling into the smoking area. you bum a cigarette from a guy who tries really hard to convince you that he’s the son of a british lord, and sink into the corner, ignoring the people recording you.

depressed model shame smokes outside monaco club because she is fucking pathetic, the headlines will read.

“thought you quit that shit.” his voice washes over your body like you’ve been set on fire, smooth tone, ambiguous accent making you ache.

“i did but then i got forced to come to monaco, so.” you shrug.

“forced?”

“‘m here for work.” you sigh.

“i guess i am too.” he mumbles. you raise an eyebrow.

“you live here, lan.” you tease. lan rolls off of your tongue too sweetly.

“doesn’t feel like it anymore.”

how can it, without you? he wants to scream at you. he can’t, you don’t deserve it.

“how are you?”

you want to touch him.

“shit.”

he needs a taste.

“yeah.”

you put your cigarette out. it tastes like shit, half smoked.

you stand there, stare at each other.

take me home, you want to beg.

come home, he clenches his fists, trying not to grab you and remind you how you’ll always be his, right here, up against the side of the club.

“good luck, if i don’t see you.” you whisper. you linger, praying that he’ll beg you to stay so that you can crumble into his arms, without having to make the first move.

lando ponders his options. his head and his heart wage a war.

logic wins, unfortunately.

“thank you.”

you take that as your queue to get the fuck out of there, and disappear into the night.

it’s raining on sunday. the dreary weather seems to perfectly sum up what has been the worst week of your life.

you’ve seen your ex boyfriend more times than you can count, ended up with about four hangovers as a result, and with a pounding head, you have to sit in the paddock club and wait for the sound of engines to split your head in half. it was your own doing, so you’d suck it up, recognising that you were a disgustingly privileged bitch, and there are people who would sell their kidneys to do what you’re complaining about.

you never complain, not usually. but your heart hurts and your body hearts and your mind hurts and it’s just not fair. lando is gorgeous, and you miss him so badly, and your shoes are digging in. who the fuck thinks it’s a good idea to wear heels to an f1 race?

you see him before the race, mouth good luck from afar. he winks. it’s something you used to do before every race. old habits die screaming.

the rain falls harder, the track slick. you say a prayer and take your seat.

“norris has this in the bag, he’s bloody good in the wet.” you hear some old guy say behind you. you are cursed with the knowledge of just how good in the wet he is, and you end up flushed.

he wins. his second one in three races. you pray that no one notices the way you weep. everyone notices.

you make a mistake and rush for the podium, your pass giving you access. he graces the top step and you sob, grinning like a fool, soaked through with rain. the anthem plays, the champagne pops. he finds your eyes in the crowd. your hair falls, stringy and curled, mascara smudged. you are the most breathtaking sight. he stands still, washed with an onslaught of champagne, watching you like he’s scared to take his eyes off of you. his boyish grin and hopeful eyes render you weak - you’re there for him, after all - and he can’t help but bask in that little fact.

dangerous territory. you break, and disappear.

say it once again with feeling…

the photographers barely get a second to snap a picture of the top three, because lando is gone. he takes the stairs two at a time, descending from the podium and throwing his pirelli cap and a shaky apology at his pr rep. the adrenaline spike makes his blood rush; he needs to find you and stop you and tell you that he will never be able to stop loving you.

the exit is the natural assumption, and he nearly slips a thousand times as he sprints through the paddock. the ground is wet, but he figures that if his car made it, so can he. the gates are in sight, and so are you, your clothes sticking to your shivering frame.

he calls your name, thunderously travelling towards you, his voice hitting your ears like a sonic boom. you freeze, turn slowly until your facing him. the rain splashes around you, not letting up.

you’re within his reach, and he pulls you in, hugging you tight. you melt into him, clinging like he’s a life force. he inhales you, your scent that he’s missed so horrifically. you crumble, and so does he, pieced back together as one.

“i can’t do this, i can’t.” he kisses the words into the cold skin of your neck.

“no, neither can i.” you choke wetly with emotion.

“miss you too much. it’s too hard, it’s stupid, it’s-“

“wrong. it’s wrong. ‘m sorry.” your breath fans his face, breathing life into him, life that he’d lost four months ago.

he grabs your shoulders, lowering so that his eyes are level with yours. his curls fall over his eyes, sodden from the rain.

“i don’t think, no, i know: i’m never gonna love anyone the way i love you.” lando speaks slow, convincing. your chest is tight.

“i don’t want to love anyone else.” you croak, the lump in your throat making it hard to breathe.

“come back to me.” he mutters, pleading.

“don’t think i ever left.” you breathe, hushed.

your lips slot over his easily, it’s like breathing. the kiss is messy, helpless, and he engulfs you whole, his body wrapping around yours like a blanket. you latch onto his race-suit, drawing him in, and then you both seem to remember where you are.

lando norris caught kissing ex like horny teenager in monaco paddock!

you pull away with breathless chuckle. the air is fresh, and you feel alive. he steals another peck.

“wait for me at home. i’ll be quick.” his hand finds you ass, just for a second and you scold him playfully.

home.

yeah, home.

“don’t make me wait.” you grin.

his brain short circuits.

“do you still have your key?” he splutters, refocusing.

you scoff. “never took it off the chain.”

you pace the apartment, taking in the space. it hasn’t changed, but it’s messier, a visual representation of lando since you left. the pit of your belly swirls with anxiety, anticipation. he’ll be back soon, and he’ll kiss you, make love to you, remind you that you’re home and that it’d be stupid to leave again.

you’re still damp from the rain, shedding layers until you’re left in your vest and jeans, ridiculous heels kicked off by the door, your jacket airing over the back of a chair.

he hasn’t taken down the pictures of you together. he hasn’t moved your ugly collection of magnets from the fridge. he hasn’t changed the blinds that you chose, but he didn’t really like. your candles sit on the bookshelf half burned, the teddy he’d won you at a fair sits neatly on the sofa. the L pendant and it’s chain is strewn over the coffee table, right where you left it the morning after it ended. your breathing is heavy.

the front door opens behind you.

you don’t move, your eyes still fixed on the silver chain, overwhelmed by how empty your neck feels all of the sudden. he comes up behind you, his head resting on your shoulder, arms finding home around your waist. you often used to find yourselves in this exact position; while you brushed your teeth, made coffee. the room is deathly silent, breathing and the distant buzz of post race festivities the only thing you can hear. lando follows your gaze.

“kept it. knew that one day, you’d come back for it.”

“i came back for you.”

“and that necklace will stay with you when i can’t be there.”

you nod. he kisses your neck.

“missed you so bad.” you gasp. he licks your skin, bites down softly.

you spin in his arms, his hands pawing at your hips and everything blurs when he kisses you.

shaky fingers work over zippers, buttons, clasps, and then you’re both bare. you sink into the mattress that you missed so much, his body moulded with yours when you both tumble into the sheets. this is messy and frantic, utterly lovestruck. the lightning strike of his touch has you keening, sweating beneath him already.

“missed you. missed this.”

“do something, lan.” you cry, quiet against his shoulder.

“missed my perfect girl.” he grunts, lips working your chest while his fingers leave a trail of goosebumps over your inner thigh.

“please.” you sigh when his fingers dip between your folds, sliding over your wet flesh. his lip catches between his teeth, eyes fluttering shut at the feeling of you.

he thumbs at your clit, stroking over you in slow, firm swipes, and then he’s sinking a digit into you, slow and steady. your toes curl, tears pricking your eyes at the intrusion, but you don’t have much of a chance to adjust, a second finger joining the first. he fucks you full, the stretch of just two fingers making you whine, one hand threading into the sheets while the other slams over your mouth. you want to hide, the pleasure rendering you a mess across the pale grey linen.

“no, let me look at you.” lando rasps, spare hand tugging at your wrist. you whine, writhing when he curls his fingers. “why are you hiding?”

you can’t hold back the choked cry that sounds from the back of your throat, his palm bumping your clit as he grinds his fingers deep.

“gone shy on me, baby? where’s my good girl gone?” lando coos, moving so that he’s leaning over you. the angle change sends your legs flying, kicking out at the sweet torture. “‘s because you haven’t been fucked right in so long, hm? can’t remember how to behave?” he’s smirking down at you, scanning the changing lines of your face.

“need it, need-“ you stutter, the words dying on your tongue.

“words, pretty girl, words.” lando encourages, false sympathy dripping from his tongue.

“need to cum, want you to make me…” you trail off.

“was that so hard?” he tuts, and everything speeds up.

the sound of him working you so sweetly makes you shake, your thighs clenching tight around his hand. the wet squelch hits your ears and you blush, cheeks coloured deep with embarrassment, awe, desperation.

your mouth drops open, screaming silently when it hits, your thighs slick. you drip down his wrist, his hand covered in your release.

“there’s my girl.” lando sighs, diving down to kiss you hard.

you can feel the damp press of his fingers as they dig into your thighs and you squirm beneath him, finding your way into his mouth.

“fuck me.” you slur, teeth knocking with his. he swallows you whole, groaning into your mouth.

“not so shy now, hm? been dreaming of hearing you beg for it.” lando shudders, shifting between your legs.

you can feel the press of him, thick against your cunt and you wiggle your hips, pushing to meet him halfway. the stretch burns deliciously, and you grab at his shoulders, dragging him in.

“fuck, baby.” he breathes, sinking into you slowly. “feel like heaven.” disbelief coats his voice, like he can’t reconcile that this is real; you’re back here, his, in the bed you were always supposed to share.

“it’s so good. feel so good for me, lan.” you whisper, lacing your fingers through his hair.

“love you so much.” he kisses you like he means it, rocking into you with purpose.

“can’t believe i lived without this.”

“can’t believe you’re all mine.”

the release builds, every thrust reminding you of what you could have lost for good. there was no lack of love, in fact you were starting to wonder if you had loved each other too much before.

“never losing you again. can’t live without you. my beautiful girl.”

your tummy grows tight, and he finds your clit when he feels you clamp down on him. he pulls you through the pleasure, guides you to your orgasm and you blindly follow him. you’d follow him anywhere, you decide.

you tell him you love him when you let go, spilling all around him, warm. he’s panting, kisses your forehead gently. he rolls off of you, and you feel the slow drip instantly, but you curl into his side and he wraps around you.

home.

“promise me something.” he whispers. you feel the way he shakily inhales.

“hm?”

“don’t leave again. you belong here, too. with me.”

your eyes are watery.

“i’m staying. ‘m yours.”

“about that…”

lando springs from the bed, naked, disappearing from the room. you watch, confused, cold all of the sudden.

you can hear his footsteps padding through the hallway, and then he’s back, his figure in the hallway. he runs, jumps, lands gracelessly next to you. endeared, you laugh softly.

“sit up.”

you do, leaning up to sit next to him. his fingers skim your shoulder, pushing your hair out of the way. cool metal dances over your skin.

“back where it belongs.” lando smiles at you, eyes wide and stunning.

you toy with the L. something heals in your chest, right around where your heart is.

“the sweetest boy.” you shake your head in disbelief, grin up at him like a fool.

“bath?”

“you know me so well, noz.”

come one, come all

it’s happening again

oh, my heart. there is something deeply wrong with me

taglist

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evielmostdefinitely · 6 months

Text

scorned earth |young!coriolanus snow x capitol!reader|

prompt: the last stop on your honeymoon tour of the districts, leaves coriolanus to show you parts of his past, making new memories with you. based off this ask from the other day :)

contains: smut 18+. dark!possessive!coriolanus. mentions of corio's past. dom/sub dynamics. skinny dipping, semi-public sex. pinvsex. mean-ish!coriolanus.

“Where are you taking me?” You looked around at the tall trees, the sun peaking through the branches onto the moss covered ground. Your hand in Coriolanus’, fingers intertwined, letting him lead you through the thicket of trees.

“It’s a surprise, my love. I told you.” Coryo’s eyes were bright, daring with excitement. Turning back to look at you over his shoulder, the sun caught in his baby blues, making your heart skip. “You trust me, don’t you?”

You melted at his words, smiling softly. “Of course, I do.” You whispered, letting him tug you through the forest. “I-I’m just worried about snakes, or bears, or-”

“-I won’t let them hurt you.” Coryo smiled, squeezing your hand. The pistol resting on his hip offered some comfort to you. “That’s why I’m going first.”

You’d blame it on the warmth of the day, hot but breezy, as the reason you were so flustered at his words. The heat in your cheeks, tingling up your spine. District Twelve was the last stop on your tour, the last stop on your honeymoon. Coriolanus insisted on showing you around, to some of his favorite spots from his Peacekeeper days. After putting the town on a strict lockdown- you weren’t sure why he did it, but you didn't dare question it- he dragged you out here.

“This is…” You looked at the water, sparkling from sunlight, and the greenery all around it.

“Breathtaking isn’t it?” Coriolanus’ arms found your waist, chin tucking over your shoulder. The breeze fell between the two of you, fresh air, not smoggy or stuffy like the polluted city air of the Capitol.

“It is.” You nodded, hand sliding over his biceps, leaning back into his touch. “How’d you ever find this?”

Coriolanus paused for a moment, heart skipping a beat at the thought of her. He wouldn’t tell you about her, not now, at least, it was your honeymoon. “We used to come out here on our days off.” He said instead. It wasn’t a complete lie, he supposed.

“Stay in that cabin, sometimes, when it would rain.” Coriolanus pointed to the cabin, a little more worn than he remembered, a lot colder looking too.

You turned, smiling at the sight. “That’s… This is very nice.” You grinned, head tilting back to meet his gaze. You looked pretty like this, Coryo decided, under the bright District Twelve summer sun.

“Would you like to go swimming?” Coryo smiled, hand brushing over your hip, squeezing it gently.

“Swimming?” You giggled. “In what, Coryo? I didn’t pack any swimwear.”

“Do you think they have swimwear here?” Coriolanus scoffed lightly, shaking his head at you. “Just go in your undergarments.”

“Coryo.” You blushed, looking around like there might be others to overhear. It was so improper, you were surprised he even suggested it.

“Or just go without anything on.” Coryo rasped, his crotch grinding lightly into the fat of your ass. Your body jolted with electric heat, grabbing at his arms. “No one’s out here, darling. I won’t mind.” His breath was hot on the shell of your ear, leaving you shivering at the thought.

Your hands trembled lightly with excitement, pushing down the straps of your dress, gaze on Coriolanus. He grinned proudly as you stripped, your eyes on him so obediently- just as he trained you to be. You were bare, arms covering your most private parts, standing in front of him on the small dock.

Coriolanus followed, slinging off his slacks, his shirt, grinning at you with that familiar, wild look in his eyes. It made your heart flutter, his gaze animalistic, roaming all over your body.

“I’m going to throw you in.” Coriolanus growled playfully, though his eyes were primal.

“Don’t you dare, Coryo.” You pointed at him, walking back on the creaking dock. “Coriolanus Snow, I swear-”

Coryo lunged at you, laughing at how you shrilled, your scream bouncing off the trees, the mockingjays echoing it through the breeze. Your bare feet padding against the wood, ass jiggling with your run, taunting him. You skidded to a stop at the edge, whipping around to look over your shoulder. Coriolanus pacing towards you, arms reaching out for you, eyes narrowed with a primal sense that had you reaching your arms out in instinct.

“Coryo, no!” Your squealing pleas were cut short, his hands on your waist, slinging both your naked bodies into the lake water.

Cool water plunged around you, hands clawing at Coriolanus even under the murky water. You surfaced, a large gasp of a breath, hands hitting the rippling waters with a panicked fury. You could swim, sure, but not very well, especially not when you were thrown in unexpectedly.

“I’ve got you, I’ve got you.” Coriolanus hummed, hands pulling you into his wet chest, bobbling with you through the water. You crawled up his back, legs wrapping around his waist, hugging him tightly to you.

He could feel your heart beating on the back of his chest, your pebbled nipples from the cold water pressing to his back, making his cock lurch with lust.

“Don’t you dare let go of me.” You hissed, nails digging into his shoulder. “There’s no telling what’s in this water. I can’t even see the bottom.”

“Oh,” Coryo taunted, chin hooking over his shoulder to grin at you. “Might be a monster, hm? Might come up and bite you.” His fingers pinched the fat of your ass, you squealed in his ear, feet pushing up on his hips, dunking him slightly.

He sputtered, water, feet kicking steadily under the water to keep you both afloat, wiping the droplets out of his eyes. Your pouting face greeted him once his vision cleared, brows creased in a deep furrow. “That wasn’t funny.” You grumbled.

“Oh, don’t be pouty with me, darling. I was only teasing.” Coriolanus’ hands found your waist, pulling you around his body so you rested on his hips, legs still tight around him in a vice. “You know I wouldn’t let anything hurt you, petal.” He muttered, cupping your jaw gently.

It was a rare pet name, but by far your most beloved, which is why Coriolanus used it so sparingly. Only when he was especially in love, when he wanted you to know.

You ducked into his kiss, your own hands on the back of his head, pulling you closer and closer to him. His lips moving on yours, noses brushing, teeth gnashing in a positively sloppy makeout. It felt exhilarating to be doing this in public, showing such crude affection outdoors, even if no one else was around.

Coriolanus’ hand on your hip, squeezing gently, sliding under the water up your back to cup your breasts under the water. You giggled breathy into his kiss, legs tightening under the water. Coriolanus tipped you into the kiss, dunking you under the water accidentally.

You sputtered, coughed at the water invading your nose, glaring back at him. He grinned cheekily, squeezing the fat of your left ass cheek firmly under the water. “Maybe this isn’t the best idea.” He hummed. “Far easier in the bathtub, I’m finding out.”

You blushed, shoving his shoulder playfully. “So what then? On the banks? Like animals?”

Coriolanus’ eyes left your gaze, darkening at what he saw past you. You could see the change in them, that crossed over to something sinister and dark, it made your stomach flip with thrill, anticipation.

“No,” Coryo’s eyes met yours, lips curling in a sinister smile. “I have a better idea.”

“That’s it, that’s perfect, my love.” Coriolanus grunted, head tipping back into the hardwood of the floors.

The floorboards squeaked beneath you, with every rise and fall of your hips. Your hair was still damp, as was his, bodies still soft from the water that hadn’t been wiped away. His hands pawed at your breasts, squeezing them with every roll and rise, riding him in the small cabin.

His mind flooded with memories, memories of before, everytime he looked around. The dark day he didn’t want to remember, a dark time before you. Coriolanus felt guilty, thinking of her while you were on top of him- his wife. So he did what he could to keep his mind from wandering, pawing at your breasts, grabbing at the fat of your ass, but he swore- swore he could hear the mockingjays singing that same song over and over.

“Wait, just a- hold on, darling girl.” Coriolanus grunted, pressing on your hip to stop you.

“What?” You panted, chest rising and falling sharply. “What’s wrong?” You muttered, purely lust drunk, your eyes told him so.

Coryo smiled, cradling your jaw gently, pulling you to him. Your body folded over his, lips on his, kissing him passionately. Coriolanus flipped the two of you, rolling you lightly onto the wooden floor, the floorboards groaning at the shift. His hands cupped under your knees, pressing your thighs forward, letting you hook them over his shoulders while he bottomed out in you, smug at how your eyes rolled back.

“C-Coryo,” You whimpered at the sudden change of pace, his hips snapping and rolling into you sharply, cock spearing that spongy spot that had your eyes rolling back, mouth falling open dumbly.

Coriolanus’ pace didn’t stop, fucking you nearly barbarically, at a punishing pace. You hadn’t expected it, truthfully, he normally saved this type of sex for when you’d been bad, when you needed to get fucked like this. Maybe he needed it. Something about District Twelve had him off, but you didn’t pry.

“Look at me.” Coriolanus growled, hands pushing into your hips, fingertips curling so sharply you knew there would be bruises.

Your eyes fluttered open, glazed with ecstasy from every punctuating jab of his cock into you. “Who do you belong to?”

You were confused, mind dwindling away, thoughts following them. Coriolanus tapped your cheek lightly, hard enough to get your attention, eyes snapping obediently back to him. “Answer me.” Coryo repeated through gritted teeth, his pace not letting up, not once. “Who do you belong to?”

“Y-You.” You shuddered, body rolling with another wave of pleasure, thighs trembling around him.

“Say it again.” Coriolanus spat, reaching forwards, hand cupping your cheeks, squeezing them between his fingers so your lips puckered. “Who do you belong to?”

“You, Coryo, you. You- oh!- it’s only you. Only you.” You babbled, tears leaking out of the corners of your eyes as your orgasm consumed you. He didn’t stop, squeezing tighter around your cheeks.

“You’re all mine. Mine. You belong to me, you got that? Not anyone else.” Coriolanus growled, his thrusts faster now, leaving you no time to recover. You whimpered at the sensation, the sensitivity.

“You’re never leaving me, either. You got that?” Coryo snarled. Your eyes had glazed, looking at the wood ceiling above him, half heartedly pushing at his arm.

Coriolanus’ hand pulled your chin back to him, stilling suddenly, still deep inside of you. “Look at me.” He sneered. Your eyes fluttered to him. “You’re not leaving me, ever.” He held your gaze, his wild eyed one peering back at you.

“Say it.” Coryo demanded. You whimpered, his hips pressing further into you, filling you more- you didn’t even know he still could, you felt so full already. “Say it!’

The sheer possessiveness, his tone, a chilling edge that had you shuddering. “I-I’m not going anywhere.” You whispered, voice caught around the lump in your throat. “I’m not going anywhere, Coryo, staying with you.”

“Forever?” Coryo hated how needy he sounded, but he doubted you noticed, not with the way your lip was trembling, eyes glazed.

“Forever.” You repeated, squeezing his wrist lightly. “Forever with you. Only you.”

Coriolanus dropped himself over you, face buried in the crook of his neck to breathe in your sweat soaked scent, rutting into you like a mutt in heat until he was spilling, presseed deep inside of you, milking his load into you.

The walk back to the train was much slower this time. You clung to Coryo, legs wobbly and unsure, his arms wrapped around your back. It was silent, the chirping of the birds, the breeze floating between the leaves, your only sound.

Coryo left you later that night, tucked into the bed, pressing a kiss to your head. You didn’t pry as to where he was going, and he was grateful for that. You didn’t ask why he smelled of smoke when he came back, why he was just as ravenous as before, which he was even more thankful for.

As Coriolanus left you, meeting with the General over the Peacekeepers, leading them back through the thicket, he thought of her. Her smug grin, her in his mother’s shawl, how she’d just left it- left him. He thought he’d never recover after Lucy Gray. Then he met you. How you treasured every gift, only looked at him, craved him the way he did you.

You wore his mother’s ring with pride, and he knew she’d be pleased with you.

Which is why he had to kill all of his past before you.

Kill the woman who wrecked him, the girl who took his heart and shredded it, made it jagged for your hold.

And as the cabin burned, scorched under the starry night sky, Coriolanus was pleased knowing his last memories of the cabin were with you instead of her.

Knowing that part of him was ash like the wooden cabin was now, soot mixed with the soil of District Twelve.

Coriolanus returned back to you, holding you as close as he could in his arms, skin to skin, heartbeat to heartbeat. You were his, and he was yours. Now until forever.

2K notes · View notes

rubiehart · 3 months

Text

based on that one lip scene from season six;)

jj maybank’s accepted he’s completely and utterly pussy whipped. not for any random girl, but his best friend at that. he’d thought he’d gone limp at first, some high power refusing to let him get it up.

he’d realised the one thing that could get him going was you, right hand gripping his phone as pictures of you in your swimwear, tight around all the right places, jj’s cap rested carelessly atop your head, lit up his screen in the guest room of the chateau as he jerked his cock harder in the dark.

the time he finally accepted the fact was on a hookup with a touron, a common occurrence that hadn’t happened for a while, his best friend being the reason, but he needed to blow off some steam, so the brunette girl who’d been eyeing him across the bonfire all night would have to do.

he’d charmed her into his bed like he usually did, now he was laying against a stack of pillows, the girl was topless by now, her hand having been jerking him for the past twenty minutes, and he wasn’t getting any harder, jawline tightened as he stared at the ceiling, with his hands behind his head, trying to imagine that picture of you.

“it’s been twenty minutes.” the girl huffed, clearly bored, rolling her eyes in his direction.

“yeah.” he huffs out, pissed at himself, willing his cock to harden just to save himself the embarrassment.

“my hand is cramping!” she exclaims, pulling it from under the covers and flexing her fingers, trying to get the feeling back as he throws his head back, sighing.

“just give it another minute?” he questions, blinking slowly at her, jaw still tightened as he reaches slowly for his phone resting on the nighstand the girl’s back was facing.

“okay.” she sighs, pushing her hand back over his cock and gently stroking. “thanks.” he mumbles, flicking on his screen and entering his password, checking the girl wasn’t looking before swiping onto instagram, finding the bikini picture and groaning a little.

the girl took it as praise as his cock stiffened almost on command, “all rightttt. we’re in buisness.” she grins as he nods, half assed as he stares longingly at the picture, trying to imagine it was you jerking him, it was your tits pressed against his bare chest. that thought had him cumming in less than a minute. jesus, he was so whipped.

#jj maybank blurbs #;bsf!jj #jj maybank #jj maybank smut #jj maybank x reader #jj obx #jj maybank outer banks #jj maybank fluff #jj x reader #jj maybank headcanon #jj maybank blurb

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povlnfour · 7 months

Text

ੈ✩‧₊˚ SECRET LOVE SONG (CL16)

pairing: charles leclerc x girlfriend!reader

summary: an anonymous account starts posting photos found on a private account supposedly belonging to f1 superstar charles leclerc. as the photos start circulating, an unknown face joins the picture that leads to speculation charles has a girlfriend he’s been hiding.

*faceclaim: seo soojin, but please imagine her as you see fit

anonymousf1 just posted a photo ੈ✩‧₊˚

liked by 9,016 people

anonymousf1 post dated 23.06.22, captioned ‘shirtless season in full swing’

view all comments

user UM. IS THAT CHARLES???

user wait we’ve never seen these photos before right?

user @/user nope don’t recognise them? could be wrong but

user check the bio on the account they’ve all come from an account called see.el.sixteen ? CL16??

user whilst i don’t support leaking people’s private accounts… thank u for these beautiful photos

user @/user i just want to know who took them

anonymousf1 just posted a photo ੈ✩‧₊˚

liked by 10,713 people

anonymousf1 post dated 28.12.22, captioned ‘day 1 - day 2 - day 3’

view all comments

user i know these are being leaked but i’m giggling over how simple his caption is

user HES SO BOYF CODED HOW IS THIS MAN NOT TAKEN

user hating the method loving that we’re actually getting charles content

user @/user IKR PHOTOS FREE FROM THAT FILTER

user gonna be that person and say i’m eating this content up

anonymousf1 just posted a photo ੈ✩‧₊˚

liked by 15,481 people

anonymousf1 post dated 04.08.23, captioned ‘caught’

view all comments

user who is he looking at with so much love

user i need to know who took these bc the way he’s looking at them…

user all this boyfriend content,,, not so sure this man is single anymore

user WHO WHAT WHEN WHERE WHY

anonymousf1 just posted a photo ੈ✩‧₊˚

liked by 23,107 people

anonymousf1 post dated 03.02.23, captioned ‘in between study sessions’

view all comments

user WHO IS THAT

user UM

user THE MESSAGE ON THE HAND??? DID SHE DRAW THAT??? IS HE TAKEN??? IM SO LOST

user first photo and how pretty he looks distracting me from the fact he poSTED A GIRL?

user heyyy admin post a clearer one so i can see her

user @/user literally i wanna see how cute she is

anonymousf1 just posted a photo ੈ✩‧₊˚

liked by 28,100 people

anonymousf1 post dated 12.05.23, captioned ‘❤️’

view all comments

user IS THAT HER?

user oh my god she’s HOT

user THE SINGLE RED HEART. IM READING INTO IT.

user wait she’s so pretty

user THE POLAROIDS WITH THE DRAWINGS ON THEM☹️☹️☹️

user so this is charles’ girlfriend?

anonymousf1 just posted a photo ੈ✩‧₊˚

liked by 34,512 people

anonymousf1 post dated 06.06.22, no caption

view all comments

user oh so it’s been going on for a YEAR???

user trying to pretend i’m not reading into them laying that close in swimwear

user oh so this is definitely his girlfriend huh

user heartbroken bc he’s off the market, ecstatic bc he’s happy

user @/user until he learns his entire private account is now on the internet

anonymousf1 just posted a photo ੈ✩‧₊˚

liked by 35,407 people

anonymousf1 post dated 19.09.23, captioned ‘singapore your sights are perfect’

view all comments

user THE CAPTION — HE MEANS HER☹️

user i love watching the likes go up with every post

user THATS DEFINITELY HIS SHIRT TOO

user we don’t have confirmation they’re dating but i’m taking This as confirmation that they’re dating

anonymousf1 just posted a photo ੈ✩‧₊˚

liked by 38,990 people

anonymousf1 captioned ‘happy birthday sweet girl’

view all comments

user oh. Oh.

user SWEET GIRL☹️☹️☹️☹️

user i know i’m here for charles… but i’m absolutely obsessed with her

user DOES ANYONE KNOW HER INSTAGRAM

user @/user I THINK THIS IS HER ??? @/yourusername

user @/user DAMN SHES PRIVATE BUT THE ICON IS DEFINITELY HER

user @/user at least we know her name is y/n

anonymousf1 just posted a photo ੈ✩‧₊˚

liked by 47,501 people

anonymousf1 post dated 19.10.23, captioned ‘3 years with you. hoping for 30. and more if you’ll let me’

view all comments

user THREE WHOLE YEARS??? HES HIDDEN HER FROM US FOR T H R E E YEARS?!?!?

user oh my god it’s official. they’re actually together

user THE SECOND PHOTO THEY ARE SO CUTE HELLO

user y/n is mother already

user i want to pinch her cheeks but also slam my head on a table

charles_leclerc just posted a photo ੈ✩‧₊˚

liked by yourusername and 1,127,805 others

charles_leclerc secrets out i guess. not the way i wanted it to happen but glad i can finally show you off. mine forever❤️

view all comments

user HE MADE IT OFFICIAL OHHHH HE LOVES HER

user sorry your privacy was invaded king but thanks for giving me a new woman to obsess over

landonorris finally i can stop editing y/n out of the photos i take

user MY FAVOURITE COUPLE ALREADY

user @/yourusername go public so i can cry over how pretty you are pls

yourusername @/user 🤭 bet

yourusername just posted a photo ੈ✩‧₊˚

liked by charles_leclerc and 204,561 others

yourusername privacy is sexy but so are you

view all comments

user MOTHER.

user THANK YOU FOR ALL THE CHARLES CONTENT

user 10/10 recommend stalking her account guys she posts the best charles pictures

user MA’AM THANK YOU FOR LETTING US IN IVE WANTED TO SCREAM ABOUT HOW HOT YOU ARE FOR FOREVER

charles_leclerc always been a woman of few words. love you baby❤️

yourusername @/charles_leclerc i love you more

charles_leclerc @/yourusername you’ll have to fight me on it

——

a/n:

first quick charles post bc this idea came to me last night and i wanted to make it happen <<33 there will be a proper au for him later in the week (just need to edit all 5k+ words) but for now ta da

as always, let me know your thoughts!!! and it goes without saying,,, privacy IS sexy, don’t leak people’s photos unless it’s in social media au form <<33

- giselle xx

taglist (found here): @sunflower-golden-vol6 @six-call @skatingiswalkingincursive @peqch-pie @m0cha-bunny @ironmaiden1313 @champagnelovers101 @alessioayla @hobiismyhopeu @mingkyungseokie

#charles leclerc #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc smau #charles leclerc one shot #charles leclerc imagines #charles leclerc scenario #f1 imagine #f1 #f1 x reader

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httpknjoon · 9 days

Text

a summer fashion choice | jjk

plot | This summer heat got you and your friends to enjoy your day at Blaire's beach house in the ocean. While everyone suits in their swimwear, your friends wonder why Jungkook your secret boyfriend is wearing a high-neck shirt.

words | 2.7k+

genres | fluff, crack, secret relationship au, established relationship au, friends to lovers au

pairing | jungkook x reader

note | they are just getting sloppier and sloppier atp 🥴 anyway, enjoy reading!! let me know ur thoughts 🫶

main masterlist | drabble series masterlist

“Look at him, all focused on his laptop and work.”

Jenny rested her elbows on the white sand while turning her head to the beach house. Specifically on its porch, where your secret boyfriend types eagerly on his keyboard while answering a call through his Airpod. His eyes were focused on his screen and you swore you could see the gears in his head turning at a rapid pace. You thought he could enjoy this weekend but he got a call after you had breakfast with everyone this morning. You sighed, shaking your head.

“I heard he is working for a possible promotion.”

“Yeah, but we are on vacation right now,” Dara replied while putting on some sunscreen on her arms.

Your two friends shifted their conversation to other things. But your gaze remained on Jungkook. You watch Blaire approach him after his call, softly patting his back. She points out to the ocean while talking to him. Jungkook chuckles and shakes his head. Blaire walked away, also shaking her head with a smile. Even though she wore dark aviator sunglasses that matched her lace cover-up, you felt like she was looking at you. You confirmed it when she sat beside you.

“That guy cannot stop working after we had breakfast. Next time that I’m bringing you all here at the beach house, I am confiscating your gadgets,” she spoke out.

“Geez! Mom, relax.” Jenny exhaled exaggeratedly like a teenager, making you and Dara giggle. “You should check on your other kid though.”

She pulled down her sunglasses and pointed her finger to the other side of the beach. Wooshik, whose body is buried underneath a large amount of sand, has been shooing Bam away, who is licking his face.

“Who the hell spread peanut butter on his face?!” Blaire laughed.

Dara raised her hand, “It was my idea. But we all smeared it on his face.”

You nodded, remembering that you were also the one who called Bam to first smell your friend’s face. The sand was too heavy on his body that Wooshik could not even raise his hand to push Bam away. By the time he was able to get off the sand, his face was already shiny clean with your dog’s drool.

“Hey!”

You all stood up to run when Wooshik threw sand directed at your area. Bam ran behind you and your friends, laughing and playing on the seashore. You don’t know who ran towards the ocean first but you, Blaire, Dara, and Jenny worked all together to splash water against Wooshik. It did not last long as your arms got tired and you asked for a truce.

“Oh, no. Bam, baby, stay there!”

You quickly ran from the salt water when you noticed your dog running in your direction. Thankfully, you met him halfway, just when he was about to take a step into the waters. That was when you decided to sit with him on the sand. You two watched your friends playing in the water. You were smiling until you remembered your boyfriend who was wasting this day with his laptop. That’s when you pick up your sheer white wrap skirt and tie it around your hips. You also attached Bam’s leash to him again, just to make sure he won’t run away from you.

“Let’s go, Bam.”

Barefoot, you strolled on the warm sand on your way. Even though it was close to the afternoon, you still find the heat endurable to enjoy the beach.

“Hey…” you softly smiled at him.

“Hey.” he was typing on his laptop when he responded.

You pulled one of the vacant seats around the small table and sat on it. You noticed a little thick compilation of papers on the table. You wondered if he planned to do his job here today since he had all of these back in his car.

“Babe…” you called him with a careful tone.

He threw a short glance at you before reading something on the paper, “Yes, princess?”

“You know that today is Saturday, right?” you told him while Bam sniffed your resting hand.

“Yes. But I forgot that I was supposed to do this last night and I didn’t because we drove here.” he reasoned. “And I need to pass this–”

“When is the deadline?” you cut him off, knowing that he is just doing this all for a reason.

“It’s…” he paused, looking back at you while biting his inner cheek. He knows that you know why he was doing this. So, he cannot tell lies even if he wants to. “It’s two weeks from now.”

You leaned back in the chair while crossing your arms, “You know what I am going to say, right?”

He nods his head, “But they will announce the promotion soon and if I pass this report earlier than others, I might–”

“You might end up really tired and overworked.” you cut him off again. This time, sounding more serious. “You have a deadline for a reason. Plus, we came here to enjoy this weekend. You still have time to do that when we get back to the city.”

“But I want to pass this report as soon as possible.” he firmly said, undeterred.

“Okay, whatever you say.” You gave up, getting up.

The moment you said that Jungkook instantly felt the shift in the air. Your back is already turned to him as you walk back to the house. His chest tightened and it’s like something is stuck in his throat. Before he can even call your name again to talk, Bam barked next to him. As if he knows his dad did something wrong.

Might as well go read a book or watch something, you thought.

Admittedly, you were annoyed that Jungkook is firm about doing that report here, especially when he said that it’s still due in the next week. Usually, you understand him being this workaholic since he has been aiming for that promotion. But it’s not like you will get to go here again next weekend.

You searched around the room for that book you brought with you. Under the bed, under the sheets, and even your luggage. Surely, you brought it with you. You remembered reading it before Jungkook sneaked into your room last night. While looking on the bed again, you heard a couple of knocks on your door.

Busy, you only said, “It’s unlocked.”

That’s when Jungkook steps into your room. He noticed your scrunched eyebrows when you looked at him after looking under a pillow. His heartbeats fastened as he slowly closed the door behind him. You were busy searching for something and he was about to ask but then your expression changed after looking under the other pillow. Finally, you looked at him, holding the book to your chest.

“Where’s Bam?”

“I left him with Blaire. She took him with her on the sand.” Jungkook took a step closer.

You acted naive, walking to the other side of the room where your luggage was left open. You began cleaning up the mess you made while looking for the book.

“Are you done with your report?” you asked without even looking at him.

“No.”

You didn’t say anything and neither did he. So after zipping up your stuff, you have already decided to leave and read outside. But you wanted to freshen up first. You looked at yourself in front of the mirror, ignoring your boyfriend who sat quietly on the bed but obviously watching you. You meet his eyes through the mirror.

“Then, what are you still doing here, Jungkook?”

No babe? Or even Kook? Jungkook frowned, getting up behind you. He wrapped his arms around your waist before resting his chin on your shoulder.

“Princess…” his tone was pleading. “I’m sorry.”

With how close his warm breath on your ear, it sends shivers all over your body. You wonder how did the temperature get high gradually, almost matching the heat outside. You tried to keep your composure, not breaking any expression on your face while you asked him again.

“For what?”

Gently, Jungkook turns you around to directly face him. His hands were still on your waist and the space between you two was almost nonexistent. You looked straight into his eyes while clenching your jaw.

“I’m sorry that I’m working during the weekends and I pissed you off when you just want me to enjoy this day,” he said, almost a whisper.

At that point, you already lost yourself. Your gaze went from his eyes down to his lips when he began speaking. After you realized what were you doing, you looked at him.

“I’ll accept that apology if you tell me you won’t be doing any work for the rest of our time here.”

He raised his left hand and stood like a true follower, “I promise that I will not do any reports while we’re here.”

Jungkook waited for you to say something but you simply ran your hands through his hair. You softly massage his scalp with your fingertips just like what you usually do when you know he’s tired or when you two shower together. You figured he was enjoying your thing when his eyes closed as his hold on your waist tightened. Your eyebrow raised before tugging on his hair, causing Jungkook to groan.

“Just… enjoy,” you mumbled.

Jungkook nods, slowly opening his eyes, and the first thing he sees is that little smirk on your lips. He smiled while wrapping his arms around your waist, pulling you closer to him. You were the first one to lean in and make your lips meet. But as you were about to pull away, Jungkook held you firmer, deepening the kiss. You once again tugged on his hair. He responded with a soft moan. The kiss became more passionate. You two moved in sync, moving closer to the bed, without breaking the kiss. You straddle him. The next thing you know, your lips were tracing kisses on his jawline down to his neck. Lost in the moment, Jungkook tilts his head back. You move your hips slightly, earning another groan from him.

“Everyone’s outside?” you asked in between kisses.

“Mhm…” he hummed “Princess…”

You mindlessly began sucking the skin just below his jawline. He gasped, his hand squeezing your thigh gently. You did it a couple of times more before you pulled away and were about to reach and untie your top from the back when you noticed the dark bruise forming on his neck.

“Oh, shit,” you murmured.

Jungkook opened his eyes, “Why?”

You look at him with a look of guilt on your face. You were trying not to smile, pursing your lips. He tried to stop you from getting up from him but you pulled him to the mirror.

“What– Fuck.” Jungkook cursed while tracing the hickeys you left on his neck. “That’s a lot, Princess.”

You were trying so hard not to laugh, “I’m sorry.”

Jungkook was about to speak when you heard knocks on your door. Your eyes widened.

“Come out, lovebirds. We’re having barbecues outside for lunch.” Blaire spoke.

You and your boyfriend looked at each other, silently asking each other what to do with the obvious bruises on his neck.

“Tell me, why the fuck is your boyfriend wearing a turtleneck in this burning weather?”

After having lunch, you and your friends went back to the beach to play volleyball. You take turns cooking the remaining barbecues and playing. You and Blaire were sitting on the side when she asked you that question. Her tone was not even asking, just genuinely curious and you understand. Because it is really weird why someone would wear a turtleneck shirt on the beach. Worse, it’s not even the swimwear type. It’s cotton material.

Unfortunately, that’s the only remedy you and Jungkook can think of earlier. You cannot really think of any answer so you were relieved when Dara sat next to you guys. You tapped Blaire, asking her to keep her lips sealed.

“I hate playing with those competitive players,” Dara said, referring to Jenny, Wooshik, and Jungkook.

You and Blaire laughed, offering her a drink instead. Jenny was playing alone against the two guys. Her competitive nature naturally takes on every time the ball is served to her side. You and the others just cheered for her on the side, chanting her name. You all cheered louder when Jenny got another win.

“See? I told you, you can’t move properly with that shirt.” Wooshik grunted at his best friend.

Jungkook fought back, “I am literally the MVP of this team. Four out of five points came from me.”

You laughed at their immatureness whenever they were together. Jenny asked for time out and you gave her a glass of iced tea. The guys followed, getting their barbecue and drink.

“Why are you even wearing that? We’re on a beach.” Dara asked.

Jungkook took a glance at you before replying, “I… I got bad insect bites.”

Wooshik, who quietly caught that, asked, “Where? On your neck?”

“Y-Yeah.”

“Oh, I brought a cream for that!” Dara began searching through her beach bag. “Here!”

Jungkook awkwardly accepted the small tube Dara handed him, “Thanks.”

“You should put it now. It relieves the bite almost instantly,” she added.

“Oh, okay. I’ll put it later when I’m back in my room.” he reasoned.

“Why not now?” Wooshik squinted his eyes.

It didn’t help that your other friends also encouraged him to put it now. You remained quiet, gulping your drink until there was nothing left.. Jungkook can tell that you ran out of ideas too.

“Well, okay…” he sighed. Fuck it.

He removed his shirt and his friends almost had the same reaction as soon as he got his shirt over his head.

“Oh… Oh.”

Dara has her eyes wide open, staring at the insect bites. Her lips were formed into a small o. Jenny was confused, lines forming between her brows as she scanned his neck. Wooshik choked on something and was coughing for a good ten seconds. Blaire was covering her lips, obviously hiding a smile on her face. And the insect herself, you, looked away when you met his eyes.

“What?” Jungkook broke the silence. “It’s bad, I know.”

Jenny cleared her throat, “What… what insect bit you again?”

“I-I don’t know. I just saw them after I finished doing my workloads earlier.” he lied.

“I’m sorry but why does it look like hickeys?” Dara giggled.

“Dara!” Blaire scolded her.

Then, Wooshik joined, asking, “But is it though?”

“It’s not!” Jungkook exclaimed. “I-It’s actually kinda itchy.”

“It looks bad…” you awkwardly commented, just to break off your personal silence.

You feel bad seeing him cornered like this but embarrassed at the same time with your artwork on his neck. Jungkook turned his head to you with his eyes narrowing.

“I know, YN. That’s what I said.”

His tone seems a little annoyed and you totally understand why. Although this isn’t the first time you gave him love bites, you managed to hide it before.

“Then, you should totally put that cream Dara gave you.” you remind him about the said cream in his hand.

“After you put that, let’s go back to playing,” Wooshik told everyone. He then turned to his best friend, “And you keep your shirt off. The hickeys– I mean, those bites are gonna be fine.”

The sun was already setting when your friends decided to go back to the house. You decided to stay for a little longer on the shore to take pictures of Bam. Jungkook got back the house too to get his camera.

“Bam, look at here!” you tried to get Bam’s attention.

You were so focused on taking pictures that you didn’t notice Wooshik returning to look for his slippers.

“Do you want me to take pictures of you and Bam?” he asked.

You turned around, “Oh, it’s fine. Just Bam.”

He nods before turning his back, “Okay, Princess.”

You paused, confused, “What did you call me?”

“Princess?” Wooshik faced you and the first thing you noticed was that stupid smile on his face. “Oh, I thought you like being called that.”

Speechless, you just shook your head. Wooshik chuckled at your answer. A mix of confusion and surprise was painted all over your face.

“Okay, don’t stay out here for too long. You might get insect bites. Just like Jungkook.” he reminded you before running back to the house.

You rolled your eyes, whispering, “He knows.”

TAGLIST (closed)

@hobiuwusunshine @alinerl @bbangtanlove95 @daydreamiies @craftymoonchaos @awseokjin @yoonabeo @luvrsofbts @bloopkook @chvngbiin @takochelle @wildarmy @cuddlysoftbear @luv-minhyun-world @shydestinyyouth @bbtsficrecs @fan-ati--c @rjsmochii @jkbabiey @hopeworldjimin @chieftoadturkeynickel @ppeachyttae @tannies-luv @loomipee @sanctify-mp3 @stuffy1985 @di0rgguk @tswisal1 @amara-mars @jksgirlhere @callmejimmeo @rapmonie2047 @daemontargaryenwhore @juju-227592

#bts fluff #bts series #bts drabble #bts scenarios #bts secret relationship au #bts established relationship au #bts friends to lovers #jungkook fluff #jungkook imagine #jungkook x reader #jungkook drabble #jungkook series #jungkook secret relationship au #jungkook established relationship #jungkook friends to lovers #our little private love affair

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jamespotterismydaddy · 1 month

Text

The Manor

modern!aegon x neice!reader

A/N: this is based off a short little blurb i did the other day. just thought i'd make it into smth more

WARNINGS: SMUT!!, DUBCON!, incest, exhibitionism perhaps, pervy aegon

WORD COUNT: 1,468 words

There’s nothing you hate more than family gatherings. It’s a pity really because you know you would enjoy them if it wasn’t for one thing… your uncle. Aegon torments you endlessly. It started small when you were younger, tugging on your braids like a schoolboy. Now, it’s the way his touches linger. He gets more and more reckless with each graze… each grope. Your brothers could see, his mother could see if only they looked close enough.

It’s your grandfather’s birthday today, a summertime celebration that you resent because it means a whole weekend spent at the manor and Aegon loves nothing more than a tantalizing, off-limits girl in a sundress.

“You wouldn’t deny your favourite uncle a hug, would you?” He says with a smirk as you walk up the steps. Your step-grandmother is oblivious as she beckons you over.

“Family greets each other with hugs!” She encourages, pulling you into her soft embrace before pushing you into his.

Filthy arms snake around your waist and you hate how your body leans into his. You hate how good it feels when his hand slips up your dress to give your ass a sneaky squeeze, fingertips just barely grazing your clothed pussy. You try not to gasp as you push him away, glaring at him for his perversion.

“So good to see you, little niece.” He gives you a wolfish grin before letting you walk away, if only so he can watch you go.

~~~

You get into your bikini after unpacking, wanting to soak in that hot summer sun before it sets. You venture outside to the pool just to see that you’re the only one there as Daeron and Helaena are down by the beach and your dumbass brothers are probably napping after the long car ride. As for Aemond, who knows what he’s up to. You walk over to a sunchair and lay your towel on it as he sneaks up behind you. You feel the ties of your bikini top undo with one swift motion.

You whip around. “Aegon, you bastard!” You grab the sides of your top to keep yourself covered but that only gives him the chance to tug down your bottoms.

“Ohh someone’s keeping herself well groomed for me.” He muses as you pull them back up and shove him away.

“Keep your hands away from me, perv!”

“If you want my hands off then why did you shave your pussy bare for me?” He smirks, stalking closer to you as you back away.

“Who said it’s for you?” You snark back.

That comment pisses him off a bit and he grabs your arm to pull you back to him. “Yeah? Like you’re fucking someone.” He pushes his hand down the front of your bottoms. “Not when you’re this wet for me.”

“I hate you.” You squirm out of his hold but he still sends you off with a harsh smack on the ass as you storm away.

“Sure you do, sweetheart!”

You make your way to your room, locking your door and changing out of your bathing suit and into a short sundress so you aren’t lounging in swimwear.

Gods, maybe he’s right about you doing things for him. If you were so disgusted by his advances then you would probably want to drown yourself in clothing, rather than dress yourself in such a tiny garment. And more than anything, you wait around for him, eventually falling into a mid-day slumber.

You’re awoken by the feeling of gentle fingertips gliding up and down your navel before fluttering across your collarbones. When your eyes finally open, taking their time because of how groggy you feel, you’re greeted by the sight of him with a hand down his boxers as he strokes his cock, looking as divine as a fucking god. This is when you notice that the bust of your milkmaid dress has been untied to reveal your pert breasts. You say nothing as you flinch away like a spooked mare, only glaring at Aegon with ire in your eyes.

“You were so peaceful when you were sleeping and now you had to go ahead and ruin it.” He gazes at you with such lustful hunger.

“You like to prey on sleeping girls?”

“I like to prey on you.”

“I’ll scream.”

“Nobody’s home… and I like it when you put up a little fight.”

He gives you a little smirk before lunging at you. You slip off the bed but you’re not on the side of the room with the door so there’s nowhere to run. He backs you into a corner but just watches for a moment, wanting to make you antsy. His lack of action makes you take your chance and you try to bolt past him but he just grabs you around the waist. You swing around him slightly but his hold is firm. Both of his hands snake around your struggling body from behind, his left holding your upper torso all the way up to cup your right breast and his right sliding up your skirt.

“You’re fucking sick. I’m your niece.” You spit out at him.

“You’re just as sick as I am.”

You struggle in his grasp but that doesn’t stop him from getting a firm hold on your panties. He tugs on them and you whimper at the slight pain-pleasure as he uses the fabric to rub against your clit.

“Aegon, stop.” You whine breathlessly as he manoeuvres the garment around to start pleasuring you.

“Give in.” He kisses at your neck. “I know you want to. You’re not saving face for anyone but yourself.” He whispers into your ear.

“Fuck you.” You murmur but it just feels so good.

“You will, whether you’d like to or not. Just give in.”

You know you shouldn’t. You know it’s wrong but you tilt your head back to rest on his shoulder giving him better access to your neck.

“Good girl.”

He starts nipping and sucking at your soft skin even harder now as he unzips your dress. You’re only in your panties now as he shoves you back onto your bed, his lips immediately moving to kiss your supple breasts.

“Such nice tits, baby. Maybe i’ll have a turn fucking them after I split open that tight cunt.” He chuckles as your slight shudder and then rips off your panties so he can bury his face in your pussy.

You can hardly think of how to react as he devours you with such fervour. Aegon has been waiting forever for this moment; he couldn’t keep his eyes off you since you flowered and he eagerly wants to taste you. He wants you to fall apart on his tongue, and then his cock.

And so you do. Your high washes over you like you’ve never felt before. That sick feeling that has created a pit in your stomach only makes it hit even harder.

“Mmm, Aegon.” You whine, fingers tangled in his ivory locks. It’s the sweetest sound he’s ever heard.

He’s over you, pumping his length already before you’ve even had a chance to recover.

“Use a condom.” You pout, legs spread wide for him.

“Little brats don’t tell their uncles what to do.”

Your eyes widen and you can’t even move to stop him before he’s speared himself inside of you. His mouth is pressed to yours and he swallows all your protests before they can leave your lips. He kisses you with the same fervour that he ate you with as he fucks into you roughly.

“Don’t look at me like that.” He says after breaking the kiss, wanted a good look at your face as he ruins you.

“It’s too much.” You complain.

“Don’t be such a whiner.” He rolls his eyes and lifts your legs to push you into a mating press. If it was too much before, then it’s surely too much now as he somehow hits even deeper.

“Ah ah…” You let out little whimpers at the feeling of being filled so completely.

“God’s, never felt a pussy this tight. Knew you were saving yourself for me, baby.” He says cockily.

You can’t even form a retort, not with how cock-drunk you are from him pistioning his dick in and out of you. All you can think of is how close you are.

“I-I’m gonna cum.”

“Already? Didn’t realize you were such a little slut after only one little taste.”

He talks a lot of talk but once he feels your walls clenching around him, he’s done for. He only manages to get a few more hard thrusts in, fucking you through your high, before he finishes inside you.

Once you come down from your peak, you realize what he’s done.

“Seven Hells, Aegon. Did you just cum inside me?”

taglist(comment to be added): General: @urmomsgirlfriend1 @girlwith-thepearlearring @darylandbethfanforever9 @lovellies @juhdoche @papichulo120627 @watercolorskyy @ophelialaufey @aerangi @ravenclawprincess33

#aegon targaryen smut #aegon x reader #aegon targaryen x reader #aegon ii targaryen smut #aegon smut #aegon targaryen #aegon ii targaryen #hotd #hotd smut

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keraxxx · 5 months

Text

Hate or Jealousy? -Part 2

Pairing: Oliver Quick x Fem!reader

Summary: Oliver is starting to grow on you, physically and mentally. You can’t stop thinking about him and he knows.

Warnings: cursing, smoking, mentions of ed, clit rubbing, praising (kink), possible manipulation/coercion, spitting, not proof read

A/N: Hi guys! Again, part two is based off Oliver and Venetia a bit(sorry i couldn’t resist). Also I think i have one more request to write so i’ll get to that and post it tomorrow. I don’t know when part 3 when be out but i’m thinking around saturday/sunday, latest monday. Enjoy!

word count: 1.9k comment to be added to taglist!

Requests are open

Your heart sunk into your stomach as you looked at the cracked open door. You bite your lip nervously and quickly get up from the bath, water dripping down your exposed body. You grab your robe that was placed on the counter and look outside the room.. it was empty. Not a sign of anyone even in your room. Maybe you didn't shut the door and you were just tired and needed to rest. You cursed yourself out for overthinking and quickly drained the water from the tub before getting ready for bed, wearing your black silk nightgown. Tiredness slowly takes over and you eventually fall asleep, letting all the thoughts of Oliver drift from your mind.

Morning came and the sun is creeping through your blinds, almost blinding you as you open your eyes and adjust to the sight. You sigh as you slip your feet into your pink slipper that were just at the side of your bed. You needed to mentally prepare yourself for today, just incase someone saw you in such a vulnerable state last night. You open your blind and groan as the sun smiles at you. It was too early for this. You find your way to the dining area, your relatives already sitting down and enjoying their breakfast, Oliver no where to be found. You look at the assortment of food and your face grows sour. You eventually sit down and Duncan brings over a glass and pours water into it. You thank him with a slight smile before taking a sip, the coldness of the water almost burning your throat on the way down.

"You're not going to eat? You look up at your aunt with a smile. "No thanks. My stomach is in knots this morning." You hum and Venetia looks at you with a small knowing smirk. You ignore her uncomfortable gaze and look down at your fingers, picking at the skin around your nail bed. You hear footsteps coming near you and you look up to see Oliver. "Morning Ollie." Felix says as he practically shoves his face full of eggs. "Good morning." He smiles as he faces everyone, his eyes falling on you with a hidden smirk. Your face contorts with disgust.

"Sleep well, Ollie?" Elspeth asks as she she sits up straight with a smile. "Yes.. yes I did. I'd assume you slept well too. You look beautiful this morning." He smiles sweetly at her and she looks almost stunned for a minute. She mumbles thanks and smiles. You look at her and snicker quietly to yourself at her reaction to (in her words) "pretty boy" calling her beautiful. You look at Felix and he laughs.

"Stop being so flustered. It was only a compliment." Farleigh chortles as he looks into his almost empty cup of juice. You giggle slightly as your aunt scoffs sarcastically. "Oh stop." She says softly as she drinks her drink. Your uncle keeps to himself and so does Venetia, her eyes on Oliver as Duncan brings him his plate of eggs. Oliver picks at his eggs before taking a small bite. Everyone joins in a small conversation, enjoying their breakfast.

Its the afternoon and you, Farleigh, Venetia, and Felix are all in the fields, your clothes laid out in the grassy area. You lay on your stomach, reading a book. "Ollie!" Felix says joyfully, causing you to look up from your book. You hum to yourself as he comes in his swimwear. "No clothes in the field, Ollie." You say in a teasing tone and he looks at your body, your smooth legs lifted in the air behind you as you kick your feet. You smirk at him, your sunglasses blocking your eyes as you watched him strip himself from his trunks. Everyone's jaw dropped besides Venetia's. She smirks at the sight. "Well damn Ollie. That was unexpected." She giggles to herself as Ollie walks over. He lays down on his back near Felix and you avert your attention from him to Venetia.

"Did you see that?" You smirk and she hits your arm. "The whole world saw it. Not bad for someone like him." She bites the inside of her lip slightly, preventing herself from saying more. You smile at her and shake your head, going back to your book. You look at Oliver, his eyes locked onto Felix. He's observing Felix/s features as if he was an admirer of him. Farleigh locks eyes with you and shakes his head in reference to you looking at Oliver. You embarrassedly fiddle with the pages of your book, the paper smooth against your rough finger tips.

After a long afternoon, the family gathers yet again to eat dinner, everyone in their formal, yet usual, attire. This time, you're wearing a silky, baby blue dress with a crisscross back. You take a sip of the wine in your cup, swishing the liquid in your mouth before gulping it down. You look at your dinner plate, getting sick at the thought of taking a bite, it was repulsive just thinking of it. You just weren't in the mood to eat and Oliver noticed. "Not hungry?" He asks in a soft tone, just loud enough for you to hear. He looks at you with a concerned look. You look up at him and attempt to smile politely. "Mm no. Not at the moment." You lied and he furrowed his brows. "Okay.." He looks away from you and cuts a piece of his steak, plopping it between his lips and onto his tongue. You look away and clear your throat as you mess with the fabric of your dress, just as every other dinner.

You find yourself outside again after dinner, still in your dress. You're sitting on the same bench you were the other night you confronted Oliver for hiding from everyone. You cross your arms, a cigarette lit in your mouth. You're looking over your shoulder slightly, zoning out and unaware of your surroundings, being tipsy having to do with that. "Sleep walking again?" You turn your head and blink slowly as you look up to see Oliver, still in the same tuxedo he was wearing at dinner. “Hi Ollie..” You say softly slurring your words. He smirks at you and takes the cigarette from your lips, throwing it to the ground and stepping on it to put it out. “Rude.” You giggle as you look at the cigarette on the ground. He looks at you and cocks his head to the side. "You're so beautiful.." He whispers as he circles around you, stopping behind you. He leans down and gets close to your ear, his breath tickling you as he speaks, "You're just like Venetia. Now.. tomorrow night, you're going to eat breakfast and dinner." Your breath quickens at his words. "Do you understand?" You slowly nod your head, the affect of the alcohol growing stronger, putting you in a trance.

"Good girl.." Oliver chuckles in your ear before circling back in front of you, getting on his knees. You gasp as his hand rubs up and down your knee. "I don't want to lie to you..” He says softly as he stares at your hands in your lap. "I heard you last night.." He looks up at you, his blue eyes boring into yours. "Y-You did?" He nods with a smirk. "I bet you're begging to be touched by me.." He slowly lifts his hands under your dress, your jaw dropping open as you gasp. “Do you want me to?” He whispers as he leans closer to your face. You slowly nod and he smirks, his hand finding its way to your underwear. “Ollie we shouldn’t..” You whisper before you moan softly at his fingers teasing your clothed clit. “Oh but we should.. I know you want to..”

You lean your head back slightly and Oliver rests his free hand on your hip, pulling you in slightly. At this point, you’re practically soaking through your panties, probably soaking the stone bench beneath you. He moves his hand from under your dress and spits on his fingers as he looks at you with a smirk. You whimper softly as you feel his hand reach in your underwear. “Shhh.” He says as he hushes you, his mouth slightly agape in awe. “Oh darling,.” He hums before teasing your swollen and throbbing clit. “You’re so wet..” He chuckles. “I didn’t even have to spit…” He trails off as he focuses on your expression. Your eyes are close to shutting, your jaw open, a few groans filling the air. He takes his hand off your hip and teases your bottom lip with his fingers. You seductively stick out your tongue and tease his finger tips, the wetness of your mouth soaking them. He chuckles as he watches you. “Such a pretty girl..” His hand moves against your clit faster, causing you to choke out a whine as you now suck on his fingers.

“Ollie..” You say, slobbering all over his hand. You’re practically jumping against his hand and he’s watching you as if you’re a form of free entertainment. Oliver laughs softly. “Good girl..” He praises as he moves his fingers deeper into your mouth. “Just perfect.” He mumbles to himself. He teases your throbbing clit, your thighs shaking and closing around his hand as you get closer to your high. You see Oliver drag his teeth against his bottom lip, his eyes staying on yours. He removes his fingers from your mouth and places his lips on yours, his tongue teasing the inside of your mouth. You moan into his mouth, your hands tangled in his hair as you tug, causing a groan to erupt from Oliver. You tug his head back, moaning out loud as you open your legs, shaking at the euphoric feeling of his digits. “That’s it.. come for me.” He whispers and that sends you over the edge. You gasp while you release his hair from your grip and rest your hand on the side of his neck. You finish and he removes his hand from your panties with a smirk.

“What the fuck..” You whisper as you look at him get up. He wipes his hand on the side of his pants and he caress your cheek as he looks down at you. “Goodnight.” He says softly before walking off into the distance and back into the manor. Your jaw drops and you look out into the distance. “Oh what the fuck.” You bite your lip nervously before getting up, your panties soaked with your juices. You groan as you awkwardly walk back inside as well.

Next morning, the realization of what you had done kicks in. You feel a pool of guilt in your stomach as you lay in bed, unable to get up. You force yourself out of bed and walk to the dining table. You find everyone, again, eating their breakfast. You look at Oliver and he smiles at you. “Sleep well?” You nod slowly as you look at the assortments of food. You sit down and Duncan is about to pour you a cup of juice but you quickly grab his wrists. “Eggs.. please.” Everyone looks at you in awe. “Scrambled.” You smile at him and he nods, also a bit taken aback by your request. You look at your relatives.

“What? I’m feeling better this morning.”

Taglist: @l-ange-maudit @trashdemon04 @hahahafucku @powellssaturn

#x reader #fem reader #imagine #saltburn imagine #saltburn #saltburn 2023 #oliver quick #oliver quick smut #felix catton smut #saltburn movie #saltburn smut #smut #barry keoghan smut #barry keoghan

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strawberries-and-summer-days · 4 months

Text

"Beach days"

Pairing: Show!Luke Castellan x fem!reader

Summary: you and luke have grown up and have moved to the sea and started a small family together. And you spend a day at the beach.

Contains: Kisses, fluff, babies, and more fluff!

Word Count: 790

A/N: um so this is my first ever (idk even know what to call this) but i hope you like it!! its like 11:30pm when im writing this - so if there are any mistakes its cause im sleep deprived. The baby is a girl and takes after luke in looks. Also i don't know too much abt the percy jackson series so this might not be really accurate :) btw the baby's name is sunny.

You watch as Luke meanders around the kitchen, a baby sleeping soundly on his shoulder. A soft smile spreads on your face and a surge of love for the boy making pancakes across from you hits you in the chest.

"What?" he asks when he notices you staring.

"Nothing," you say, running your finger over the bench. "Just wondering what we're going to do today."

Luke smiles at you, his black curls falling lightly over his face. "i was thinking we could down to the beach and have a day with this little one," he says kissing your little girl on the head. He turns his back to you and continues to fuss over the pancakes he forgot to flip over "Ah damn."

You smile and slip off the stool you're sitting on and walk around the counter wrapping your arms around his waist and breathing in his scent. It always calms you - his scent - it brings a certain feeling of peace you've always craved.

"Mmm you're most definitely burning those pancakes," you tease, placing a small kiss on his shoulder before slipping away to get changed.

"Hey, not so fast!" Luke grins when you try to escape. "Y/N you are not leaving this kitchen without giving me a kiss." A giggle escapes your lips before you raise up onto your toes and press a light kiss onto his mouth.

"Will that satisfy your needs?" you ask. Luke's eyes burn with desire, "Definitely not, but I'll allow this to pass, just this once." You smile innocently up at him and gently take the baby from his shoulder.

"Hi my baby, hi Sunny baby," you say to the small child in your arms. "Let's get changed, hey? We're going to the beach today!" You gently press a kiss onto her forehead and sway out of the room blabbering softly to your baby.

Luke watches you leave the room with a lovesick expression on his face. He never would have thought the girl he met one day on the beach, reading a book, would be the love of his life, or that she would be holding their child, chatting to her about how much fun they're going to have at the beach today.

He turns back around to focus on the now burnt pancakes. He sighs, turning off the stove and placing the burnt pancake in the trash and moving the non-burnt ones into a container and places them in a bag to take to the beach, before slipping upstairs to change himself.

Luke walks into the room and falters slightly when he sees you. You're sitting on your bed in a blue and white swimsuit cooing over your baby girl in matching swimwear. "Aww doesn't Sunny look adorable?" you laugh when you notice Luke standing in the doorway.

"She's beautiful," Luke says, you're expecting him to be looking at the baby but instead he's looking directly at you. "So very, very beautiful." A blush creeps up onto your cheeks and you stand up putting the baby on your hip and walk over to Luke placing a soft kiss on his cheek.

"You're the best," you smile and start dancing around the room with the baby, laughing. Luke grins and changes into his swimwear before he joins you two dancing around smiling like a carefree kid. You love when he's like this just... him.

Sunny is sleeping in her carrier and you and Luke are sitting at the water's edge. Your head is resting on his shoulder and he is running his fingers absent-mindedly over your leg leaving tingles along where he's touched.

"I love you," he says suddenly standing up and helping you up too. You look up at him and feel a surge of love and adoration for the boy standing in front of you.

"I love you too," you say and press a kiss onto his lips. Luke wraps his hands around your waist and starts to sway with you dancing slightly. You rest your head on his shirtless chest, closing your eyes and breathing in this moment.

Luke rests his chin on your head and whispers. "I love you so much Y/N. You're a star in my darkness, my true light, my love, my life, my everything."

Tears well up in your eyes. As you look up to Luke. He has tears in his own eyes and is staring at you with a look of reverence. "You are my everything," you say back to him cupping his cheek with your hand and placing a kiss to his mouth. Savouring this little moment between the two of you, Luke kisses you back, fervently, pulling back only to pull you into a tight hug.

Sunny's disgruntled cries from the carrier break your small bubble of peace, and you pull away from Luke to pick her up. The small baby sitting on your hip as you walk back over to a now grinning Luke. "Hi Sunny baby," he says, taking the baby from you and wrapping an arm around your hips.

"My girls ready for a swim?" he says, gripping your waist and pulling you flush against his side. Sunny babbles happily in his arms and Luke places the softest kiss on her cheek before he gently places her into the shallow water letting her splash.

Moments like these make you the happiest. Where you both are grinning like idiots and just being with each other. Just being Luke and Y/N.

#luke castellan x reader #percy jackson fic #luke castellan x you #luke castellan x y/n #percy jackson fanfic #fanfiction #fanfic #percy jackson #emma writes ₊˚⊹⋆

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ratcash-wasgud · 4 months

Note

Beach episode with loser!Mizu,,,, she's lurking under the shade while everyone else is out in the water having fun like the- well loser she is

i love beach episodes!!! wahhh!!!! (i know basically nothing about beach culture btw)

i think this will be the last loser!mizu for a while guys (a couple days, until i realize i can't write anythinng else, and crawl back to my pookie). I have so many unfinished drafts ugghh.

mdni :p

+audios !! okay enjoy.

You and Mizu have gone to a couple of "dates", which all were just hanging out at or around the aquarium. Oh, and you once came to watch one of her games, but that's it. It's a very confusing relationship in Mizu's eyes.

For a while she already thought you two were dating, but Akemi quickly educated her on the wonderful world of talking stages. That day, Mizu decided that talking stages were her worst enemies. How are you not her girlfriend yet? It's not fair.

Akemi and Taigen only seen you once, and they were both intoxicated, and Ringo hasn't even met you, only in passing, so it's obvious they'd want to meet the person their grumpy friend is spending most of her time with. So Akemi arranges a beach hangout, and starts bugging Mizu about bringing you along, with "Come onnn, don't you wanna see her in a bikini?" typa comments.

Mizu, even though the last time you hung out with Akemi and Taigen it turned out very much embarassing to her, gives in after a while.

After a brief text exchange which Mizu floods with horrible memes, just to ease her own anxiety, you say yes, and now here we are.

Mizu is setting up her little fortress of peace in the sand, which is a big, soft blanket with a parasol guarding her from the sun. Her usual shades sit on her nosebridge. Her choice of swimwear is made of a pair of dark blue swimming trunks with rubber ducks all over it, and a bikini top that looked eerily like her usual sports bra. You on the other hand were...running late.

Ringo sat down next to her and offered her a muffin from the big bag he packed full of food, while Akemi and Taigen started to splash eachother in the water.

"You're more quiet than usual." Ringo comments with a slight smile, munching on a muffin himself. Mizu sighs and takes a bite of hers.

"It's stressful." She says with a shrug. "We're close, very close...but somehow not close enough. Like...how do you ask someone to be your girlfriend?" Mizu says to her bestfriend, looking up at the big guy from under her shades.

Ringo purses his lips as she stares ahead, thinking about it. "Say..."Will you be my girlfriend?" I think that would work." Mizu facepalms.

"Well, yeah, obviously, dumbass." She says, throwing her head back with a groan. "But the other stuff. Like...atmospehere, timing, mood...and how do I know she likes me enough to make that step?" She rambles. "It's obvious I like her, I told her I loved her once! What if she thinks I'm desperate? I mean, yeah I am...but I don't want her to know."

Ringo looks back at her, like she just confused his little brain even more, which she did. "Then wait for her to ask?" He suggest, and before Mizu could answer and tell him that it would be a terrible idea, because what if you never ask, you arrive, almost on cue.

You are...indeed wearing a bikini. And Jesus Christ, Mizu's breathing almost stops alltogether. Yeah, she slept with you once, and saw more intimate parts of your body than your belly button and cleavage, but this is different. You have your heart shaped sunglasses covering your eyes. She remembers those glasses, and she can feel her stomach twist in a not-so-bad way. She gives you sublte little wave as you approach, but before you could get to her, Ringo raids you.

"Woah, hey! I'm Ringo! You must've heard a lot about me from Mizu, since I'm her number one friend! I'm sure we'll get along great!" He chirps excitedly. Mizu needs to hold back the urge to burry herself in the sand and never come out. But to her surprise, you just laugh.

"How charming! Hey to you too, Ringo." You shake his nub. Mizu noticed that you find a lot of things cute and charming that Mizu would find cringe or lame. Maybe because you're more easy going. You walked to Mizu's little fortress, and offered her a smile. "And hey to you, hermit." You chuckled, kneeling on her blanket. Miz could feel her heartbeat fasten, having you so close. She should've gotten used to it by now, but she was convinced she never will.

"Hey." She said with a small, almost unnoticalbe smile. "You look...good." She complimented you, her gaze falling to your breasts for half a second, but her shades were keeping her safe.

"Thanks. Got this one just a week ago." You say, slightly pulling at you bikini top's strap. "You don't look halfbad yourself." You say playfully, then grab a beachball from the mountain of bags placed next to the blanket. "You know how to play?" You look at Ringo, then back at her. Ringo nods enthuistacally, and Mizu shrugs. Of course she knows how to play. She is in the school's basketball team, she is very good at ball games, but she needs to stay humble. That's hot, right?

"We need one more player though to make it even." You say, and just like that, as if smelling a challenge, Taigen appears.

"Well, lucky for you," He starts, putting his fist on his chest. "The champion has arrived." Mizu rolls her eyes, and you just gasp dramatically. Akemi sits down on the blanket. "You go ahead, I'll be the judge I guess."

And with that, the match if the decade started. You were on a team with Taigen, and Mizu teamed up with Ringo. She wanted to be on the same team as you, but Taigen snatched you up first. That bastard.

"Don't think I'll go easy on you just because you're pretty." Mizu says, warming up her shoulders on the other side of the web.

"Complimenting me won't save your ass." You tease back with a wink.

"Wait, no, that's not what-" Mizu suddenly realized the meaning of her words, but before she could try and ramble herself out of it, the game started with Taigen serving. It went all well, since Mizu could block all of Taigen's hits, but when you were the one sending the ball her way? The woman froze.

Everyime you jumped up to hit the ball, your whole body bounced, especially that part that she couldn't take her eyes off of. The little victory punch you gave to the air after you scored, the way your hair stuck to your forehead because you started sweating, and the way you threw yourself at the ground to catch the ball last minute, making your soft body squish against the sand...it mesmerized Mizu.

It was obvious you took the game seriously, but sadly not as seriously as Taigen, who basically started beating his chest like a gorilla when he scored. The strategy was simple: Ringo would take your hits, and Mizu would block and eliminate Taigen's. It all went jolly for a good while of the game, until your bikini top slipped, revealing your underboob. You though nobody noticed, so you quickly pulled it back into place, But someone did notice. And that someone couldn't focus on anything else during the rest of the game.

The results came out with you and Taigen on top, but only by two points. It was infuriating as hell to watch Taigen give you a double high five, but you looked happy, and that made Mizu content. She was watching the scene, until Ringo nudged her.

"Now. Mood, and uh...vibe! All good. Do it now." He tried to whisper, but he was really excited. It took Mizu a moment to realize what he was talking about, and when she did, she gave him a determined nod. She marched to you, her cheeks burning, and a frown on her face that could be described as angry, but it was just a sign of her taking this seriously.

"You did good." She says, lifting her shades off her face, putting them up into her hair.

"Thanks. You two weren't bad either. You just decided to play against champions." You shrug playfully.

"So uh...I saw an ice cream booth over there. I could buy you one as a winning prize, or something." She offers, shoving one of her hands into the pocket of her swimming trunks. Her voice came out breathy, on one part from just finishing the game, and on the other...well...

"Free ice cream? Hell yeah!" You say enthusiastically, and get going. Mizu just follows you. Taigen stays there, looking confused for a second.

You stand there, staring at the different flavours of ice cream. "Mmm...I think I'll go with mint chocolate chip." You say, tilting your head, still considering it. "Or bubblegum!"

"You could get both." Mizu shrugs. You're very particular about your icecream, it seems. It's good to know. If she manages to score another date with you, she'll bring you to a pastry shop instead of an aquarium.

"Really? Awsome!" You celebrate to yourself. "What are you getting?" You ask, leaning closer to her. Mizu gulps.

"I'll just...have vanilla." She says, doing her damn best not to look at your lips that are so close. She whishes she could be on that level with you where casual kisses are a thing.

"Vanilla? Well that's a little...boring." You chuckle. "I think you'd like coconut." You say, pointing at the similar colored ice cream. The fact that you're comfortable enough to decide what could she like is so...so...

"Yeah, sure." Mizu shrugs again. She pays for the icecream, but doesn't start walking back to the others yet. "Here," She starts walking towards the part of the shore where big rocks could give some privacy. You follow her, kitty-licking your ice cream. That movement reminds her---fuck. Why is she acting like a hormone filled twelve year old?

As she stares at you while walking, you're staring at the water. She follows your gaze, and starts watching the water too. The waves and the foam splash against the sky, and the clouds hover above, now lightly pink and orange tinted from the sun almost setting.

Suddenly, you point at the sand: you spotted a jellyfish that got thrown out by the water. "Look!" You rush to it, and crouch down by it's side. "Do you think it's still alive. It's still wet."

"Yeah, like me when I'm near you." is what Mizu wants to say, but instead she just follows you. "I'dunno." You seem to worry about the jellyfish, which is...sweet. It's just a jellyfish to Mizu, but to you? It's already named Fred and has a twelve page backstory. Mizu, in an attemt to not let your mood get ruined, takes off her sunglasses, and places them on the jellyfish.

"Damn. I think he's still alive, he seems pretty fresh to me. Drippy, even." Mizu snorts, and you push her, making her land on her butt as you laugh with her.

"Oh my god...you're horrible." You say, your beautiful smile returning. Even if she landed on her ass, a win is a win. Mizu takes back her shades and throws the jellyfish back in the water.

Mizu then takes a deep breath. She looks at you, her blue eyes shining in the orange-ish light. She steps closer, and lightly takes your hand. She wants to make it seem like it's a casual thing, but her heart is drumming against her ribcage. She then pushes her already melting icecream close to your lips. "Wanna taste?" She ask.

You chuckle. She's adorable. You lean closer, and take a big lick off her treat. You notice that the white ice cream has already melted to her hand. You lightly take her wrist. "You're so messy." You say teasingly and start licking the ice cream off her fingers. Mizu's breath hitches as she watches your tongue work on her skin, licking her lips unconsciously.

"You're so fucking beautiful like that." She blurts out, her other hand coming up to gently cup your cheek.

You smile up at her, licking up the cone. That was the greenlight you needed. You move your head up, and push your lips against her. You taste like coconut, as she opens her lips, inviting in your tongue. Her hand lands on your hips, leading you more behind a bigger rock, away from the all the prying eyes. She lightly grips the soft tissue on your hips, her fingers cautiously wandering towards your ass as you devour her lips. She slowly pushes you against the rock. You already ate your ice cream, and her's is melted completely, it's soggy cone laying alone in the sand as her hands move up to cup your breasts.

"I wanted to do this ever since that stupid match..." She murmurs into the kiss, her finger's finding your nipples through your bikini top.

You grin against her lips, slowly exchanging positions until her back is against the rock. You run your finger's along her skin, feeling up the exposed muscles. Her abs basically guided your hand along to trace their shape, then guided your hand downwards. You undid her swimming trunks and got on your knees before her.

Mizu looks at you, almost hypnotized by how good you look on your knees. Before she could react, you pull her trunks down, and teasingly lick her folds. Mizu pushes her palm against her lips to silence the loud groan that wanted to escape her lips. You chuckled against her flesh, closing your eyes as you started to do your work. Mizu's long, slender finger's got lost in your hair, keeping your head in place as she chewed on the inside of her cheek to hold back her noise.

She mumbles you name over and over, her hips lightly bucking into your mouth. "F-Fuck...fuck, I love you..." She blurts out in a half moan, half whine. Is it the best time to say it? Not really. But is that stopping her? No. She is too filled with passion and her feelings are bubbling over the edge. "I have loved you...f-for so long...p-please..." She whines silently. "I...I-I want you t'be mine..so damn bad...oh God..."

You look up at her, her juices dripping down your chin. You then suddenly stick out your tongue, pushing it inside her walls. Mizu bites into her palm to keep quiet.

"You're so fucking cute..." You mumble into her, repeatedly pulling and pushing your tongue in and out. Your nose rubs against her clit, making it hard to keep standing.

"M'gonna cum...f-fuck, keep going..." Mizu groans, bucking her hips even more into your mouth.

You can feel her walls clench around your tongue as she reaches her climax, holding your mouth open so her juices basically slip down your throat withouth swallowing. After she comes down from her high, you pull away, wiping your lips with the back of her hand, pulling her swimming trunks back into place. You get up from your kneeling position and give her a sloppy kiss.

"D'ya mean it?" You murmur into the kiss, your arms wrapping around her neck.

Mizu's lost in the kiss. She doesn't even think about the fact that she should be freaking out right now. "Meant every fucking word...I want to be your girlfriend." She says, her hands hugging your waist.

And with that...Mizu returned home that day a taken woman. She listened to the playlists she made you (psst!), and somehow heard every song in a new light.

#loser mizu #blue eye samurai #bes x reader #blue eye samurai mizu #blue eye samurai x reader #mizu x reader #mizu fanfic #fanfiction #bes smut #smut #bes mizu #ai audio #bes audio #blue eye samurai audio #lesbian

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russellsppttemplates · 1 month

Note

Omg I love all your work! 🫶🏼

Can you do Fraser and Clara maybe they are dating and nobody know and Carlos catch them in her room and call Lando?

Im so sorry if my English is bad, is not my first language!

Note: thank you 🫶 don't worry about it, english isn't my first language either!

The Norris family had joined you for a family vacation, everyone travelling directly to Mallorca after the race.

"My sunburn from yesterday is still quite red, I'm going to my room and read there today", Clara reasoned as she saw everyone else get ready to hang out by the pool.

"That's smart, cariño, do you want me to reapply the cream?", you asked, wanting to make sure she was being diligent about it.

"I can do it myself - if I twist my arm like this, I can get there", your daughter exemplified before heading upstairs.

Everyone else seemed to enjoy the time by the pool, you choosing to swim instead of just sitting around until you felt something snap, "Oh! Crap!", you hissed, holding the top of your bikini to your chest as one of the straps ripped from the band around your back.

"Is everything alright?", Matilda asked you, brushing her wet hair away from her face.

"Yes, just my top strap ripped, I need to get a new one", you said as you stepped out of the pool, Carlos helping you with a towell, "Actually, amor, can you get it for me, please? I'll just get the floors wet and then someone will fall", you asked your husband.

Carlos nodded, kissing your cheek and heading up to your room. On his way there, he noticed Clara's bedroom door was open and he took a peek inside, seeing his daughter cuddled up to his friend's son. Clara's head laid on Fraser's chest, the teenagers taking a nap as Carlos recognised his daughter's book on the Norris boy's hand, his thumb marking the page.

Walking to the hallway's balcony, he waved Lando over, calling him to join him upstairs.

"Do you want me to help you look through your wife's swimwear? I'm not sure how comfortable I fe-oh! Oh", he gasped as he noticed his son cuddled up with Clara.

"Do you think they're together?", Carlos whispered.

"Wouldn't you be together to do something like that?", Lando mused as he watched his son's protective hold on who he assumed was his girlfriend.

"We have to tell the wives", Carlos said as they walked downstairs.

"Damn it", Lando muttered under his breath, "I have to tell my wife she was right about this", he tsked, receiving a raised brow from Carlos, "she has been saying that they're dating for a couple of weeks now".

"Happy wife, happy life", Carlos patted his back, "you have to tell her she was right".

(Thank you for sending this in ✨️)

#carlos sainz blurb #lando norris blurb #inês writes blurbs #f1 blurb #f1 x reader

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scenteddelusion5 · 3 months

Note

hiii

Can you do Velvette x insecure reader? (any gender(s))

I Don't Deserve You

Velvette x insecure reader

Note: A short but wholesome one!!!

Word count: 647

Velvette had met Y/n around three years ago. The sinner hadn't been in hell for long when she stumbled upon them. They weren't the prettiest nor the strongest demon, actually they were pretty weak but something pulled Velvette to them. One thing led to another and they started dating.

To say her colleagues hated their new-found love was an understatement, Vox and Val hated her new partner. Velvette would dote on them, buy them new clothes and show them of on all her socials. According to Vox letting the public know about her relationship with a weak sinner would be bad for their image. One time he had even tried to hypnotise them to break up but his plan fell through.

Val on the other hand didn't like their looks and though that Velvette could do WAY better and he took every opportunity to let her know. Once he even brought in one of his contracts that was the same type of sinner, they, however, were smoking hot. Velvette actually dared to slap the Vee in the face for that one.

She always reassured her partner that they were perfect. Still, Y/n couldn’t shake the feeling that they didn’t belong by her side.

On one hellish afternoon, Y/n laid on their shared bed and scrolled through their girlfriend's sinstagram. It showed a picture of the two of them in matching beachwear. Velvette stood by the parasol on the right while Y/n stood hunched over, looking through the cool box. The caption read: 'Two bitches at the beach, look out suckers! This ass is mine!'

They laughed looking back at their fun date. Scrolling down through the comments, they saw the usual replies:

Valentino_PIMP: We use the same swimwear line in the NEW angel dust porno, sluts!!

VoxTech_OFFICIAL: Line available on our online shop! Buy today, delivered tomorrow!!

Tiffany-PORNS: HOT!!! Ordering RIGHT NOW!!!❤️❤️❤️~

All of famous denizens, friends and colleagues. The usual but when they scrolled down, they came across these;

DoomBoom-482: Velvette hot as ever. Dont undorstand why shes whith that ugly.

Angel_FUCKER69: EEWWW!!! I didn’t want to see that 🤢

BAZUKAbAbY: we should just kill that bastard, they dont deserve our queen

Comment after comment, hating them. Tears filled their eyes as they read more and more.

Velvette walked into her apartment already angry, she couldn’t wait to complain to her partner about her shitty ass day. Valentino had ripped apart one of her best models on this busy fucking day.

She saw Y/n laying on the bed as she spoke, "you'll never guess what Valentino did today. Like I could just KILL him for thi-" She quickly cut herself off as she saw their puffy eyes stare at her. "What happened?"

"I-uhm..."

She jumped on the bed and laid down next to them. "What are you looking at? Show me." Velvette looked at the post, reading through all the comments. "You don't actually believe their bs?"

"Y-yes," they sniffed, "I don't deserve you... You are amazing, beautiful, smart, witty and I'm... Me."

"And you are THE BEST THING that EVER happened to me! There is no demon in hell that could make me laugh like you do! No one that can lift me up pike you do! No one who can make pancakes like you do!" She hugged them. "Everyone else are just shitstains!!! Without you, I wouldn’t be able to enjoy hell as much as I do now."

"Really?"

"Really, besides do you really think those basement dwelling, internet trolls would understand someone as fabulous as you and me?" Velvette kissed the top of their head.

"No."

"Then there is nothing to worry about. I love you and you love me. That's all that matters." She picked up her phone and looked through her liked pics. "Now I saw this really cute trend where couples choose each other's fits, wanna try?"

"Let's do it!!!"

Masterlist/request guidelines

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel requests #reader insert #reader requests #request #hazbin hotel velvette #hazbin velvette #velvette x reader #velvette x you #velvet hazbin hotel

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wndaswife · 2 years

Text

be my baby

wanda maximoff x fem!reader

tags: smut, d/s, infidelity, dumbification, strap-on, masturbation, manipulation, possessive & jealous behaviour, fingering, overstimulation, somnophilia, degradation, praise, mommy kink, dom!stepmom!wanda maximoff, sub!stepdaughter!reader. MINORS DNI.

word count: 12 505

summary: despite her controlling nature and possessive behaviour, your stepmother has always cared for you, and she'd do anything to show you just how much she does.

a/n: this gif makes me feel things

gif credit to creator.

Your stepmother had always been a bit controlling. Your father had never had an issue with it because he saw his wife’s ceaseless coddling of you to be a sign of the two of you getting along.

You had no real problem with her. She was touchy and, at times, overbearing, but she was more concerned with you than your own father, or anyone else, had ever been. Several times during the day when you were doing work in your room, Wanda would come upstairs with a plate of cut and peeled fruit, dinner you hadn’t come down for, cups of freshly brewed tea and coffee. She truly did care for you.

Although completely capable of paying for yourself, Wanda would buy your food and all your things when you went shopping with her. She picked out clothes she imagined you’d look nice in. Once, she held up a skimpy two-piece bikini for you to try on. You flushed bright red and tried turning your focus away from the woman who responded by repositioning the swimwear in front of your face.

She ended up buying it for you anyways when you were looking around the other side of the store.

What was initially seen by you as entirely too questionable and intrusive was eventually meshed into sweet, considerate gestures that made your heart swell and turned your limbs into jelly. It was normal to feel this way, Wanda had told you when you shied away from her wandering hands. This was a typical relationship for close stepmothers and daughters, and you knew nothing else but what Wanda told you when she whispered it softly in your ear as if it was an intimate promise between the two of you.

Wanda would place her hand on your leg under the dinner table, squeezing your thigh occasionally to remind you that she was holding you. The warmth of her curious hands grew to be a comfort, massaging your shoulders while you studied, pulling you backwards against the curve of her body by your hips while you washed dishes.

Despite her evident fondness for you, you tiptoed around your stepmother as stepdaughters often did.

On the night of your friend’s birthday party, you crept downstairs to the living room where you could hear your father and stepmother watching television together. You eyed the front door and all but slithered towards it, your steps muted and your breathing at a halt.

Then, a reprimand from behind you that caused you to restrain a groan, “Is this what you’re wearing?”

You turned slowly, trying to hold on to the little hope you had left that your presence would slip from Wanda and your father’s minds within the next several seconds. When you faced your stepmother from across the living room, her expression was cold and wildly judgemental, the corner of her mouth twitching as she held back further criticism that was no doubt sitting on her tongue, ready to be spat out.

Humming cautiously while you looked down at yourself, you answered, almost too quiet to hear, “Yes…?” But Wanda heard it. Of course she did. You looked back up, every movement slow and careful as to not rile her up. When your eyes found her, she had looked away from you. She was watching television again, your father’s arm wrapped around her shoulders as he called something over to you about being safe when you went out for the party.

But your eyes were on Wanda. Her expression and body language seemed all but docile, but the clenching of her jaw and the tapping of her fingers on the side of her thigh indicated that a significant portion of her previous disagreement towards your outfit remained.

Deciding that you didn’t want to deal with her anger, even if you could push it back for when you came home, you headed back upstairs, trying not to make your contempt evident in the way you dropped your bag right onto the floor before you went to change.

Wanda watched as you went back up to your room, eyes narrowed at your clenched fists. “I’ll talk to her,” she muttered to your father before standing up and following after you. She picked your bag up from the ground, eyes pinned on the stream of light coming from your ajar bedroom door. Once arriving at the top of the stairs, Wanda eyes landed on your undressed body beyond your slightly agape door. Her eyes flashed with mirth before she backed out of sight.

You were in a pretty lace set that Wanda got for you. When she gifted it to you for your birthday, she ensured that she had only wanted to make you happy, and despite your stubborn timidity, you couldn’t hide the way you loved how she took care of you. Wanda took her phone from her pocket and took a few photos of your cute little body, zooming in especially on your ass and the perfect swells of your breasts. Her pretty girl.

Once you had slipped on a black long-sleeved dress that reached your knees, Wanda stepped into your room with your bag in hand. You were standing in front of your vanity, bent over slightly to put new earrings on in the mirror to match your dress.

“Thank you for changing, lyubov,” Wanda said, placing your bag down on your bed. You watched as Wanda approached you from behind through your mirror. Her hips were pressed against your ass and you flinched forward, but your stepmother was quick to place your hands on her waist and pull you upwards so your back was flush against her front. The swift movement made you gasp and Wanda ran her hands up and down your sides soothingly in response.

With her arms still around your body, she slipped a few of her rings from her fingers. Rings held into one hand and her other holding your wrist up, Wanda began sliding her rings onto your fingers, slow and tantalising. Arousal grew within you, you causing you to buck your ass back into her hips. She switched to your other hand, your newly ring-clad fingers holding onto her wrist loosely. When she was finished, she lifted your hands up to kiss your knuckles. “Home by eleven, sweetheart,” Wanda reminded you, her hands returning to your sides as she looked at you through the mirror.

Wanda had set a curfew for you when she married your father. She laid down a lot of rules once she became part of your small family, and your father cared little to pose any arguments to her sudden possessiveness over his daughter. You had initially protested when she enforced things like curfews as you were a college student, and not even your father had set one for you since you were thirteen. But she always found a way to convince you.

Your shoulders relaxed entirely when she cupped your face with her warm hands while you had your foot down in adamant disagreement. She stared down at you tenderly before pulling you into a tight, protective hug. ‘I’m only worried for you, angel,’ she had told you. ‘You’re such a delicate, pretty thing. I’d never be able to forgive myself if anything happened to you.’ You closed your eyes once she finally convinced you, letting Wanda hold you while you finally conceded.

You nodded and turned your head to look at her. Wanda smiled down at you, pride growing within her at your submission evident in the way her eyes ran down your face.

“Come home early, baby. Let’s watch a movie together when you get back. It’s your pick tonight,” Wanda told you. When you nodded again, she let go of you and headed back to your bed to pick up your bag and hand it to you. You missed the warmth of her body, but her arm was soon wrapped around your waist as the two of you left your bedroom to walk downstairs.

You exchanged quick goodbyes with your father before Wanda led you out onto the front porch. She tucked your hair behind your ear and you tensed. Wanda giggled at your timidity. You were so cute.

“Do you need me to give you a ride?” she asked you, running her fingers through your hair. Your eyes avoided Wanda’s as her undivided attention was retained on you.

“Um,” you hesitated, “I’m okay. I’m going to walk to the store and Monica is going to pick me up from there.” Wanda never liked when you brought your friends up around her. You weren’t sure why she detested every friend you’d brought up around her, although you never asked, but she bristled visibly whenever you mentioned them and often snuck in snarky remarks about them at any given opportunity.

“She’s not just going to pick you up from here? She’s making you walk?” Wanda asked, eyes narrowed and eyebrows furrowed. Her blatant bewilderment at the idea of someone having you walk instead of offering you a ride spread warmth throughout your body. You almost hoped Wanda would pull you into her chest again and comfort you about the smallest things, including having to walk to the convenience store.

‘Oh, baby, it’s going to be okay. You’re a big girl, aren’t you? You can do it, sweetheart,’ she would say, petting your head and muttering sweet things into your ear.

It was normal to fantasise about those things about your stepmother, wasn’t it? Wanda always assured you that it was.

You tried to explain, mentioning your friends as little as possible, “I think I just want to bring a few drinks since I’m coming in a bit late, and Monica won't be able to pick me up for another ten minutes.”

“Let me drive you instead. You don’t have to wait for Monica,” Wanda insisted. There was something possessive about her offer, but you disregarded it.

“No, it’s alright, really,” you replied. “I need the walk.”

She raised her hands in surrender. “Okay. Fine,” she gave in. “Text me the address of the party, please. Now. So you don't forget to do it later.”

You tried to restrain your fingers’ trembling as you acted quickly in response to Wanda’s demand, taking your phone out of your pocket and opening your conversation up with her. You typed in the address and you could feel Wanda watching you as you did. Once it was sent, your stepmother pressed a kiss to your forehead.

“That’s a good girl,” she praised. You blushed and hid your reddened face from her. Wanda cupped your cheek. “Be safe. Text me if you need anything.”

Monica picked you up at the store after you bought a case of beer. The party was as good as parties typically were when you met up with your closest friends. You had a fun, easy time with them, dodging needy men and drinking enough that the hours slipped into minutes. Wanda’s curfew sped past you, forgotten in the myriad of flashing lights and perpetual movement that meshed together in the pocket of time that was a party.

Pulling you back down to the ground where time suddenly returned to existence, Wanda forced her way through the party you were at. The moment she stepped through the crowd and laid her eyes on you, you were circled by familiar and unfamiliar faces and a man feeling you up. His hand was placed on your knee, slowly pushing his way up your thigh and under your dress.

Scattered wolf whistles went unnoticed by you as Wanda pushed through several more people and wasted no more time in storming forward and taking your wrist in her hand. She forced you up and dragged you out of the house. You were being forced away from the man and your friends before you could even protest. Several drinks spilled from the sudden aggressive action until you were finally out of the house and in front of Wanda’s car down the crowded street.

“Wanda? What are you doing here?” you asked, finally coming to your senses and now able to question what was happening.

She opened the car door and shoved you in before getting into the driver’s side. Once slamming the door shut, she took hold of your jaw and forced you to look at her. “I’ve told you that you aren’t permitted to stay out past eleven, and you’ve blatantly disobeyed me. It’s one in the morning and you smell like booze. I come to pick you up, worried for you, and there’s a man sitting next to you with his hand up your dress. First, you won’t let me drive you, and now, this? How am I supposed to react, Y/N?” She lets go of your jaw and she cups your cheek softly.

“Is this what my little girl’s become?” Her very stare is condescending as she looks down at you, eyes narrowed as if she was scolding a child. “I expected to see my sweet angel when I came to see you tonight, hoping that you had just lost track of time like the little bimbo you are, and what I saw was you whoring yourself out like some needy bitch. Is that what you are? Hm?”

“No, mommy, please,” you begged, leaning up to hug her, begging her for her forgiveness. She loved when you called her that, and that was often her weak spot, but Wanda was persistent tonight.

“That’s not what I saw, sweetheart.” Her thumb stroked your cheekbone. “Have any of those men fucked you?”

You shook your head so hard you became lightheaded.

A small gratified smile formed on Wanda’s lips and you felt the weight in your stomach lift. “That’s what I like to hear, baby.” Her hand left your face and she started the car.

“Are you still mad at me?” you asked, your voice just above a whisper.

Both of Wanda’s hands found the wheel and she drove down the street, heading home. “Yes. But I know you’re just an idiotic, brainless girl. I’ll find a way to expect less of you next time.”

You sunk down in your seat dejectedly, the heavy feeling of having disappointed your mother outweighing any concern of the scene that happened at the party. You hardly thought about it at all as you stole a few glances of Wanda throughout the ride, her expression stone-cold and still. “Do we still get to watch a movie?”

Wanda shook her head and you watched intently as her eyes were focused on the road home. “I don’t think so, sweetheart. Not only do you not deserve time with me anymore, but you need to get your sleep,” she told you.

Even while angry with you, and disappointed, even, your stepmother was still thinking of you. A small smile pulled at your lips as you turned to look out the window, now comfortable with the feeling in Wanda’s car. Things were always better around her. Sometimes, you wondered why you ever chose to do anything but be by her side, to allow yourself to be shaped in her preference- in her hands. Everything was warmer there.

Perhaps, if they heard about it, your friends would ridicule your relationship with Wanda, but you couldn’t find yourself caring about what other people might think of the way she cared for you like you were her little pet. If Wanda asked for it, you’d make her your entire world without a second thought to it, doing nothing without her permission, your head filled with only the warm thoughts she put there.

When the two of you got home, the lights in the house were completely dimmed, making you think about how Wanda must’ve been waiting for you to come home at the curfew time you’d agreed to. You ducked behind her guiltily as she took her jacket off and locked the front door. As if you were a lost puppy, you trailed behind her as she headed upstairs, and eventually, to your bedroom.

“Where’s dad?” you questioned quietly, simply watching as your stepmother dug through your dresser for your pyjamas.

“Sleeping. Where else?” Wanda answered dismissively, tossing your clothes on your bed. She put her hands on her hips and glared at you. You shied away under her stare. If he was asleep, it meant that she had truly been waiting for you, for two entire hours. She really did like spending time with her precious girl. “You need to change,” she told you before leaving your bedroom. “Then come to the washroom.”

You did what she asked of you as quickly as you could, not wanting to keep her any longer than you already had tonight. By the time you joined Wanda in the washroom, you were in the pretty nightgown she chose for you, bought by her a few weeks ago, your hair brushed through. You stepped forward cautiously, but Wanda was quick to put an arm around your shoulders and pull you into her.

“Open,” she commanded simply, looking down at you as your head laid against her chest. You parted your lips immediately and a toothbrush was pushed into your mouth. Wanda began brushing your teeth for you, ridding you of the scent of booze that your stepmother hated when you’d been drinking around anyone other than her. “Since you can’t do anything on your own, mommy has to brush your teeth for you.” Wanda’s words were reprimanding, but the tone she took was soft. Her eyes, looking over your sleepy face as you were hugged against her body, were warm in admiration.

What sounded like an apology was muffled out of you, but Wanda clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth, silencing you.

Wanda continued to coo soft praises as she brushed your teeth gently, her arm wrapped around your shoulders securely as your body was hugged against her. “Doesn’t it feel better to be here with mommy, baby?”

You nodded.

She pouted in feigned sympathy, her eyebrows furrowing together as she nodded in response. “See, you’re not so dumb. My pretty princess can be smart, too.”

Wanda pulled the toothbrush from your mouth and rinsed it under the running sink. She leaned you forward, instructing into your ear, “Spit.” You did while Wanda took a makeup wipe from its package and pulled you upwards with an arm around your waist. The cold wipe was pressed to your face, and you realised that Wanda was taking your makeup off for you. You smiled at the realisation and an overwhelming urge to fall forward and lay your head on her shoulder came over you. But you wanted to be good for your stepmother, so you stayed still and closed your eyes while she removed your mascara, her other hand angling your head up with her finger hooked under your chin.

When she was done taking your makeup off, she threw the wipe out and entrusted that you could wash your face on your own. You promised her that you could. She slipped off her rings that you had borrowed from your fingers as slowly and tantalisingly as she had put them on, then left to head into her bedroom.

Everything was excruciatingly silent after that. You turned off the washroom light and stood in the dark hallway, your eyes darting between your bedroom and the other as you wrung your nightgown between your fingers. Taking your bottom lip between your teeth painfully, you took shaky steps forward into Wanda’s and your dad’s bedroom. Your father was sleeping soundly in his bed, shrouded by dark shadows as you crept into the room’s washroom.

Wanda was brushing her hair when you stepped into the washroom. She turned her head to look at you, her eyes running down your body now that she had her first glimpse at you wearing the dress she had bought for you. “What is it, darling?” she asked before looking back over to the mirror. She was wearing a wine red silk slip. You had seen her wear this one before. It wasn’t tight-fitting, but the way the garment fell over the curve of her perfect ass was hard to pull your eyes away from.

You approached her and wrapped your hands around her forearm gently, tugging lightly. “Can you sleep with me tonight, mama?” you requested before resting your cheek on her shoulder and watching her brush through her long hair. She smelled so good. Wanda had slipped into your bed before, the first time being when you had been stressing over an exam. She was holding you against her as you cried, and before you knew it, you had fallen asleep in her arms. After that, it had become a habit for you to ball up in her arms on some overwhelming days, laying your head against her chest as the two of you cuddled together in your bed.

Uttering out a soft ‘mama’ was all that Wanda often needed to be convinced to fall asleep with you, but tonight, she was stubborn. You must have sincerely offended her when you didn’t come home.

“No, baby. Not tonight,” she told you, putting her brush down and twisting open a translucent royal blue case of white cream that she rubbed into her face with her fingertips, then repeating the same motions down her neck. You watched her slender fingers run across her taut skin, the smell of her facial cream making you all the more sleepy. It was always Wanda’s mildly sweet scent that helped you fall asleep when her arms were wrapped around you during thunderstorms. It was also the pressure of her hold, possessive and ever tight. Her soft breathing as she exhaled against your shoulder as she slept. You never realised how dependent you were on her, how vulnerable you were when you were with her.

You tugged on her arm. “Please? I’m sorry for being bad. I just want to spend time with you. Please?” you pleaded, on the tips of your toes as you whined into her ear, watching her expression as she continued with her nighttime routine. You twirled a soft lock of Wanda’s long hair around your finger. “Please?”

Wanda exhaled through her nose and you lifted your head from your shoulder to look at her face. She uttered out a resentful, “Fine.” You wrapped your arms around her shoulders and bounced against her excitedly. Wanda shushed you quickly and you shrunk against her, eyes on her accusational expression and sharp gaze. She was still angry at you, after all, and you were behaving carelessly with your father still sleeping in the other room.

With both your arms dependently wrapped around Wanda’s right upper arm, she led the both of you out of the washroom, turning off the light and stepping out. You ducked your head beyond her shoulder as you crept across the bedroom with her. Both you and your stepmother padded across the room, although she seemed much more nonchalant about it. How many times had she had to do this, you wondered- leave her husband’s side to join you in your bedroom?

Still trailing behind her with your arms wrapped around one of your stepmother’s, she led you into your bedroom and closed your door. You removed your hold from around her gingerly as she shut your bedroom light off, one pretty dim light on your nightstand illuminating your bedroom with warm brilliance. Shuffling against your bedroom floor quickened as you sped-walked to your stepmother and wrapped your arms around her from behind.

“Are you drunk, malysh?” Wanda asked you as she leaned over to pull the blanket of your bed back.

You buried your face in her hair. “No,” you lied.

Your stepmother only hummed sceptically in response. She straightened and allowed you to slip into your bed first. You took Wanda’s hand and tugged her in bed with you. She let you pull her in, her sweet scent gusting against you as she moved in beside you. You wrapped your arms around her immediately while Wanda pulled your blankets over both of you.

“Mommy,” you uttered out happily against her chest. After Wanda reached up to turn off the lamp by your nightstand and got herself settled with her arms around you, you looked up, your head laying between the valley of her breasts. “I’m sorry for making you mad. I just got caught up in the party, mama. I didn’t mean to make you upset.”

A hand raised to the back of your head, scratching at your scalp soothingly. “I like to hear you apologise, sweetheart. You’re so cute with those pretty words coming out of your mouth,” she told you, a soft, proud smile beaming down at you. “I don’t want to see you disobeying me again.”

You shook your head. “I won’t,” you promised confidently. When Wanda told you she forgives you, you reached up to rest your head on her shoulder, your hair tickling her neck as you hugged yourself close to her.

Within half an hour, Wanda was holding you from behind, your back hugged flushed against the front of her body as you slept soundly in her hold. After some amount of time, you groaned softly as you began to wake up, eyes fluttering open at the rapid movement behind you.

“Yes!” Wanda hissed out, her breath ragged and her movement tremulous as you felt her jerk behind you, the mattress dipping uncomfortably. Your heartbeat quickened without reason as you listened to your stepmother’s exclamations.

You tried to shut your eyes, to sleep through whatever it was that was happening behind you and never bring it up again, but it was impossible to ignore, much less fall asleep during it.

“That feels so good, puppy. Ah! My pussy is so wet for you,” she mumbled as you listened to the filthy squelching of her pussy. Your chest tightened as the realisation set in that your stepmother was masturbating right behind you, her fingers fucking in and out of her tight cunt as her arm was pressed up against your back. “Y/N, I love how you fuck me,” Wanda groaned, her slip hiked up to her hips and her legs parted.

Your name, as you have heard her say hundreds of times before, was being moaned from beyond her lips as her fingers were buried deep inside of her pussy. You felt pressure build between your thighs the longer you listened to your stepmother masturbate. You debated whether or not it would be better to shift slightly, signalling to Wanda that you had woken up. Would she stop touching herself if you did? Would she continue without a second thought?

Not ready to find the answer, you laid still, silencing your shaky breaths. You wondered how many other times Wanda had masturbated behind you while you were sleeping soundly.

Unbeknownst to you, Wanda’s head was lolled to the side, watching your body tremble as you willed everything in you not to squeeze your thighs together and out at the very feeling that listening to your stepmother fuck her pussy planted within you. She was sure to curl her fingers, parting her digits inside of her so you could hear how wet she was for you.

When she finally reached her hilt, her back arched from the bed, an unstrained cry leaving her as her orgasm washed over her in heavy ripples. You screwed your eyes together tightly at her uninhibited moans and desperate squeals. Her body fell back onto the bed as she panted. It didn’t take long for her to wrap her arm around your waist again, pulling you against her like you had been before. Wanda kissed your shoulder and then your neck, taking your earlobe between her lips and sucking softly. Her hand reached up to grope your breast, kneading her warm palm against you. Her glistening fingers, coated with her juices, tugged at your erect nipple before she pulled your ass against her hips.

Your thighs squeezed together inadvertently and Wanda smirked against your neck before burying her nose in your soft hair and closing her eyes again. As you took in the indistinct scent of Wanda’s pussy, you felt as if though you were embraced by your stepmother in a way you hadn’t ever been before, and you fell asleep once more. Even if she had stuck her own fingers in your cunt, fucking you while you slept, you’d still be able to fall asleep in her arms. You loved your stepmother, and you’d need her no matter what she did.

You woke up without her the next morning, which you realised when you expected to lean back into her warm body and ended up laying back onto an otherwise empty bed. The smell of fresh breakfast filled your room, the soft sizzle of the kitchen stove from downstairs reaching your ears. With an urge to wear your pretty nightgown Wanda had bought you in front of her only, you changed into different clothes before you made your way to the kitchen downstairs.

Wanda was standing in front of the stove, spatula in hand, the smell of bacon and eggs growing stronger as you stepped further into the kitchen. Your father noticed you first with an overjoyous, “Y/N! Good morning!” Your stepmother turned at the mention of your name, a smile forming on her pink lips at the sight of you.

“Good morning, Y/N,” she greeted, her voice smooth as nectar and just as sweet. Her dark brown hair was tied up, stray strands falling down the back of her neck and around her face. She was also wearing different clothes- a loose shirt with black yoga pants. Her attention was turned back to the breakfast on the pan in front of her before recollections of last night came flooding back to you, prompting you to redirect your focus onto something else.

After mumbling out a ‘Good morning,’ in response, your father returned to Wanda’s side, wrapping a hand around her hips and lifting up an empty plate for her to place the freshly cooked eggs on. They looked okay for each other. They always have. A demure couple, ordinary and traditional. Maybe you could rid yourself of the memories from last night, to forget it had ever happened and continue your relationship with Wanda as it had always been.

But the way your name had left her that night. It was your name, not his. Your name in its entirety, every rise and fall of her tongue as she pronounced it without equivocation, without hesitation. Even in trying your hardest to forget what had happened, to chalk it all up to some hallucination, the feeling that bloomed in your chest as you recalled the way Wanda had uttered it out in the way that she did was indelible. The feeling that your name had only ever been composed to exist for Wanda Maximoff to call it out in the dead of the night, her fingers deep inside herself as she allowed her mind to be encapsulated by the thought of you.

You took a seat at the dining table and your dad began placing down the glasses and utensils while Wanda set the plates up. She made your eggs how you liked them, scrambled with peppers and herbs. She came with your plate first, reaching over your shoulder and placing your breakfast on the placemat in front of you. A soft kiss was pressed to your temple before she pulled away to get the other plates, leaving you with shivers running up your body at her gesture.

You poured yourself a glass of water to keep yourself occupied as Wanda prepared the table. She squeezed her husband’s shoulder gently before taking a seat beside you.

“Wanda tells me you had quite the nightmare last night,” your dad noted aloud as he sprinkled salt onto his eggs.

Your teeth bit down on the inside of your cheek to restrain the satisfied moan that you nearly let out as you chewed a forkful of scrambled eggs. Wanda was a great cook. You only had to tell her how you preferred your food once for her to remember it for every home-cooked meal afterwards. “I did, a little,” you answered briefly.

A hand was placed on your knee under the table. When Wanda looked over at you, eyes crinkling slightly with a sweet smile, you knew it was hers.

“I miss when your stepmother hadn’t yet taken my place as your favourite parent,” your father teased. But neither you or your stepmother were listening to him.

Your eyes were focused on the dish in front of you, forking scrambled eggs and bacon into your mouth as modestly as you could with your stepmother’s hand still on your knee, slowly inching up your thigh. She squeezed your upper thigh and laughed richly.

“Y/N’s just a mommy’s girl. So sweet to me,” Wanda giggled, running her hand up and down your clothed thigh. She squeezed harshly suddenly, forcing your eyes to dart up to her. You were greeted with one of her saccharine smiles, eyebrows furrowed with condescending sympathy. “Isn’t that right?”

You nodded silently and went back to eating your breakfast. Pleased with your submission to her, Wanda ceased teasing you for the rest of breakfast apart from her hand being placed on your upper thigh throughout the entirety of the meal.

Wanda was upstairs with your father when breakfast was over, helping him get ready for his late-night shift. For the first time, you wondered what they might be doing, why Wanda had to stay up there with him for so long while he was doing something as trivial as getting ready for work. He was a grown man, wasn’t he? He didn’t need her help.

During your sudden spark of debilitating spite, the knife you were washing slipped from your fingers, nearly slicing the heel of your hand before you recoiled suddenly. Your elbows came into contact with something firm and with one swift movement, Wanda’s arms were wrapped around your waist. She pulled you into her, humming satisfiedly into your ear. You tensed, your shoulders raising to your ears before Wanda pressed a kiss to the side of your head.

“Did you enjoy breakfast?” she asked you, her voice a low seductive purr despite simply asking about a meal you shared.

You nodded and Wanda laughed, seemingly quite pleased with your answer. Wanda was a talented cook. She baked on the weekends, catered for special events, and cooked for every meal whenever she was home. She remembered your every preference for every dish, your favourite colours for icing she would decorate your desserts with. Everything Wanda touched in the kitchen would turn into something as delicious as it was beautiful.

You had cooked with your stepmother a handful of times, and it was no less than enchanting; the closest the real world would ever have to real sorcery. You made many of your favourite dishes, as Wanda had insisted you do together, along with several others she believed you would love, which you did. There was something so intimate about spending time with your stepmother, who asked things to have your answers, who listened to what you said to remember each word, who took the time to be with you.

“Wanda…” you whimpered, inhaling sharply as you settled your nerves.

Wanda loosened her hold around your waist to tip her head to the side and meet your eyes with hers as she continued to hug you from behind. “What is it, zaya?” she asked.

Zaya. It meant ‘little rabbit’ in Russian. Wanda told you what it meant when she used the term while picking you up from campus one afternoon. You shrunk in her arms, melting in her hold at the pet name.

You twisted your lips around, directing your focus on the pressurised stream of the hot tap water as you washed the dishes. You had a few glasses left to wash, and you knew you wouldn’t have anything else to distract yourself with once you finished. You tried to get your words out, but you were never the confrontational kind. “Last night-”

Wanda’s eyebrows arched upwards. “Yes?”

“Last night, um… I thought you were… But it could’ve been my mistake,” you hesitated, scrubbing at the rim of one glass with the soapy sponge for far longer than necessary.

“Use your words like a big girl, Y/N,” your stepmother reprimanded. Her hold on your waist tightened as she ran her hands down your sides supportively until her hands were on your hips. She sometimes spoke to you like this, as if you were simply a child in need of discipline. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t like it. Even a little.

After rinsing the last glass, you placed it on the rack by the sink and dried your hands. “I sort of- I woke up in the middle of the night last night and I thought you were…”

Wanda laid her head on your shoulder, looking up at you. “You thought I was what, sweetheart?” she asked you.

You laid your hands on the counter, playing with your fingers. You avoided eye contact with her, knowing that if you had met her eyes, you wouldn’t be able to find words within you to say anything at all. “Thought you were doing something weird,” you replied.

“Weird?” Wanda repeated with a chuckle. With her hands still on your hips, she spun you around so you were facing her, your lower back pressing into the sink. “What do you mean, moya lyubov?” She stared at you for a few moments, her thumb rubbing against your hip. Her eyebrows furrowed together and her head tipped to the side curiously. “You thought I was doing something… dirty?”

Your face flushed and you looked away from her, the pressure of her hands on your hips suddenly overbearing as you squirmed between her and the counter. Wanda pushed herself against you, confining you in your spot.

“Oh, is that it?” your stepmother purred, eyebrows quirked upwards.

On the tips of your toes, you tried looking over Wanda’s shoulder at the staircase in the hallway, the idea of your father coming down to see his wife pressed up against his daughter looming over you dangerously. What you were doing with her wasn’t wrong, was it? But you felt so worried about being caught.

Wanda cupped your cheek with her hand, bringing your attention back to her. “I would never take advantage of you like that, baby,” she cooed. She pulled your head against her chest. Her reaction was overly comforting perhaps, but you closed your eyes anyways, letting your stepmother pet your hair and kiss the top of your head. “It was just a bad dream, sweetheart,” Wanda murmured, “just a dream.”

Your stepmother spent the rest of the day doing errands after she dropped off your father at work. The house was barren and deafeningly silent while you were home alone all day without Wanda; a stark and lonely transition from the night and breakfast you had spent together.

Before she had left, Wanda reminded you that you weren’t allowed to have friends over or leave the house as punishment for your behaviour last night. When your stepmother took your chin in her fingers and pressed a kiss to your forehead before she left, you accepted that you had to atone for what you had done. You wanted to make it up to her.

You could only hope that Wanda came home as soon as she could.

At around five in the evening, you sped down the stairs after you heard the doorbell ring. You opened the front door to see Wanda holding several grocery bags, and you took a few into each of your hands.

“Thank you, sweetheart,” Wanda said behind you as she locked the front door and followed behind you to the kitchen. You placed the bags beside hers on the kitchen counters.

“Have you been good?” she asked you, taking your chin in her hand and rubbing her thumb against the corner of your mouth. You nodded with a proud smile. “You didn’t have anyone over, darling? And you didn’t leave the house?” You shook your head. Wanda smiled and pulled you in for a hug. “That’s my good girl.” She kissed the top of your head and spoke again, “I bought condensed milk so we can make kartoshkas this weekend.”

Along with making your favourite dishes, Wanda had introduced you to some meals and desserts she had as a child in Russia. You found that your stepmother was more eager to share things she held dear with you rather than with her own husband, especially when it came to her life in her home country before she immigrated to America.

One afternoon while you were making blinis with her, she told you stories of her life with her late parents and twin brother for hours. She hadn’t visited Russia in years, and she promised when she got the chance to, she would bring you to see her hometown, all the places she’d been missing, the best restaurants and places to sightsee. Your father wasn’t brought up once during the conversation.

Once you put away the groceries, Wanda was pouring herself a glass of merlot while you were warming milk up for your hot chocolate. What you had planned that night was a long evening of studying and catching up on assignments until your stepmother suggested something otherwise.

“Do you want to have that movie night we were planning for last night, detka?” she asked you, lifting her wine glass up to her lips to take a sip.

Nearly burning yourself on the hot mug as your eyes found your stepmother’s, you choked out, “We should.”

Wanda hummed in agreement as her eyes narrowed slightly, watching you closely while you stirred in a few spoonfuls of hot chocolate powder into your hot milk. You headed into the living room first, Wanda trailing behind you, her eyes falling to your ass as you walked ahead of her. She sat by you when you took a seat on the couch and she turned on the television with the remote. “What are you interested in watching tonight, moya lyubov?”

My love. You searched up that definition on your own. You leaned against Wanda and a sudden warmth blossomed in your chest. She wrapped her arm around your shoulders, pulling you close against her so you were tucked against her chest, your mug of hot chocolate balancing in your lap.

“Practical Magic?” you suggested, looking up at her with your cheek squished against her shoulder.

Wanda laughed and you heard her flick through the movies on the television while you continued to look up at her, her eyes crinkling as she laughed. “Good choice, zaya,” she complimented, making you blush and look down to take a drink of your hot chocolate.

When the movie was put on, Wanda set the remote down and wrapped both of her arms around your shoulders. She squeezed you and kissed your forehead. A giggle escaped you and Wanda looked down to grin at your scrunched up nose. She pressed another kiss onto your forehead and her hold on you relaxed before taking her wine glass from off the coffee table to take a sip of it. She rested it on her knee, her fingers wrapped around the glass delicately.

“I’m so glad we could spend this time together, sweetheart,” she told you. You conceded immediately, squirming in your spot as you moved in closer to your stepmother.

An hour into the movie, Wanda placed her second half-empty wine glass on the coffee table along with your mug. She pressed a kiss to the side of your head and placed her hands on your hips. “Come sit on mommy's lap, baby,” Wanda told you, pulling you up before you could comply.

When you were settled on her lap, Wanda’s hands squeezed your hips, then ran down your legs gently. Your hips shifted atop of her when pressure grew uncomfortably between your thighs. “Comfortable, malyshka?” she asked you. Your shoulders raised to your ears at the proximity of her lips to your ear and Wanda kissed your neck in attempts to soothe you, which only tensed you further. Her hands ran up your sides.

“Relax, baby. It’s just me, right?” she cooed into your ear. “Just mommy.”

You nodded, taking in a breath as you leaned back. Your head laid against her shoulder and Wanda smiled.

“That’s right,” she purred. Her hands came dangerously close to your breasts before she wrapped her arms around your waist.

After several minutes of listening to Wanda’s steady, quiet breaths while you watched the movie, her hands suddenly groped your breasts, causing you to gasp and attempt to sit up. Rather roughly, she pulled you back down against her, hushing you softly.

“Just be good and let me play with your pretty tits, baby,” Wanda said, making your entire body freeze as you tried to process the wild throbbing of your cunt while your hips struggled to restrain their bucking, your clit craving friction. “Watch your movie.”

Your nipples were pinched abruptly, a moan leaving you as Wanda tugged at them teasingly. She leaned down, her lips finding your neck as she began peppering sloppy kisses up your skin. Your hips became unrestrained as you started humping your stepmother’s lap, desperate for the icky feeling in your pussy to go away. A hard bulge pressed into your ass when Wanda’s hips bucked upwards, making you whimper.

“Mama, this feels weird,” you mewled as you continued to hump against her leg, her strap pressing into your clit and drawing out moans from you.

Wanda started trailing her kisses up your jaw before she started nipping at your skin, her tongue darting out to run flush up your cheek. “Oh, I know, baby,” she whispered. “But all mommies do this. It’s normal.”

She always knew how to convince you. You shut your eyes, moaning out helplessly as your stepmother continued to grope your breasts and pinch your erect nipples. Her hands slipped under your shirt, her fingers running up your bare stomach before taking your breasts with her hands again. You gasped at the feeling of her hands against you, your nipples pressed up against her palms as she massaged you harshly. Your head lolled to the side, moaning out into Wanda’s chest as you tried to hide the blush of your cheeks.

You’ve been wiggling uncomfortably on top of her strap for the last few minutes of the movie, but mommy kept convincing you to just relax. You weren’t sure what it was that you were humping down on, but you didn’t think much about it while you were rubbing your icky parts over it.

She ran her hands down your arms and you assumed, with a pout, that she was just going to stop touching you all at once, but without warning, Wanda pulled your sweatpants down and pulled your panties to the side, then her yoga pants down to her thighs. The action was so swift that your dumb little bimbo brain could barely register that it was happening until Wanda pushed her cock into your hole.

You cried out, throwing your head back to lay on Wanda’s shoulder as your back arched, simultaneously pulling away from the contact and grinding down into her lap. Her hands were placed on your hips, the heels of her hands pressing into your lower back as she lifted you up and down her strap, each impact grinding the strap’s base into her clit.

Through soft grunts, Wanda husked out into your ear, “Don't fight me, baby. Just be good and let mommy use your tight little pussy.”

You willed everything in you to be mommy’s good girl and take her cock, but you were hanging off the precipice of pain and pleasure, gratification seemingly only reaching you quicker the more you moaned out. Your walls parted as Wanda’s cock slid in and out of you, each buck of her hips into your ass meeting no resistance despite the painful stretching within you as you slowly became accustomed to your stepmother’s size.

The curious thought of where she might’ve kept something like this while sharing the same room with your father was short-lived when Wanda’s hands came up to pull your shirt over your head. Her bucking hips and your arched back maintained the rhythm of the thrusts as your nipples hardened in the living room’s air.

Wanda watched your breasts bounce with each of her thrusts, the impact of fucking her stepdaughter observable in your rhythmic squeals and moans as her cock penetrated your tight cunt. Her hands squeezed your breasts, the harshness of her grip making you whimper.

You couldn’t have ever guessed Wanda would be this rough, even in your deepest of fantasies where your stepmother was fucking you from behind with languid thrusts of her hips. Even in the way her fingernails scratched at the sides of your breasts while she pumped her thick cock into your wet hole, your heart swelled at being Wanda’s only girl. Her pretty, good girl sitting in her lap getting fucked stupid. She loved you with her arms wrapped around you while you slept, while she cooked with you, while her cock was eight inches in your pussy while her teeth sunk into your neck deep enough to bruise.

Mommy loved you.

“My baby is so pretty,” Wanda grunted against your cheek, her breath warm and smelling of merlot. You were completely naked in her lap, your panties hanging loosely around your ankle. Your sweatpants pooled at the foot of the couch, your shirt thrown somewhere across the living room. Wanda couldn’t get enough of the idea of her agreeable little girl bouncing on her cock as her hands fumbled while holding herself up. You were trying to steady yourself with your arms reached back and your hands on your hips.

You whimpered out, “Thank you, mommy.” You felt all warm being complimented by your stepmother. It felt so good to be framed through her eyes, being her pretty agreeable slut just because she wanted you to be. You supposed that if Wanda had bent you over the kitchen table earlier, groceries tumbling to the floor as she pulled your pants down while she spread your pussy lips apart before forcing her cock into your tight pink cunt, you would’ve let her. You would’ve let her bury her fingers in your hole at breakfast under the table, sit her wet pussy on your face while you slept- anything to see her gratified grin as she was able to make you hers in a way no one else could.

Wanda let go of one of your breasts, her hand running down your stomach until her fingers made contact with your clit. Your back arched, a cry leaving you the moment she pressed the pads of her fingers into your swollen nub. With your head having fallen back onto her shoulder, Wanda leaned down to capture your lips with hers. Although she had pecked your lips a handful of times in your sleep, the allure and fascination of kissing you was alike to yours, as for you, this was your first kiss with her. You straightened, trying to bring yourself as close to her as possible.

Her tongue pushed past your lips, exploring your mouth as muffled moans left you. She groaned into your mouth as your hips began jerking forward helplessly once her fingers found a circular rhythm against your clit, causing the base of her strap to grind against her own bundle of nerves harshly.

She pulled away from the kiss and looked down at your face with a proud smile as she watched screwed-shut eyes, your nose scrunched up as your mouth hung open, melodious moans spilling from beyond your soft lips.

“Zaya…” Wanda purred. You hummed shakily in response, opening your eyes slightly to meet a deep moldavite stare as Wanda looked down at you. “I’ve dreamt of fucking this tight little cunt for years, even before I married your father,” she confessed, her hips bucking up into your sore ass with increasing vigour the more she delved into her lewd divulgence, which made it increasingly difficult to keep your eyes open.

Her hand switched breasts and took your nipple between her thumb and forefinger before pinching down and tugging at it. You squirmed and groaned, your teeth clenched as your hips ground down side to side, whimpering at the way Wanda’s cock spread your walls apart even further. “With these tits, you must’ve known that it was only a matter of time until mommy slid her cock in your little pussy, right?” she cooed, her words condescending and sickly sweet as she pounded into you.

You hadn’t known that your stepmother was going to fuck you, but you’d be lying if you said you hadn’t been anticipating it somewhere within you. You’d wake up sometimes with your inner thighs slick with your sticky juices, having dreamt of being bent over and fucked by your stepmother while you slept. But ever since last night, you’d been curious about whether or not Wanda had ever had a part in how icky you woke up feeling sometimes.

Wanda pushed your hips up suddenly to slip her cock out of you. You groaned uncomfortably as you felt empty without her strap in you. Her fingers slipped down from your clit, running through your sopping folds to push before pushing them into your hole. Wanda laughed when your walls clenched around her fingers, your hips immediately grinding down on her hand as you desperately craved more friction from her.

She was quick to appease; the heel of her hand was pressed against your clit to allow her fingers more leverage to fuck into you. You pulled away instinctively at the sudden rough contact against your clit, but Wanda pinched your nipple again, making you fall back down into her lap.

“Does this feel familiar, puppy?” she asked you, a grin pulling at her lips.

You shook your head immediately. “No, mommy,” you insisted. She was asking if you had ever been fucked like this by anyone else, wasn’t she?

Wanda’s eyebrows furrowed together in feigned curiosity. “No? Mommy’s fingers fucking your pretty hole doesn’t feel familiar to you?”

Your eyes fluttered open and you tried your hardest to maintain eye contact with her while you tried to decipher her expression. Her knowing gaze, the small smile on her soft lips. Your eyebrows stitched together as you nearly attained clear realisation before Wanda curled her fingers inside of you, making your eyes shut again as you moaned out.

Wanda hummed, leaning down to nip at your earlobe and press wet kisses to your neck. “That’s right, baby,” she said after catching a glimpse of your expression. “It hurts my feelings that you barely remember your special times with mommy,” murmured Wanda. She kissed your cheek.

You had never seen yourself like this. You nearly couldn’t even recognise yourself while you were crying out for Wanda, your pussy so sloppy around her that both of you could hear every entry of her fingers into your tight hole.

“But you remember a little now, don’t you?” Wanda spoke into your ear. “How I slid my hand through your pretty thighs while you slept before pushing my fingers into your cunt?” You reflected on it through your clouded mind; your sticky parts when you woke up in the morning, the throbbing of your hole even after having been asleep for hours. “And don’t try and pretend you didn’t like it, malysh. If you really didn’t like the way mommy licked your pussy in your sleep, you wouldn’t have came as much as you did. Your cute little moans gave it away, too.”

“Mama…” you whimpered out, suddenly overcome by the warm idea of being Wanda’s even in your sleep. Your cheeks flushed and you turned your head to lay against her chest.

Your stepmother watched as you became embarrassed, finding consolation in burying your face in her chest. “You taste so sweet, don’t you know that, sweetheart?” she pressed on, amused by the way your flushed cheeks peeked out even as you tried your hardest to bury your humiliation. With her hand that had been groping at your breast, she cupped your cheek, forcing you to look up at her with your glassed over eyes and flushed cheeks from the overwhelming jumble of pleasure and humiliation that filled your empty head. Wanda thought you were so cute when you looked like that.

“Why are you embarrassed, baby?” she asked, her fingers’ speed not ceasing for a moment, and if anything, they were quickening. It seemed that Wanda was purposely trying to ask you such loaded questions while being all too aware of how difficult it was for you to answer them. “It’s just me. I love you more than anyone. You don’t have to be all shy around mommy.” Her arm rounded your shoulders, pulling your body against hers. Her gestures were swift and self-assured while you were a mewling mess on her lap, your juices trickling down to Wanda’s wrist and undoubtedly ruining her yoga pants.

You slurred out an apology and your attempt at speaking decently despite being filled by three of Wanda’s fingers pleased her.

“Give mommy a kiss, detka.”

You attempted to lean up and kiss her, but your frail body could barely hold yourself up largely due to how Wanda purposely pushed the heel of her hand into your clit when you were demanded to do things like answer her questions or move your body on your own. Wanda leaned down halfway to meet you and you whimpered into her mouth, struggling to keep yourself from falling back down against her chest simply.

Wanda’s fingers quickened once more. Not only were her fingers picking up speed, but the palm of her hand began pounding against your cunt as she fucked your hole ceaselessly. You had no choice but to fall back down against her chest, your body physically recoiling from the harsh impact against your pussy, but Wanda always caught up with you, disallowing you to part from her contact.

She put her hand on your shoulder unexpectedly and flipped you over, her fingers leaving your cunt momentarily. You were laying over her lap, your ass sticking up in the air. You squirmed, pulling yourself up into your elbows to sit up and reposition yourself from the humiliating pose. Wanda’s hand was suddenly placed against your upper back, the heel of her hand pressing painfully into your spine so you fell forward, your bare breasts pushed flush against the couch cushion.

Three fingers slammed back into your cunt with one swift moment, Wanda’s knuckles coming into painful contact with your folds. You wailed at the contact and gripped the edge of the couch with your hand. You could hear Wanda chuckling cruelly at your cries behind you as her fingers picked up speed, quicker than it had before. Her fingers were twisting inside of you as she entered you, curling periodically as pulled out and making you push your ass back into her hand while she brushed over your special spot deep inside your cunt.

“You’re such a fucking slut,” Wanda spat, her other hand coming down on your ass, making you flinch and try to pull back from her. She put her hand on your hip, digging her fingernails into your skin and pulling you back onto her lap. “My poor, innocent girl pretending her worthless hole can’t take it, but look at this, hm?”

Her fingers sped up momentarily to emphasise the sloshing of your pussy as she fucked you with her fingers.

“What do you think that means, puppy?” your stepmother inquired, looking over at your expression, face reddened and your eyes screwed shut as you moaned, unrelenting, like the whore you were, your body finally being put to use with your pussy being stuffed with mommy’s fingers. When you didn’t respond, Wanda spoke again, “It means you’re a filthy little bitch who likes to get her pussy fucked. I thought you were my innocent little girl, but I suppose I was wrong.”

You shook your head in immediate protest. “No, mommy,” you whimpered, opening your eyes to look back at Wanda. You continued to whine, “I’m your good girl. I’m… I am!”

Wanda raised her hand to interlace her fingers with your hair, scratching your scalp soothingly; a stark contrast from the way she was fucking you with her other hand. “Oh, baby, hush now. I believe you,” she told you, her gaze soft as she looked down at your face pressed down against the couch.

“I wanna prove it to you, mama,” you insisted.

Wanda hummed, reaching her other hand to tuck between your thighs and rub at your clit. “Then cum for me, puppy,” she answered.

You pushed your ass back into Wanda’s hand and she reciprocated by pounding into you ever rougher, making you whimper helplessly as you gave yourself to your stepmother completely. You were entirely at her mercy, and you would be her good girl by letting her do whatever you felt like, and happily, you welcomed it. You had never felt more special when you were making mommy’s fingers all sticky with your cunt juices as much as you did tucking your face into the crook of her neck while you fell asleep in her arms.

Her other hand circled against your sensitive nub harshly, and despite your whining and the way your body squirmed on Wanda’s lap, you continued to take her fingers like the perfect girl you were.

You mewled, screwing your eyes together tightly as you felt yourself closing in on your climax. “Mommy, I feel weird,” you whimpered. Wanda watched as you began riding her fingers, your hips grinding forwards and backwards shakily.

“I know you do, malyshka,” Wanda comforted as your hips began to thrash backwards. To both her surprise and thrill, you reached back and placed both your hands on either side of your ass. Fingers dug into your skin painfully as you pulled your pussy’s folds apart, allowing your stepmother more room to finger you harshly. With the stretch, more of your cunt became exposed to Wanda, causing her to moan out at the sight. She leaned down and ran her tongue down the sides of your stretched out hole. “Cum for mommy, baby. Make me proud,” she said against your pussy.

You inched closer to your hilt, the coil in your lower stomach growing ever tighter, and tighter, until it finally snapped, the feeling of Wanda’s dirty words being spoken out against your cunt helping you get there. A prolonged cry escaped from deep inside you and Wanda grinned, pressing a kiss to your ass as your soft walls clenched around her fingers. Your hands tightened their grips around your ass, your body tensing harshly as your orgasm pushed through you in harsh waves. Wanda continued to finger you, albeit slower, as you came down from your high, and once you did, she slipped out of you carefully, sticky ropes of your juices connecting to her hand as she rubbed your ass soothingly.

You were panting against the couch, your body shaking with occasional tremors as your orgasm’s last waves crashed against you. Your hands were limp by your hips, fingers twitching and your body rising and falling irregularly with your trembling breaths.

“How are you feeling, sweetness?” Wanda asked, leaning to the side so she could kiss your cheek. You nodded, mumbling out something imperceptible. She laughed and raised her hand to hook a finger under your chin, tipping your head to the side to kiss your lips. The faint flavour of your pussy coated the kiss.

You closed your eyes for what felt like several seconds before you were pushed forward against the couch, your ass being stuck up further in the air. Wanda hands were on your waist. “Mama…?” you mumbled, struggling to open your eyes to look back at her. “What are you doing?”

Your stepmother only hushed you in response, her hands smoothing over your ass for a moment before her hands gripped your hips and pulled you against her. Her cock was thrusted into your swollen hole, making you cry out and jerk your body forward, desperate to soothe yourself from the sudden sharp pain. But Wanda was faster, her fingers digging into the hollow spaces by your hips to pull you back into her.

“Ah! Mommy, stop! It hurts, that’s too much!” you pleaded, reaching back to push her hips away. The orgasm Wanda had given you was the first in quite awhile, and the strongest you’d ever had, and she had only been using her fingers.

Wanda leaned forward so her front was cocooning your back, the contact making you feel the slick coat of sweat that had enveloped your body. “I thought you wanted to prove to mommy what a good girl you are,” she reminded you. Her hips had begun to slow to allow you to answer her properly. She reached one of her hands up to move your hair to your other shoulder, allowing her to see your fatigued expression.

You hesitated, “Y-Yes, but-”

“Yes, but what?” Wanda hissed, suddenly impatient as she watched you struggle to form words. “Suddenly you don’t want to be my good girl?” She cupped your cheek, running her thumb over your cheekbone.

“No! I want to-”

“Then let me fuck your pussy the way I want to.”

Wanda watched you a little while longer as you nodded. She softened at your obedience and kissed you. “That’s right. Mommy loves you so much, detka,” she whispered against your lips. You had been told by your stepmother that she loved you countless times before, but it held a different weight now. You smiled into the kiss, happy to be hers.

“I love you too, mommy.” You saw a flash of Wanda’s pretty smile before she straightened and positioned her hips against your ass again.

Her thrusts picked up speed. The pressure of having her cock being buried deep within you was completely different from the feeling of her fingers. Wanda took your hand with hers, placing it on your ass as she continued to use the leverage to fuck you against her strap. She squeezed your hand supportively and tried your best to squeeze back in response.

Wanda’s moans were louder and more frequent than before, and you knew she was grinding her clit against her strap’s harness as she fucked you. The realisation made you all the more wet thinking about how she was just using you as an object to get herself off. “You feel so tight, malyshka,” she told you, her head thrown back as she fucked into your pussy, hands still on your hips.

The sensitive pain that had been shooting up your body was long dissipated into white-hot pleasure, as if your entire body was aflame, every inch of your skin incandescent as you lay limp, every thought you could ever think and anything you could ever feel being placed in Wanda’s hands. It was her authority that rained upon you, her very word that was, and would forever be, your law.

“I’m the only one who’s ever allowed to touch this pussy,” Wanda said. Her hand rounded your hip to rub her fingers against your clit. “Do you understand, Y/N? Repeat it to me.”

You groaned, willing everything in you to answer her. Several seconds was too long of a response time. Wanda slapped her hand down against your ass, making you yelp and jerk forward. She brought you back up to her, the impact of being pressed back down against her hips propelled you closer to your second orgasm. Wanda must’ve caught on because she started thrusting faster, her fingers’ contact against your clit becoming harsher. “You’re the only one allowed to touch my pussy,” you whimpered out finally, a proud chuckle coming from the woman behind you. “Mama, please…”

She squeezed your hand. “Oh, my sweet girl. What is it?” she asked. Although her words were indicative of concern, the way she patronised you was all too audible, and the way she got off on it was even more evident.

“Gonna cum again, mommy,” you cried. You buried your face into the couch cushion, your forehead pressed against the soft fabric. Opening your eyes, you could see Wanda’s knees from between your thighs and the hard work she was putting into fucking you. To think she cared so much about making you feel good made your head all fuzzy and warm.

“You are?” Wanda questioned, her tone alike to that of a preschool teacher talking to a child as they feigned interest in their droning. One of her hands was placed on your thigh, lifting your leg up as her other hand let you lay down onto the couch carefully so your stomach was flush against it. Your body was limp, simply a marionette at the feet of its puppeteer as Wanda turned you around so you were on your back. She let your other leg down, her actions careful so her cock didn’t accidentally slip out of you.

Your arms raised to your stepmother and she placed a hand by your head to lower herself down to your face. You kissed her as if it was an inherent desire to feel her soft lips against yours when she was this close to your face. Wanda parted from your lips to pepper kisses across your collarbone, all the while your legs lifted to press your thighs against her sides.

An erect nipple was taken into Wanda’s mouth. The feeling of her lips wrapped around you, her teeth raking down your bud carefully, forced a long moan out of you. Her hand cupped your cheek gently and you looked down to find your stepmother’s eyes piercing into yours with surprising focus despite the rapid thrusting of her hips and the maintained contact with her fingers against your clit. The sight was that of a woman you had not known before tonight, one who craved you like one did oxygen, a woman, who in desperate desire for your entire being and very soul to be one with hers, suckled at your breasts and fucked herself into your cunt. She switched breasts and licked the long stripe up the other before kissing you again.

Without uttering a single word, Wanda pressed another kiss against the shell of your ear before exhaling breathy moans and grunts against the side of your head as she grew closer to her own high.

Having not enough strength to hold yourself up any longer, your ankles rounded Wanda’s lower back as she rutted into you, crossing them to hold your legs up and pull her closer.

The familiar coil in your lower stomach tightened, stronger than it had before, painful and unbelievably pleasurable all at once. You blabbered out partially-completed words declaring your proximity to your orgasm.

The whole universe dissipated into nothingness when your stepmother whispered into your ear, “Let go.”

You clenched around Wanda’s cock as you came for the second time, every inch of your body locked into tight tremors. Your back arched into her, your breasts pressed against hers, as your orgasm lit you ablaze like Icarus’ zenith atop of the world, enveloped in your wax wings as Wanda held you close, her own orgasm coming over her.

When your body fell back into the couch, shaky pants leaving your lips, you watched your stepmother as her head was thrown back, her body arched atop of yours like a great lioness in a grand stretch. Her moans were long and raspy. Strands of her dark hair stuck to her sweat-slicked forehead. Wanda was the most beautiful woman you had ever known.

Although you had never turned to watch her, what was above you now was wildly different from what you had only heard last night. What used to be a creeping presence, hardly there and nearly chalked up to delusion, was now a mighty force towering above you, indelible once it bled through you and tenacious when it had chosen its target.

Wanda plummeted from her hilt, her forehead resting against yours as she caught her breath while her eyes fluttered shut. Her hands found your arms, gripping tightly. When she opened her eyes, she smiled down at you and you felt as if you had melted into the couch. “My pretty girl. So good to me,” she whispered, her voice hoarse and her throat raw. Wanda slipped her cock out from between your puffy reddened pussy lips and unfastened her strap from her hips. You heard it tumble to the living room floor.

“Can you tell me you love me again, mommy?” you asked.

Wanda’s smile widened as she lifted you onto her lap, reaching down to pick your shirt up from the floor. You raised your arms for her and she put your shirt back on. “I love you so much, puppy,” she said, pressing a kiss to your nose when your head popped out from your shirt as she pulled it down your body.

“More, please,” you requested. Your voice was so tiny, your mind all clouded by fuzzy-feeling thoughts. Your body was tired and happily used by mommy.

Your sweatpants were picked up from the floor after you watched Wanda pocket your panties slick with your icky juices. You slipped off of mommy’s lap to stand up. Wanda lowered herself to between your hips and pressed a gentle kiss just above your sensitive little princess parts. “I love you,” she uttered against your skin, looking up at you from between your thighs. The sight made you all blushy. Wanda grinned and kissed your lower stomach. You stepped into your sweatpants and Wanda pulled them up to your hips.

“All mommy’s, right?” Wanda asked after you sat back down in her lap and nuzzled your face into the crook of her neck.

“Right,” you answered proudly. “All mommy’s.”

Wanda felt you smile against her neck and she kissed your forehead, leaning forward while you hung to her like a young koala to its mother. She picked up her glass of wine, taking sips of it while she played a sitcom on the television. You snuggled closer to her, turning your head to watch with her. Your stepmother placed a hand atop your head and scratched at your scalp gently.

"I love you so much, Y/N," she said.

You’d never belong to anyone else.

#wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff smut #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x y/n #wanda x reader #marvel smut #wanda maximoff fanfiction #mommy wanda maximoff #marvel fanfiction #stepmom wanda

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skbeaumont · 1 month

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Texas Heat | Joel x Reader Series

Chapter 3 - Coffee and Confessions

Series masterlist

Chapter Summary: You get a job at a coffee shop. It just happens to be across the street from where Joel's working a construction job. Later, things heat up when Joel drops round to pick up Sarah. Rating: Teen (for now) Tags/warnings: slow burn, eventual smut, age difference (reader is 25, Joel is 37), AU! no outbreak, porn with plot, a lot of sexual tension in this chapter. Word Count: 2.8k

Taglist: @mysterialee @amyispxnk

You wake late the next morning, head filled with half-remembered dreams about warm arms and a solid, broad chest. The mid-morning sun is already streaming through the bedroom curtains, and you can hear Connie downstairs, pots and pans clashing together as she finishes making breakfast.

You’re halfway down the stairs when she appears at the bottom, clutching a torn-out sheet of note paper which she holds out to you.

“I know you mentioned you’d like to get a part time job,” she says as you reach the bottom step, “so I called around a few places. There’s a coffee shop in town who are looking for new staff. This is the number, if you’re interested.”

She hands you the paper and beckons you into the kitchen, where there are fresh eggs and toast and a stack of steaming hot pancakes. You load up your plate with food and slide onto one of the bar stools at the kitchen counter. Connie whistles as she starts washing the dishes. You’re halfway through your breakfast when she turns back to you and wags a finger as though she’s just remembered something.

“The Cuthberts are having a barbeque this weekend, for the neighbourhood,” she says, “they live a few houses down. You’re invited, of course.”

“Sounds good,” You say, immediately wondering if Joel will be there.

“They’ve got a pool, so make sure you’ve got some swimwear.” Connie adds, and, like a teenager with a crush, you can’t help the blush that settles in your cheeks at the thought of Joel in swimwear, wet hair swept back off his forehead and curling at his ears.

Trying to distract yourself, you examine the number for the café Connie gave you. The job sounds good, so when you’ve finished your breakfast, you pull out your phone and call them.

*****

Three hours later and you’re hopping off a bus in Cedar Park, trying to remember the directions Connie gave you. You find your way, eventually; the coffee shop is a couple of blocks from the bus stop. It’s a pretty nice area, sun-bleached grass lining the wide streets made up of modern shops and restaurants opposite a community college. Inside, welcomed by the dark wood floor and familiar smell of coffee, you feel instantly at home; you’ve done barista work before back in England, in between classes and during the summer.

“Aha,” a woman behind the counter says as you introduce yourself, “fresh meat.”

She’s attractive; mid-forties, maybe, with thick blonde hair tied up in a spotless bun and a pristinely made-up face. A badge on her polo shirt tells you she’s Gina, the manager. She hands you an apron and tells you to make her a coffee. A younger girl – probably twenty, twenty-one, with a name badge that says ‘Diana’ in bubble writing – gives you a grin and offers to help.

And so the rest of the afternoon passes in a blur of grinding and brewing and steaming. The café is busy throughout the day thanks to its prime position opposite the community college. You get to meet an array of students and professors, and although you feel a pang of envy as you watch younger, fresh-faced students settle themselves at tables to sit and write papers, you enjoy the routine and hum of the barista work.

You’re just finishing up when the bell above the door tinkles. Gina’s voice immediately greets the newcomer, and you almost splutter at the sudden enthusiasm lacing every one of her words, the slightly over-the-top, sickly sweet quality that has entered her previously no-nonsense tone. Curious about who is causing your new manager to turn into a simpering dolt, you look up.

It’s Joel, of course.

Joel, in his toolbelt and faded jeans and tight t-shirt. His hair is slicked back with sweat, and there are flecks of plaster on his tanned skin and splatted down his toned arms. Your heart stutters – actually stutters – as though this is a cheap cheesy romcom and he’s the romantic lead. Gina’s batting her eyelashes at him and he’s grinning lopsidedly at her, all southern charm and polite gentleman. Diana shoots you a look from where she’s cleaning tables in the corner, grinning.

Joel doesn’t see you immediately – you’re mostly hidden from his view by the coffee machine you’d been cleaning when he came in – but jealously rises up in your chest when he laughs at something Gina says, at the way he leans against the counter to talk to her, knee popped out, one hand resting on the top of his toolbelt. It’s maddeningly attractive – he’s maddeningly attractive – and you think of how he looked standing so close to you yesterday, the way the heat of his body rolled off him and his scent: wood chippings and soap and something uniquely him.

Finally, Gina stops flirting for long enough to take his order, and his eyes flick up as she passes the receipt with the coffee order to you (americano, no cream). You step out from behind the machine, smiling at him politely, and he does something of a double take.

“Hey.” You say as you crank ground coffee into the filter basket.

“Hi.” He gives you a smile – warmer than the one he offered Gina, you think smugly – and asks, “what’re you doin’ here?”

You point at the apron you’re wearing, at the handwritten name tag, “As of about three hours ago, I work here.”

“And how’s that going for you?”

It’s almost criminal how he can make such a simple, inoffensive question sound so intimate, so flirtatious.

“It picked up significantly in the last few minutes,” You say, holding his warm gaze and biting the side of your mouth to suppress a grin.

He flushes a little, caught off guard, and you push on, not wanting to leave the sentence hanging awkwardly between you, aware of Gina’s presence a few feet away, “How about you? What brings you to this side of town?”

He points vaguely behind him to where the community college is, “’m working on a project across the road at the moment. Big expansion.”

You try to eke out making the coffee for as long as you can, taking care to clean the filter after each shot fills the cup, keeping your eyes on Joel as he explains about the job. He’s easy to talk to. He asks how you’re finding the job, if you’ve done barista work before, and when you answer he really listens, leans in and keeps his eyes right on yours, like you’re the only person in the world who’s interesting. It’s dizzying and electrifying. The fact that Gina is hovering in the background – clearly keen to butt in and join the conversation but not getting a chance as Joel asks you question after question – makes it all the more intoxicating.

After several minutes you push the finished coffee across the counter to him. He wraps a hand around it, his thick fingers and large palm making the cup look tiny.

“Thanks, darlin’” He says, raising the cup to his lips and taking a sip. “I’d better head back, but I’ll see you around, I’m sure.”

“Yeah,” You say, then, remembering, ask, “oh – are you going to the Cuthbert’s barbeque this weekend?”

“S’long as I can get this plastering finished by Friday.” He replies, and then he’s taking long strides away from you, pushing the door open and stepping through it.

Immediately, Gina is all over you.

“You know him?” She asks, sidling up to you and leaning on the counter conspiratorially.

“He lives next door,” You explain, wiping down the coffee machine absentmindedly, still watching Joel’s broad back as he jogs across the road back towards the college.

“You lucky thing!” Gina exclaims. “He’s been coming in regularly the last couple of weeks, but I’ve never managed to get his name. Or his number.” She gives you an over-the-top wink with this last and you force a polite smile, wiping the milk steamer perhaps a little harder than necessary.

“Can we agree,” Diana says later that evening, as you both wind your way to the bus stop from the café, “that Gina is gagging for it.”

You laugh and Diana bumps against your shoulder, her own laugh high and clear against the hum of the traffic. It feels nice to be hanging out with someone who’s not related to you or thirteen years old or the object of an intense crush. And Diana is quick to laugh and easy to talk to. Her company makes the homesickness for your friends dull a little.

“No but seriously,” she says as you reach the bus stop, “I’m gay and even I can tell that Joel guy is hot. You sleeping with him?”

“What? No.” A pause as Diana raises a single eyebrow at you, and then you add, “I mean, I want to, but I haven’t. As of yet.”

This sends you both into another round of giggles as you flop down onto a bench.

“You think he’s into you too?” Diana asks when you’ve got your breath back.

“I think so, but it’s hard to tell. A couple of times I’ve thought he’s flirting with me, but then I’ll say something back or he realises what’s happening and it’s like he… panics.”

You tell her about last night, about how he looked at you in the half-light of the living room doorway, about the way he suddenly backed off but then sent a text asking you to come back again next week.

Diana shrugs, “Maybe he’s just shy?” “Yeah, maybe.” You let your gaze drift to the row of shops opposite the bus stop, think about Joel’s face earlier when you told him he’d made your day better, about the blush that coloured his tanned face.

“You know what you’ve got to do, right?” Diana says then, her blue hair almost purple in the fading sunlight.

You roll your eyes, grin, ask, “What?��

“Well, if he turns up at this barbeque you mentioned in the café, you’re gonna have to flirt your ass off.”

“Oh, God.”

Diana cackles as the bus pulls up, and you bury your face in your hands.

*****

Joel works late the next two nights. You know because Sarah comes round both evenings and leaves only when his work truck pulls up onto their drive, at gone nine both Thursday and Friday. You help her out with maths homework, show her how to do differential equations without having to resort to tears, which proves popular.

“Usually,” she declares on Friday, as you sit at the kitchen bench while Danny feeds Nana in the lounge and Connie takes the trash out, “it’s very boring here. But since you came, it’s about a million times better. Even with the math.”

“Especially with the maths.” You reply, grinning, and she rolls her eyes.

Connie bustles back into the kitchen, wiping her hands on her apron.

“I think your daddy’s home, Sarah.” She says as she comes in.

There’s a tap on the front door as she says it. You rise from the bench, brush cookie crumbs from your jeans and make your way down the hall. The silhouette framed by the glass of the door is broad and tall, and your stomach does a strange little jolt as you step towards it.

Joel’s face is drawn when you open the door, the bags under his eyes accentuated by the porch lights, the lines on his tanned forehead deep. He’s in his work clothes, as usual. The tool belt is off, though, which is strangely a disappointment.

“Hey,” you say grinning, and he smiles back, his tired eyes creasing at the corners.

“Hi, darlin’. Is my kid here, by any chance?”

“She is indeed. She’s just packing up her things.”

He nods, and you take in the sag in his shoulders, the yawn that suddenly stretches his mouth.

“You’re working too hard.” You say, and he chuckles.

“Been tryna finish this plastering, because someone wants me to go to a barbeque.” He quips, grinning, and you feel yourself blushing.

“Did you finish it?”

He holds his hands out to his sides, lets you take in the beige splodges that cover his jeans, the dust that coats his t-shirt, the caked soles of his large work boots.

“Reckon most of it’s on me, but there’s enough on the walls to do the job too.”

“I assume you’ll be wearing this outfit tomorrow, too?” You say, laughing as he tries and fails to brush off a particularly well-dried patch of plaster from the leg of his jeans.

“Oh, ‘course.”

Sarah appears at your side, Connie behind her. She tucks an arm around your waist and you slip yours over her shoulder.

“We did differential equations.” She says proudly, and Joel smiles at her.

“Might as well have done Greek for all that means to me, baby girl.” He says, “C’mon, let’s get you to bed.”

“Oh, your lawn mower’s in the garage, Joel.” Connie says, as Sarah hops out of the front door and starts down the porch steps. “I wouldn’t ask you to move it now, only Danny wants the space for the beer cooler for tomorrow.”

“No worries,” Joel says, “I’ll get it. Sarah, go on home and open the garage up.” He tosses her a bunch of keys.

“I can open up our garage,” You offer, taking the keys from Connie as she scrabbles to change her slippers, gripping the door handle and wobbling precariously.

“Thank you, dear.” She says, sighing and straightening up.

Outside, you press the key into the garage door and let it swing open. Joel stands by, grabs the top of the door as it swings open, lets it gently rise the last couple of inches. The movement pulls the top of his shirt up, revealing his stomach, the dark hairs the trace a path down below the waistband of his jeans. You swallow, avert your eyes a few seconds too late, straight up into his face. He’s smiling cockily, hand still up on the open garage door.

“Concentrate, darlin’,” He says, and the Southern drawl of it goes straight to you core, has you pressing your thighs together, heat building in your belly.

“I think the mower is just over- ugh, what the fuck!” You bat at the cobweb that you’ve just walked straight into, spluttering and clawing at it, dragging it off of your face.

Joel lurches forward in a split second, panicked by your outburst, then, realising what’s happened, falls back and starts laughing.

“Don’t laugh!” You say, pulling long silky threads from your face. “It’s all over me!”

“Here,” Joel steps toward you again, raises a hand, brushes a single fingertip over your forehead, pulling one of the web’s tendrils away from your skin.

“Thanks,” You say, suddenly stilling, letting your own hands fall, leaning into his touch.

“There’s some in your hair.”

“Can you?”

“Oh, uh, yeah.”

He reaches up, threads a hand into the front of you hair and combs through it. He’s so gentle it almost makes you whimper, his fingertips just brushing your scalp, side of his thumb barely tracing the side of your jaw, down to your neck. You feel goosebumps erupt in the wake of his hand. He’s looking at you – at your hair, his eyes wide and serious, mouth slightly open. You watch his arm, watch the muscles shift in his bicep as he moves his hand back through your hair, pulling the last of the cobweb out. He slows as he reaches the ends, lets his little finger glide almost imperceptibly under your chin, lifting your face delicately so that you’re looking right at him.

His pupils are blown wide in the dim light of the garage, that same look on his face as he had in the doorway of the lounge a few nights ago. He moves his hand from your face, hesitates, closes it into a fist by your shoulder and then sighs, a resigned, drawn out sigh. Before you can speak he’s pushing his hand back into your hair, caressing your jaw, drawing your face up, towards his lips, which are parted slightly, plump and beautiful. You’re inches from him, your breath mingling, his eyelashes brushing his cheeks as he leans down to meet you in the middle.

“Dad?”

You spring apart at the sudden sound of Sarah’s voice. You’re both flustered; Joel’s cheeks are ruddy and you can feel your own burning scarlet.

“Coming, we’re coming.” He says, turning from you to Sarah, who steps round the driveway into the entrance of the garage.

Joel steps past you to the mower, lifts it up easily in one arm and carries it back towards his daughter. He turns as he reaches her, looks you up and down in a way that makes you suddenly hot all over, his eyes sparkling with something deliciously dark.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, darlin’.” He says, and then he’s gone again, and you’re left alone with a thumping heart and a deep, unsatiated hunger.

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